“Because,” Pilar leaned in to remind her, “you hit someone else’s car with yours. The damage to the car and yourself is self-inflicted.”
The woman in the bed, who was still known as Jane Doe since she hadn’t carried her identification with her, glared at Pilar. “You’re a bitch.”
Crois stepped in and glared at her. “You need to stop.”
“You,” she shot back at him, “need to shut up and suck my dick.”
Crois blinked his eyes at her. “So… you’re a man?”
She gasped loudly at his words. “I. Am. Not!”
He shook his head and looked up at the IV bag. It was almost done.
Crois turned back around. “Doctor Ashley,” he grinned, “my partner can go with you to fill out the discharge paperwork, right?”
Roan smiled at him and Crois saw Roan’s hand lift to touch PIlar’s back. “Great idea. Then you can take her to jail. They won’t have to send her back for medical clearance.”
Crois was relieved to hear that. “I’ll stay here and wait with oursuspect.”He made sure to put emphasis on the word so that the woman cuffed to the bed would hear him clearly. She might want to see herself as a victim, but she clearly wasn’t.
He wasn’t about to feed into her delusions.
Roan walked down the hall with his hand on Pilar’s back while Crois stood in the way. Their suspect wouldn’t react well to seeing the personal relationship between the two.
She seemed to have an anger issue with women and a different kind of issue with men. He didn’t want to think about it if he didn’t have to.
“Hey… hey, hot stuff.”
Groaning inwardly, Crois turned to look at her again. “It’s Officer.”
She grinned. “Officer Hot Stuff.”
Crois ground his back teeth together to the point he was fairly sure that she could hear it.
“Seriously,” she grinned at him, but he didn’t grin back, “all fun aside, you should know that this is all… ridiculous.”
He raised a brow at her comment.
She was telling the truth, but he didn’t think it was the truth she was thinking of.
“When my uncle finds out what you’ve done, you’re going to be S. O. L.”
He folded his arms across his chest.
“Do you know what that is?”
He let out a pent-up breath. “I know what it is.”
“It means,” she drew out her words, “Shit Out of Luck.”
His smile was a thin stretch of his lips. “I said, I know.”
“Then you should let me go.”
She dropped the last three words as if they were enough to get him to uncuff her and send her on her way.
Right.
It wasn’t happening.
