“Come in.”
Bonnie poked her head around. “Blossom’s here. She wants to know when she can release the footage of the arrest.”
Never.My gut reaction was a hardno. But I didn’t control Blossom. I’d make it clear I didn’t want the organization anywhere near this shit…but I couldn’t actually stop her from releasing it under another user.
I rubbed my forehead and then reached for the painkillers again.
This is going to be a very long day.
Chapter Two
Malik
“Hello, Mama Murthi.” I donned my sunglasses as I stepped into the brilliant mid-afternoon sunshine.
Creed’s mother—who was all of five-foot-nothing—glared. “You, child, are going to be the death of me. I thought my son was bad. Then he brought you home.” She wagged her finger at me. “You’re a bad influence on my baby.”
I held back the laugh—barely. Herbabywas five years older than me and had gotten into way more trouble than I ever had. Or even planned to. He would point to his misadventures and would advise me not to travel down that pathway. “I’m sorry, Mama.”
At her insistence, I called her that. Her discovery that I was an orphan—if one could be considered an orphan at twenty-five—propelled her into fullmama mode. Creed’s term, not mine. Or it hadn’t been. At first. Now I knew how to recognize when her caring nature was pushing through. At the moment? More like legal-aid pit bull.
“I’m sorry.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared.
“Really.”
“Do you promise to never do it again?”
I put one hand over my heard and held the other out as if I were taking a solemn vow. “I promise to never chain myself to the Lion’s Gate Bridge again.”
Easy promise to make—that had been part of my condition of release. The cops weren’t going to charge me—but they were super annoyed with me. Not that I could blame them. Anytime you caused someone to need bolt cutters wasn’t a good day for either of you.
Creed slung an arm over my shoulder. Despite his mother’s lack of stature, he was a few inches over me.
I gazed into his dark-brown eyes. “Take me home?”
“Not to your home.” Mama shook her fist at me. “You come to my house. I feed you samosas, roti, and French fries.”
She pretty much had me at samosas, but French fries sealed the deal. “My favorites?”
“I bought a bag just for you the other day. I told Creed that you’d need them sooner or later.”
Creed, who still lived at home, grinned. “She bought me pierogies.”
Mama rolled her eyes. “I try to raise you right, and your go-to comfort food is Ukrainian?”
“Uh, I think pierogies are Polish.” I squinted as I gazed around to see if any members of the press or fans might be around. I’d asked to be allowed a quick detour to the bathroom. Ostensibly to piss, but I’d ensured my hair was perfect, and I wasn’t too sweaty. I should’ve been frozen, given the Arctic temperatures in that building. Except that cop had me believing her partner was preparing charging documents for the Crown Prosecutor as we sat here.
More fool me. He’d been doing a Starbucks run. He’d even brought me a black coffee and had warned me not to pull another stunt like that because no way was the Vancouver Police Department going to let me go second time. Then he’d advised me an angry Indian woman was waiting for me and I better show some contrition because he knew Ms. Murthi, and she was not to be trifled with.
Aside from the exceedingly rapid trip to the restroom, I’d hustled.
To find Mama just as pissed as the officer had promised.
“Creed drove us so he’ll take us home.” She eyed me. “You have everything?”
I held up my coat. “I traveled light.”
