"Annie Simmons, and my husband isn't supposed to be home tonight. He's having dinner with our daughter at her place, since I wasn't going to be home to cook. So you had better explain yourself, young man. Violet invited me to this party to look at clothing. My friends are all here, and half of my prayer group."
"Or does this have to do with the 'war' you mentioned against Southwind?" Berto asked, his voice a little too calm. "And please speak loudly for my recording, sir. I'm planning to give this to the Oversight Board."
Cessily spoke next. "Now is when you release my clients before I have the grounds to sue your department into oblivion, officers. Miss Dawson is not about to sign or acknowledge a blatantly false accusation of a crime that could be used against her later. After the refusal to dismiss an inappropriate arrest of Luke Barrett and Ashton Walker - who were the victims of a crime - she has reason to doubt the integrity of your intentions."
The man before me slowly lowered his weapon, then shoved it back into the holster. "Let him go, Tim. Clearly the call was a prank if Mrs. Simmons is here."
The cuffs loosened on my wrists, and the man behind me mumbled, "Sorry about the inconvenience, sir."
I doubted it. The asshole was mostly sorry that they'd been caught. I knew it, they knew it, and I had a funny feeling that all of the ladies watching this incident were finally starting to figure out that we weren't the problem here. We were the victims.
Chapter Forty-Seven
That was pretty much the end of the party. Ash told everyone to just take what they wanted before hurrying over to make sure that Cy and I were ok. Berto, Darnell, Cessily, and Emily stepped up to handle all of the company. Luke got the kids back upstairs with the help of some guy that Ash said was his brother.
Me? My head was spinning and my right shoulder ached. I didn't want to admit it, but that cop had rung my bell pretty good when he bounced my face off the police car. I was just thankful that it hadn't been the SUV, because that was high enough to have broken my nose. A bruise would heal. A broken nose would mean corrective surgery if I wanted to keep my career.
That was what spun through my mind as Cy led me upstairs and into my room. When I tried to say that I needed to reassure the guests, he scooped me into his arms and made it very clear that would not be happening. Instead, I was sat down on my bed and told to track his finger with just my eyes.
"It's not a concussion," I tried to say.
Cy grunted. "Remind me again where you got your medical degree, Violet? When it comes to looking good, you can be the expert. When it comes to this, shut up and let me make myself feel better, ok?"
So I followed his finger. I let him poke at my face where it hurt the most. I even fessed up about the ache in my shoulder and allowed him to move it around as he checked for a serious injury. Finally, Cy dropped to his knees on the ground before me and simply pressed his head against my leg.
"You're supposed to make the excuses," he said. "I'm supposed to take the hits, Violet. I get hurt so you don't have to. I'm the protector."
I rested my palm on the back of his head, caressing the shortest hair there. "You almost got shot, you idiot. I love you, Cyan, but there's a big difference between a little pushing and having a gun pointed at your face!"
"Chest," he countered, turning so his cheek was on the top of my thigh. "And I didn't want Ash trying that - or Luke! Can you imagine what that would do to Faith?"
"I had my attorney," I reminded him.
"Who isn't bulletproof either," he shot back, looking up. "Violet, the call was bullshit. Simmons' wife was here tonight! Now, I don't know if Paul called it in to give us a hard time, if Meredith or Jodi did because they were pissed off, or what. For all I know, the cops could've been lying about the call. The point is that an attorney can't do shit against a corrupt cop. He has the gun and she has words. Believe it or not, Cess isn't really made of Teflon, and you are definitely not Kevlar!"
I cupped the side of his face and leaned in to press my lips against his. "You are so fucking cute when you're all big and manly, Cy."
"Not cute," he grumbled, but he also lifted his face for another kiss.
"You know what would make me feel a lot better, Doctor?" I asked as I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him higher. "I think I may need a little physical therapy. Maybe a bit of internal massage for my hysteria or something." Then I grabbed both sides of his shirt and began pulling it up his body. "Definitely kisses. Lots and lots of those."
He reached back and yanked his shirt off, throwing it down by his feet. "So I assume this means you don't want to hear about Luke's brother?" He kept leaning in, forcing me to recline until my back was on the mattress. Then he pressed his hands down beside me, pinning me there. "Or how many people had their phones out recording that?"
So I slid my hand down between us and cupped the length of him. "Big, strong man. Man protect woman." I slid my palm down his quickly hardening dick and did my best to sound like a cavewoman. "Half-naked man, sex, and this woman's mind is simple. Distracted."
"Horny," he corrected.
"Mhm," I agreed just as the door opened.
Cy and I both looked back as Luke slipped into the room and quickly shut the door behind him. Then he locked it. "Well, I was coming to check and see if you're ok. Looks to me like you're doing fine."
"I'll probably have a bruise tomorrow," I admitted as I hooked a leg around the back of Cy's leg, preventing him from leaving. "That's it, Luke. Promise."
"And she's horny," Cy added, smiling down at me like I was cute.
"I'm starting to get that way too," Luke admitted. "I mean, the view from here is amazing. And while I'm happy to stand here and just enjoy the show, I figured you'd want to know that the house is empty, Berto is pissed, and Blaze is the one trying to calm him down. Cessily is talking with Ash, who told me to make sure you were ok."
"What about your brother?" Cy asked, grabbing my leg as he stood up anyway and dragged me to the edge of the bed in the process.
