Johnny let out a breath. “You have to. I’ll be fine.”
Grumbling, Taylor poked the plastic bag. “Text me later?”
Johnny shook his head. “No phone. Smashed it, remember?”
Taylor sighed, dumping the uniform and boots onto the chair. He hesitated, gripping the trousers before pulling them on. “Then I’ll come back later, stay with you until you’re let out,” he said, hopping on the spot as he rammed his ankle through the leg hole.
“They won’t let you take up a bed.”
“I don’t give a shit, JP. I’ll sleep in the chair.”
Johnny huffed out a laugh. “Good luck with that. The matron sounds like a right ball-buster.” Johnny didn’t hide the way his gaze lingered over Taylor’s stomach as he pulled on the shirt. “Can you call in on Maman on the way home? I don’t want her hearing about it on the grapevine.”
Taylor nodded, grimacing as he yanked on his boots with no socks. “Yeah.”
He drifted towards the opening in the curtain, but stopped as he glanced over his shoulder.
Johnny grinned, a grape halfway to his mouth. “Looking for a kiss?” he said, way too smug for someone who had just been beaten up.
“Piss off,” Taylor replied, before stalking back into the cubicle, leaning down and gripping the front of Johnny’s gown. He placed a rough kiss on Johnny’s mouth, sucking his chapped bottom lip before turning and storming out.
His face was still burning as he made his way across the car park and slumped next to Amil in the passenger seat.
“That’ll be nineteen pounds, please,” Amil said, holding out a hand.
Taylor scowled and pulled on his seat belt. “Nineteen quid? Where the hell did you get the grapes, Waitrose?”
Amil frowned. “M&S.”
“Jesus, dude, I’m not made of money.”
“Bank transfer will be fine.”
Taylor grumbled, digging a hand into his vest and pulling out a crumpled ten-pound note. “I’ll have to owe you the rest.”
He pressed his forehead to the cool window as Amil started the car. “Thanks, by the way,” he muttered. “For getting to us so fast.”
Amil nodded, throwing a hand behind Taylor’s chair as he put the car in reverse. “We’re a team, right? Even if you annoy the shit out of me.”
Taylor smiled. “Yeah.”
Amil seemed even more impatient than usual as they drove through the town, his hand coming up to scratch his neck every five seconds.
“You good?” Taylor asked, tilting his head. “You seem agitated.”
Amil let out a strained sound. “I am. You’ll see why in a second.”
As they rounded the corner the station came into view, except where the road was usually clear, now it was completely rammed with police cars. “What the fuck is going on?” Taylor said, peering out the window.
Amil sighed, pulling the car into the car park. “The sarge locked up the entire block of flats. Half of Falkington are here to assist.”
“What?”
Amil shrugged. “Ask her.”
Taylor received several sideways glances from the other officers as he walked with Amil through the police station. He counted at least fifteen prisoners, most of them fidgeting and complaining about being wrongfully arrested. He had never seen the police station so alive, and as he reached the front of the line he saw Manders being booked in with Isla.
Taylor tried to hide his grin, but it was physically impossible.
