The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella’s POV:

Okay, so my day hadn’t been terrible. Well, except for all the weird glances I kept catching from Jason and his crew. Honestly, it was getting a bit annoying. What was up with them? Were they trying to figure me out? Newsflash: not everything has to be about them.

Otherwise, things were going great. The attention had shifted back to the queen bee, Amber, who seemed to have fallen off her high horse. It was honestly satisfying to watch. As for Jason, he looked... stressed? I couldn’t care less. That was his problem, not mine.

Max and Dylan were weird too. They kept giving me these funny, almost curious looks. But beyond that, they seemed like their usual selves, though I couldn’t help but notice some slight tension among the three of them. Not that I was paying attention to it, of course.

Heck, I didn’t have the luxury of focusing on whatever petty drama they had going on. I had my own priorities, and unfortunately, they weren’t anywhere in my list. My mind was elsewhere, with bigger things to focus on than whatever little game they were playing.

****

Okay, I couldn’t believe what was happening. One minute I’m just walking down the street, minding my own business, heading to work like usual—and the next thing I know, I’m surrounded by cops.

"Are you Ella Kingsley?" one of them asks, and without even thinking, I say, "Yes." Big mistake. Because the second those words leave my mouth, they slap cuffs on me like I’m some kind of criminal.

"Wait, hold on. What’s going on?" I ask, completely stunned. But no one answers. They just read me my rights. "You have the right to remain silent..." blah, blah, blah. I’m not even processing it anymore. My brain is frozen.

What the hell is going on? Why am I being arrested? I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong! Did I break a law by walking down the street? Did I offend someone without even realizing it? This can’t be real. This has to be a mistake.

I’m just trying to breathe through the panic rising in my chest, trying to stay calm even though everything inside me is screaming. This is ridiculous! How did I go from a regular person just trying to get through her day to being handcuffed by the police?

I glance around at the people passing by, all staring at me, probably wondering what I did. God, this is so embarrassing. I don’t even have the energy to argue or try to figure out what’s happening. I just want to scream. I want to break free from this nightmare.

But for now, I’m stuck, and the questions swirling in my head only grow louder with each passing second. What did I do? Why me?

The moment they shove me into the back of the police car, I feel the cold metal of the cuffs biting into my wrists, and it’s like the world is spinning in some bizarre, twisted way. I’ve got no clue where they’re taking me, but I guess the station is the most logical guess, right? That’s where they take people they arrest, isn’t it? But even as I try to process that, nothing makes sense.

I ask again, voice shaking, "What the hell am I being arrested for?" But instead of an answer, the guy sitting in the passenger seat just shoots me a look and tells me to keep my mouth shut. Keep my mouth shut? Really?

Then the guy driving—who is clearly enjoying himself—starts whistling like he doesn’t have a care in the world. "You touched the wrong people," he says, his words dripping with a kind of smug satisfaction. Wrong people? What the hell does that even mean?

I feel my anger bubbling up. "Who the hell did I offend?" I snap, my voice laced with frustration. I know this is a setup, but who the hell is behind it? Who are these people, and why the hell are they dragging me into whatever mess they’ve created?

I can’t even think straight. I’m so damn furious, I want to break free from these cuffs and punch someone in the face. But instead, I take a deep breath. Whoever is pulling these strings has no idea who they’re messing with.

They might have the power to arrest me, but they don’t know who I am. They don’t know what I’m capable of when pushed far enough. They think they’ve got control, but they’re the ones messing with the wrong person.

And I will make sure they regret it.

The moment they lock me in that filthy cell, I feel a rush of frustration and helplessness that I can’t shake. This is the price I pay for trying to carve out a life for myself, free from my father’s suffocating influence. I try to hold my composure, but it’s impossible. My mind races with thoughts of how he would’ve laughed at me right now, having been proven right about me not being able to survive on my own. I know he would’ve taken care of the people who put me in here without even thinking twice. But that’s not going to be my path. I won’t go running back to him like some weak little girl.

I try to push those thoughts away, focusing on what I can control. I ask the officer to let me make a call, hoping that maybe someone will help me get out of this mess. They reluctantly agree, though they made it clear that it’ll be useless since I’ve apparently offended someone important. Fucking amateurs. It’s obvious they’ve been paid off, and they’re not even trying to hide it.

I get to the phone, and as the line connects, I hear a familiar voice on the other end. "Hello?"

"Hello, Godfather," I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but it shakes with the anger I’m holding in. "I need you to come to the town police station. Please, don’t breathe a word to my father."

