“Miss Wells, I need you to hang up the phone and put your hands where I can see them.”
“Don’t hang up the phone. I’m recording this. Just slide it into your pocket,” Blake tells me quietly.
I pretend to hang up and do as he suggests before moving my hands out and putting them up in front of me.
“Step outside slowly.”
I do as I’m told, feeling my face flush with embarrassment when I see some of the neighbors outside and watching with confused expressions. They must have seen Smith taking Banner away. He pulls his gun and aims it at me, making me flinch. Someone gasps, but I keep my eyes on the cop.
“I’m unarmed,” I mouth, and even though he watches my lips, he ignores me.
“Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head.”
Not wanting to get into it when there is a gun pointed at me, I comply, lying flat on my stomach and putting my hands behind my head. I wince when I feel a knee in the center of my back, but I don’t complain. Once he locks handcuffs around my wrists, I’m yanked to my feet.
I stumble back into the cop and find the gun pressed against the center of my forehead. The unexpectedness of it all, the acute fear rushing over me, and my inability to scream have my brain shutting down. I feel my bladder release, along with my tears. My shame makes me sob, the blood rushing so loudly in my ears that I can barely hear anything else.
I can sense the shift in the atmosphere as the neighbors gather closer, some looking horrified, others looking pissed. For once, I don’t think it’s aimed at me.
“What are you doing?” someone yells at the cop—Karen, I think, from two houses down, with the quiet husband and the yappy dog.
“Ma’am, step back. This woman is under arrest.”
“What on earth for now? All you do is arrest her.”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“To me, sure, but you haven’t told Sorrow what she’s being arrested for either or read her her rights.”
The fact that she’s coming to my defense makes me sob even harder. Her swayed opinion of me encourages others to speak up, and before I know it, a crowd has gathered around. The gun is thankfully moved from my head and is now held pointed down at the ground as the cop leans into his shoulder mic and radios for help.
“Officer in need of assistance at 8446 Mayfair Lane. I repeat, officer in need of assistance.”
“Ten-four, officer en route,” a voice replies from the other end as the crowd gets louder.
The cop drags me toward the remaining squad car just as a truck comes barreling down the street and parks in the road, effectively blocking us in.
Everyone turns to look as a tall, blond-haired man built like an action figure steps out of the driver’s side, and a handsome,I’ll fuck you updark-haired man gets out from the passenger side. I instantly know they’re here for me. They move closer, the crowd parting with ease to let them through. Silence descends as people buzz with anticipation.
“Fuck,” the cop holding me grumbles under his breath as he catches sight of who’s bearing down on us.
“You okay, Sorrow?” I recognize the blonde’s voice. This is the infamous Blake.
I almost nod on reflex, but I’m not okay. Not even close.
“You wanna tell me what you’re arresting her for now? Olivia is filing multiple grievances against Tempest PD as we speak. I might as well add this situation and your name to the list.”
I think for a second that he’s going to give Blake the same spiel he gave Karen, but Blake is a lot more intimidating than Karen.
“Miss Wells is being charged with kidnapping and resisting arrest.”
“She did not resist arrest. She did everything you told her to, and you still put a gun to her forehead,” Karen shouts.
The dark guy’s eyes narrow. “You did what?”
“She went for my weapon.”
A man speaks up from the crowd. “She was handcuffed. She fell into you when you yanked her off the ground.”
