Payback is a bitch.
TWENTY-SIX
ARLO
I’m awoken by the feel of cold metal clamping around my wrists. My eyes spring open, and I turn my head to find two police officers looming next to the bed—one who just cuffed me and the other talking to Cora.
“This is a mistake,” I state calmly.
“I think not,” one of the officers says.
“Call Detective Boston right now,” I order.
“No can do. Get up. You’re under arrest for breaking and entering.” The officer tries to help me from the bed, but I shake off his hold and stand on my own.
“Can I at least put on my pants?” I ask.
The officer shakes his head and leads me out of the bedroom door. I look back to catch one last glimpse of Cora, and I see her with a smirk, the curve of her lips playful and deadly. It’s the first time I’ve been able to read her clearly, and she is relishing this game. Just as I go to speak, the officer nudges me to keep on walking.
“I’ll have your career for this.” I seethe.
“Okay, buddy. Keep moving.” He pushes me harder until we reach the front door. My cock is out, and the cold air assaults my skin.
I guess she got me good.
Now, I need to think of all the ways I plan to punish her for this.
I’d like to say it taught me a lesson about breaking and entering, but next time, I think I’ll take her phone so she can’t call the police on me. Because what would happen if they saw the blood on my clothes? I would be in serious trouble.
“Call Detective Boston,” I say again as the cop opens the back door of the squad car and motions for me to get in. I follow his direction for the simple fact that it’s cold, and my balls are freezing. He slams the door shut and heads back inside since I’m now locked in the car with nowhere to go. The other officer exits the building with a plastic bag of what I assume are my things.
Goddammit! If they see the blood on my clothes, I’m fucked.
Glancing back to the entryway, I wait for Cora to appear, but the other asshole officer walks out, and the door shuts behind him. The officers climb into the front seats, and they completely ignore me as they start the engine of the squad car and head to the station.
“I need my pants,” I say.
“You’ll get them when we arrive at the station.”
Fucking hell. I sit for a good ten minutes, listening to these two dickheads talk while I freeze in the back seat. When the police car comes to a stop, I watch Boston exiting the station. Leaning over as the car stops, I bang my forehead on the window.
“Stop it. You’ll only hurt yourself,” one of the officers barks.
I’m not worried about hurting myself. When I raise my head, Boston is looking this way, his eyes widening when he realizes who’s in the back of the squad car. He hurries over and immediately opens the back door, bending down to look in.
“Why the fuck are you in the back of a police car?” he asks.
“Breaking and entering,” one of the officers tells him.
I smile when I look up at Boston and say, “I think she likes me.”
He just rolls his eyes and then motions for me to get out. When I’m on my feet, I turn around so he can undo the cuffs.
“Sir, we need to book him.”
I remain quiet as Boston says, “No. You will do no such thing. I will handle this case. Give me his pants, and then fuck off.” I watch as asshole cop number one stands there with his mouth hanging open while the other officer hands Boston my pants, who then passes them to me. I slide them on, covering my cock, and turn to face him.
“Go,” he barks at them. They scurry off, and he looks me up and down. “All this for a woman?” he asks. “And you’re meant to be the sane one.” He laughs.