The silence on the other end is heavy, but I know he’s not questioning me. He’s always had a way of knowing when I’m serious. "Stay calm, Ella. I’ll handle it," he says, his voice low but full of confidence.

I hang up the phone, sitting back against the cold, grimy wall of the cell. Whoever did this is about to find out that messing with me wasn’t a smart idea. And soon, they’ll realize that they’ve pulled on the wrong thread. I’ve got connections they can’t even imagine. It’s only a matter of time before everything falls apart for them.

And when I’m out of here? I won’t forget.

It wasn’t even ten minutes before the same officers who had treated me like some kind of criminal came back, practically tripping over themselves to apologize. They kept stumbling over their words, saying it was all just a "misunderstanding," and that I shouldn’t worry about anything. Right. A misunderstanding. They thought they could throw me in a filthy cell and then act all nice after they their boss wasn’t some really big shot compared to me.

What a bunch of fools. Honestly, it was laughable how quickly they switched gears, now practically begging for my forgiveness. Did they really think I was going to forget how they’d treated me just because they were offering coffee and apologies? It was clear as day what they were doing—they were trying to cover their tracks after getting a nice little payout from the so-called "big person" they’d been working for. Probably thought I was just some naive girl who would fall for their pathetic act.

I wasn’t having it. I wasn’t some fool they could manipulate. Mr. Harris—my godfather—had done exactly what needed to be done, and damn, was he quick about it. The officers kept calling me "Miss" like they were trying to butter me up, showing me more politeness than they ever had before. They even escorted me to the deputy’s office, trying their best to act like nothing had happened, offering me coffee as we waited for my godfather to arrive. It was all a game to them—just another day of cashing in on someone else’s misfortune and trying to cover their own dirty tracks.

I sipped the coffee out of sheer politeness, but inside, I was seething. I had half a mind to give them a piece of my mind, but what was the point? They were all just pawns in someone else’s game. As much as I wanted to lash out, I knew it wouldn’t change a thing. These officers were already working under the thumb of whoever the hell had pulled the strings to get me arrested in the first place.

The door swung open, and my godfather stepped in, his presence immediately bringing a sense of relief. His expression was calm, but I knew he had already gathered everything he needed to know. He didn’t even look at the officers who were now scrambling to explain their side of the story.

The moment my godfather stepped into the room, I could feel the entire atmosphere shift. His calm demeanor was like a heavy weight settling into the room, and instantly, the police officers froze, their awkward smiles faltering. They had no idea what was coming.

Without even acknowledging them, he walked over to where I sat, giving me a reassuring nod before he turned to face the officers who had treated me like some criminal. His voice was steady, but there was an undeniable authority in it that made the officers shift uncomfortably.

"You," he said, pointing at the officer who had been the most vocal in mocking me earlier, "and you both are fired. Effective immediately."

The officers looked at each other, disbelief written all over their faces. "But... Sir, we were just—" the officer stammered, but my godfather cut him off with a single, icy glare.

"I don’t care what you were doing," he said, his voice sharp. "You don’t arrest innocent people based on a whim. You don’t treat anyone like that, especially not my goddaughter." His words hung heavy in the air, and I could see the officers’ faces fall as they realized what had just happened.

They tried to argue, to plead their case, but my godfather wasn’t having any of it. He snapped his fingers, and a couple of higher-ranking officers entered the room, their expressions already showing that they were on the same page.

"Escort these two out," my godfather said coldly. "Make sure their badges are taken, and I’ll make sure the department knows exactly why they’re no longer fit to serve."

The officers tried to protest, but it was clear they were already defeated. They were escorted out of the room, leaving only a quiet tension behind. I watched the whole exchange with a mixture of relief and disbelief. It wasn’t often that I saw my godfather in action like this, but when he did, people listened.

Once they were gone, my godfather turned back to me, his expression softening. "I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ella," he said, his voice warm. "You’re safe now. Let’s go home."

I nodded, still processing everything. I had no idea who was behind all of this, or why they had tried to set me up, but one thing was certain—there was no way I was going to let this go. If they thought they could intimidate me, they had another thing coming. I wasn’t just going to let them mess with me without consequences.

As we left the police station, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of closure. The corrupt officers were gone, and whoever had been behind it all was in for a much bigger storm than they could imagine.

I ask Mr. Harris who were behind it and told me the Prescott Family but I shouldn’t worry about them since he was already dealing with them. Just as we were leaving the police station three cars arrive each having the trio with them. News really spread quickly.