“Montgomery, you’re free to go.”
I stood up with a long, relieved exhale. “Ladies, good luck.”
My cellmates and I exchanged goodbyes, then I was on my way to freedom… and to face Lincoln. It was like walking to the guillotine.
14
LINCOLN
I leaned one arm casually on the counter as I flashed a smile at the officer posted at the front of the precinct. I’d had a nice long chat with the arresting officer—I still couldn’t believe Ava got arrested. Something about trespassing. Fortunately, her arresting officer was a fan. So were most of the cops I encountered when I walked in.
“You know, my kid had a poster of you on his dorm wall,” Officer—I glanced at his name tag—Lyle said. “I’m a fan too. You had the cleanest throw in the game.”
I smiled. “I appreciate that.”
“You must be coaching or something now.”
“I’m an agent, actually. I leave the throwing, tackling, and touchdowns to the kids.”
Officer Lyle ran his fingers through his graying hair. “I hear you. After a certain age, when you break something, it doesn’t heal as fast.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered. I’d gotten my fair share of injuries. I had to retire before I reached the point of no return.
I glanced at the doorway for the hundredth time. Where was Ava? Was she okay?
As if summoned by my thoughts, she appeared, carrying her handbag and phone. She looked exhausted but still beautiful. And most importantly, unharmed. Her eyes found mine and instantly widened. Her entire face flushed bright pink. After confirming she was alright—for the most part—my gaze dipped to take in the rest of her.
My eyebrows shot up. The dress she wore left little to the imagination. A few of the officers, as much as they tried to be subtle, checked her out as she made her way to me. Suddenly, a rush of possessiveness assaulted me. I wanted to shrug out of my jacket and cover her with it. But knowing Ava, if I staked my claim in front of others, she wouldn’t like it. Besides, she wasn’t mine toclaimanymore.
“Ava,” I greeted when she reached me.
Her cheeks got redder. “Hey, Lincoln… Thanks for coming.”
“No problem.”
She watched as I shook hands with the officers. Before we left, one of them handed me a Sharpie and asked me to autograph an empty coffee cup.
“This is all I have,” the officer said sheepishly. “I’m a huge fan.”
I heard Ava’s little snort and cut her a sharp look. “No problem.” I scribbled my name and offered the man a handshake.
As we left the precinct, there was a flurry of goodbyes and words of admiration. To this day, people going into adoring-fan mode still made me a little uncomfortable. The arresting officer told Ava, “Sorry for the mix-up,” which had her eyebrows scrunching into a frown.
Once we were in the parking lot, I asked, “Are you okay?”
“As okay as I can be after getting arrested. Jesus, I have a record now,” she groaned.
“You don’t.”
Stopping by my car, she turned to me. “What do you mean?”
“I took care of it. It’s like you were never here.”
“Is that why the officer apologized to me?”
I nodded. “We talked, and he agreed that the punishment was a little too harsh.”
Her eyebrows hiked up. “Wow. So you just walk in, wave your celebrity wand, and I’m no longer a criminal? Hmmm, I suddenly don’t regret calling you.”
