“No. I’m not in the area. Can I go to my local station?”
I know my rights.
I also know with my prior record, this isn’t looking good.
The voice hesitates, and I know the answer before they say it.
“Yes, but it would be better if you came here. Where are you?”
I close my eyes, knowing this is all Declan fucking Hale’s fault.
“Sir?”
“Uh, sure. I’ll come.”
Sierra stares down at the floor, shaking her head.
“Is tomorrow morning going to work? I’m three to four hours away.” I sigh, knowing my mom will flip her fucking lid if I have to leave today.
“I'm afraid not.”
“Would it help if I told you that my fiancée’s ex-boyfriend is trying to frame me for stealing her diamonds?” I snap into the phone, not missing the guilt that crosses Sierra's face.
“Would it help if I sent officers out to collect you?” the voice snaps back.
“No, ma’am.”
“Good. We’ll see you in four hours then, Mr. Michaels. Oh, and if I were you, I’d get the best damn lawyer you can afford.”
The line goes dead, and I stare at the phone with a mixture of anger and shock.
“I’m so sorry, Crane. I’ll call him right now—” Sierra breathes, clutching her chest.
“No.” I grab her hand, pulling her toward me.
Her breath hitches in her throat as I take her phone, staring down at the number for Declan Hale.
“I’m going to go and see him. Do you want to stay here, or?—”
“Fuck no. I’m coming with you,” Sierra says, her eyes glittering with anger. “I want to take that fucker down. I can afford a good lawyer, Crane?—”
My mouth moves into a crooked smile as I press my lips against hers.
“Baby, thank you, but I can afford the best.”
Declan Hale is going down.
THIRTY-EIGHT
SIERRA
Crane insists on driving, and we keep stopping off for caffeine and snacks along the way.
I feel wretched for causing this shitstorm, and I want to throttle Declan.
I can’t believe he’s doing this—trying to get Crane arrested for stealing something he’s never seen?!
Bastard.
