“At headquarters while I was there to complete some paperwork,” I lie. I probably shouldn’t have opened up this can of worms. At the very minimum, I wouldn’t violate Corey’s privacy by telling them where I saw him last. And that it wasn’t the only time I’ve seen him.
“How’d he look?” Don asks again, the anxiousness in his voice is evident.
“Pissed off. Angry as hell.” No need to lie about that. Corey still had the chip on his shoulder over his injury.
“He still won’t fucking take physical therapy seriously,” Don blurts out.
Eric’s forehead wrinkles. “You’ve seen him? I thought he was still refusing visitors.”
Don glances up, looking around as if he divulged something he shouldn’t have. “I keep in contact with his … mother. She lets me know how he’s doing.”
Carter and Eric both eye Don, knowing he’s not telling the whole truth. I suspect they’re about to prod him for more information when we’re interrupted.
“Excuse us, gentlemen?”
All four of us turn toward the opened garage door to see two police officers entering.
“Officers, how can we help you?” Don questions.
“We’re looking for an Emanuel Allende.”
I narrow my eyes on the officers. I can tell by their demeanors this isn’t a friendly call.
“He’s not here,” Carter interjects, obviously picking up on what I had as well.
“Are you sure about that?” the second officer questions.
“I’m right here.” I nod at Carter as I move past, letting him know it’s okay. “What is this about?”
“Emanuel Allende, you are under arrest for the assault and battery of Matthew Adams …”
My first urge is to punch the officer, who aggressively captures my wrist and spins me around to cuff both of my hands behind my back, in the face. However, I resist that urge and allow myself to be read my Miranda rights, quietly, without letting my anger take over.
“What the hell? That douchebag was assaulting his lady,” Don protests.
“Don, it’s okay,” I say.
“No, this is bullshit. How the hell can you come into a fire station and make an arrest?” Carter challenges.
“Calm down,” I tell him. “It’s fine.” I’d already had this conversation with Janine when we got home two nights prior. She was certain that something would happen. Any noise she heard of someone passing my door that night, she believed it was the police. I assured her I would be fine. I intend to hold that promise now.
“We’ll get you a lawyer,” Carter says.
I shake my head. “That won’t be necessary.”
I clench my fists, holding my own anger in as I’m shoved into the back of the police car.
“You think you guys could make these things any tighter,” I question as we pull off.
“Shut up,” the officer in the passenger seats snaps.
“Fuck you,” I retort as we drive past my station house. I only need to make one phone call to fix this shit.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Janine
“I’m so glad we could finally get together for lunch,” Shelah says as we sit down at the table in the middle of the Greek restaurant that’s not too far from our job. We’ve been meaning to have lunch together for a while but something always came up. Especially now that I was practically taking lead on the Digita campaign.
