The officer lowered his weapon and ushered us over to his car. "Stay here and don't move." He kept an eye on us as he used the radio on his shoulder to call for assistance. Many others exited the back of the building and converged in the alley around us.
To my shock, the backup arrived with handcuffs and snapped them over my wrists.
"What are you doing?" Kinsley yelled. "We're victims! They shot at us!"
"Burke Gallagher is the farthest thing from a victim," the officer responded gruffly, securing the cuffs and reciting the revised Miranda.
Though her hands shook, Kinsley pushed her hair out of her face. Her neck, chest, and dress were covered in blood, and I had no idea whose. "It was me. I did it!"
I couldn't believe my ears. "Shut up, Kinsley!"
The arresting officer paused with his hand on my back. "Did what?"
Kinsley flung her arms out. "Whatever you're arresting him for, it was me. Arrest me, not him."
"Ma'am, please—"
"I shot Casper Molina in the forehead."
My vision washed red. "Fuck, Kinsley, I said shut up!"
"You can come too, then."
The sight of my wife in handcuffs was too much for me to bear. The dread bubbling in my gut since the men entered the front doors of what was supposed to be a private, secure, and extremely exclusive dinner club finally plummeted to my toes. In response, bile rose in my throat and constricted my lungs.
"Let her go!" I choked.
The other officer shook his head. "I can't do that until we've had a chance to figure out what's going on here. We'll need to review the crime scene and talk to her about her confession."
I struggled in my cuffs, earning a shove against the side of the patrol car. "Fucking let her go!" I devolved into Irish, shouting a string of profanities so filthy a sailor would have blushed if he'd understood them.
"Burke, please, I'll be fine. Settle down so they don't charge you with resisting arrest."
But the tears rolling down her cheeks broke me. Floundering through unshed tears of my own, I begged and pleaded to no avail. "We have a baby at home. Please, let her go home to our son. Please, she's innocent!"
"Burke, dammit, listen to me!"
The sharpness of her voice pierced the panic in my brain, and I settled down.
"I'm fine. It was self defense. They'll never release you if you keep resisting."
I knew I had to clear my head. I had to get to the station and call our attorney, and I had to make sure I got word to Logan and Caden. "Don't say another word, Kinsley, do you hear me?"
She nodded as they loaded her into the back of the car. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd bash the cops' heads in. Boston PD had harbored a hard-on for me for years. They would use Kinsley against me without remorse. Hopefully, she would keep her mouth shut until I could send my attorney to get her out of there. No fucking way was she going down for this fuckup.
There hadn't been time to process the fact that Kinsley pulled my gun from the holster attached to the back of my belt and shot Casper. It was self defense since Casper was holding a gun and his men had killed bystanders the moment they stormed the restaurant. But I feared they'd find a way to pin her with a charge unless she flipped on me.
Sickness swirled in my belly on the ride to the precinct. Hoping to catch a glimpse of Kinsley, I craned my neck as the officer pulled me from the vehicle.
"Always the rich sons-a-bitches with the hottest wives," the officer commented. "Don't even matter if you're a twat, long as you got cash."
"Watch what the fuck you say about my wife."
Instead of shutting up, he shoved me in the back to prod me toward the doors. "Long time since ya been here. Can't recall exactly who it was you killed then."
I didn't rise to the bait.
"Few years, I s'pose."
