Serena rubbed my shoulders. “Babe, we’ll be with you every step of the way.”
I nodded at the officer. “Yes, I want to press charges.”
After filling out some paperwork and answering some questions, I was instructed to wait in the lobby for Michael. Apparently, they were still questioning him about what had happened, but he wasn’t talking until he had a lawyer, which, honestly, I was grateful for because Mason’s lawyers would latch on to anything they needed to flip this on Michael. Make this his fault. Try to tear down his career becauseMason had touched me.
After waiting for almost an hour, I caught an officer pushing Mason into the back. Before I could stop myself, I hurried back there and followed him. Not listening to the clerk telling me to wait in the lobby. Or my friends. Or anyone for that matter.
I couldn’t hold back. Mason was not going to ruin our lives.
Someone caught my wrist, but I yanked myself away from them and pursed my lips as I saw Mason sitting in a holding cell. All I wanted to do was reach inside it and strangle him to death.
“Ma’am, you can’t be back here,” an officer said.
But I ignored him, knowing that I could get in trouble. I stepped toward Mason, my fingers curling around the metal bars.
“Don’t you ever touch me again,” I said. “Don’t touch Melissa. Don’t fucking touch Michael.”
Or so help me God, I would kill him.
CHAPTER33
MIA
After another half hour, Michael walked into the lobby with a stack of papers and a black eye that was already swelling. I jumped up from my seat and wrapped my arms around his torso, pulling him toward me.
“I’m sorry that you’re in this mess,” I whispered. Part of me wanted to whisper to him not to hate me. Another part of me was scared that he’d see I was more trouble than I was worth to him. But I refused to let those insecurities appear right now.
This wasn’t about me. This was about Michael.
A while ago, Victor and Damien had driven back to the restaurant to get Michael’s car. I clutched the keys in one hand and took his in the other.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said to Serena. “Thank you for coming down here.”
She gave me a half-smile and shrugged. “That’s what friends are for.” After pulling me into a tight hug, she said, “I’ll call Melissa and tell her what happened. She deserves to know not to pick up his lousy ass from jail.”
Victor tensed at the sound of her name. “Don’t bother,” he said, glancing at Michael, then back at her. “I already did.”
My eyes widened. “You talked to her?”
“On our ride back,” he said, sadness laced in his voice. “Didn’t think she’d answer. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.” Victor gave Michael a tight smile and nodded.
I pulled Michael out of the building and toward our car. The entire ride back to our house, he didn’t say two words as I drove. All he did was grasp my thigh and squeeze it every so often. My mind was reeling with so many questions and thoughts. I didn’t know what to even say to him.
So, I didn’t say anything until we reached home. I opened the front door for us and pushed him toward the living room, his swollen eye getting worse and worse by the minute. It was a purplish-black color, the eye itself almost entirely closed.
“Sit down. I’m going to go get something to clean you up.”
After retrieving a wet towel, some bandages, and other medical supplies from the upstairs bathroom, I walked downstairs and saw Michael sitting on the couch, leaning over his legs, chewing on the inside of his lip.
Nervous.
I sat down on the couch beside him, touched my fingers to his chin, and lifted it. “Let me see,” I said.
My heart ached so bad for him. He must’ve been hurting himself. The bruise looked so bad.
I stared at his swollen eye and gently cleaned off his face with the wet towel, getting rid of any trace of blood. He winced when I drew the rag against it, and I pulled away almost immediately.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
