If I didn’t stumble across a police officer soon, someone was bound to call one on me.
Of course Ryder lived in a nice neighbourhood, where there wasn’t a police presence on every street corner. It took me twenty minutes of walking to find a police car, running over to see if anyone was inside.
“Can I help you?” a man grunted behind me.
I spun, relief sparking for half a second before it dimmed at the sight of the officer’s frown.
“Yes,” I rushed out. “I think my mum’s in danger. I want to make a statement.”
He looked me up and down like I was an insect, his gazedragging far too long over my bare legs before it finally reached my face. “You do, huh?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, swallowing the disgust. “Yes. Her name’s Greta Sonne. She’s a patient at The Willowmere Centre, beside St Bart’s.”
“The psych ward?” The officer shrugged, opening his car door to toss something onto the seat. “Look, you’ll have to go to the station or make a direct complaint to the centre.”
“No,” I snapped, stepping forward. “I need to make this statement now.”
His eyes narrowed, as if my insistence was the real inconvenience here. “Is she in any immediate danger?”
“I… I don’t know,” I admitted, heat rising in my chest.
“Areyouin any immediate danger?”
His questions didn’t seem to show concern at all, more like dismissal. Frustration surged sharp and hot, and I had to swallow hard just to keep my panic from breaking loose in a rush of words I couldn’t take back.
I couldn’t exactly explain the details so out in the open…
He’d think I was mad.
Fuck.
“Look, take a seat in my car while I call this through, okay?” he said, opening the back passenger door.
I crossed my arms defensively. “No, I think I’ll stand.”
“Suit yourself,” he grunted, leaving the door open for me anyway. Leaning inside the car he reached for the radio, repeating mum’s name and the centre. “Yeah, she’s showing signs of distress,” he continued into the handset before returning his attention to me. “What’s your name?”
“Violet Sonne.”
He conveyed the information, seemingly able to understand the muffled static that replied. “How much alcohol have you consumed this evening, Miss Sonne?”
“Excuse me?”
“Is there a problem here, officer?”
Dread twisted through me as I turned to find Cedric standing to the side, cutting off my escape and boxing me against the police car. I went to move, but his hand clamped onto my waist, dragging me flush against him.
The officer finally stirred, his frown deepening. “Is this your wife?”
“I’m not his—” I shrieked, but Cedric’s hand tangled in my hair, yanking at the roots so hard it stole the rest of my words.
“Apologies, officer,” he said smoothly, tightening his grip until my scalp screamed. “But I think I’ll be taking my wife home now. You know how they can get.”
I winced, struggling in vain, his arm cinched tight around my waist.
“She’s had a few too many drinks,” he added with a mocking smile, and that alone seemed to relax the officer. His arm flexed against me, breath hot against my cheek as he bent to whisper,“If you scream, I’ll have the man watching your mother at Willowmere take the shot. Do you understand?”
The pressure on my hair forced a gasp out of me. “Yes,” I whispered back, my voice breaking.
