“Ooooh,” my brother says as his lips turn up in a sadistic smile. “Not me.” He raises his hands, looking more than a little excited that this call has nothing to do with his history of every type of illegal thing.
“I’m Oliver,” I tell them as my gaze moves from her to her partner. “What’s wrong?”
The male officer blows out a breath as his hand drops to his belt, which is never a good sign. “We’re here about an incident that happened the other night.”
My mind drifts back, and I know exactly what this is about. “Okay,” I say, playing clueless and hoping that my intuition is right.
“We have a victim who claims you came to his apartment and assaulted him.”
My brother gasps, drawing my attention, along with that of the two officers.
“What in the world…”
“Zip it, Liam,” I say through gritted teeth, not needing his brand of bullshit today. “And?”
“He’s pressing charges, but we wanted to bring you down to the station to get your side of the story, take a statement.”
“Are you arresting me?” I ask them, shockingly calm in this situation.
The woman glances down before she looks me in the eye. “We’d like to take you downtown.”
“We are downtown,” my brother interrupts, stirring the pot in a moment that calls for him to keep his mouth closed.
“Can I come down after work?”
The male officer shakes his head. “No. Sorry, sir, but this needs to be done now.”
“Can I take my own car?”
“No, sir,” the female says.
“Busted,” my brother teases, and it takes everything in me not to launch myself across the space separating our desks and adding another charge to what I’m sure is a list from the incident with Mark. “Fuck, I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Fine,” I say, pushing myself up from the desk and glancing toward my brother. “Call Hal.”
He nods. “On it,” he says, grabbing his phone and peeling away from the office area, heading toward the bank of cabinets in the back of the garage.
The female cop takes a step forward. “Leave everything,” she says to me as she reaches for her handcuffs.
“So, you are arresting me?”
“It’s a safety precaution,” she replies.
I growl, wishing I could get my hands around Mark’s neck again. “Fine,” I say with my jaw clenched so tight, I’m surprised I don’t break a tooth.
I turn around, placing my hands behind my back to make their job easier. Do I deserve to be in handcuffs? No. Did I beat the living shit out of Mark and leave him in a puddle of his own blood? Absolutely. I’d do it again too. A man like him deserved worse than I gave him. He is lucky to be alive.
“You have the right to remain silent…” the officer says, and I tune her out.
I have to believe this will all get sorted out downtown once I am able to explain my side of the story. There has to be justice in this world, and I am on the side of good, while Mark represents everything bad, deserving eating through a straw for the next six months.
“Mr. Winston, I’m Officer Williams.”The man sits down across from me as I’m handcuffed to the steel table that’s no doubt bolted to the floor. “I’m here for your statement.”
My statement? That’s laughable. “I want my lawyer,” I tell him, knowing my rights.
“He’ll be here soon,” he says, placing his pendown on a blank form between us. “But I thought we could talk first about what happened the other night with the victim.”
I let out a bitter laugh. Mark’s no victim, and if I had to hazard a guess, he is the one who has a string of victims probably strewn across the Chicago metro area. Each one of them too scared to come forward, fearing no one would believe them, which is most likely true, no matter how sad that shit is.
