A beat, and then a soft, delighted exhale.
“You know that option is usually a joke. Do you want me to call your wife—?”
“Don’t you dare,” I snapped, straightening despite the cuffs. “Just bring money. I don’t have time to sit here and wait.”
Silence again. Measured this time.
“You owe me,” Lai said finally.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I do.”
“Big time.”
“I know.”
The line went dead before I could say anything else, the automated system kicking me off like it had better things to do. The warden shoved me back towards the holding cells, and the bars slid closed again. I rubbed my wrists, taking a seat on the bare metal bench as I reflected on how I, the respected head of the academy just that afternoon, had ended up as a common criminal before nightfall.
You know what? It was worth it. Every second of that drive. Every risk. Every bad decision is stacked on top of the last one. Worth it.
I dozed off with that thought, but sleep came in fragments. Ten minutes here. Maybe fifteen there, if I got lucky. Never enough to sink into properly. Every time I started to drift, something dragged me back: an alarm somewhere down the hall, someone coughing hard enough to sound like they were trying to expel a lung, the deliberate banging of a guard who clearly hated silence.
I lost track of time somewhere in the middle of the stretch between midnight and morning.
Lai could have been here in an hour. He had the money. He had the connections. He’d slept with half of the Senate and blackmailed the other half. One phone call from him and I would already be pardoned and my record expunged.
That’s what a friend would do, but Lai wasn’t just my friend. He was also my ex, and if there was one thing he loved more than being right, it was making sure I knew exactly how right he was.
So, yeah. He was going to take his time.
Resigned to that thought, I settled back down to try to sleep again. The next time I opened my eyes, the light had changed. Dim gray bleeding into something brighter. Morning. The cell door clanged open, the sound enough to drag me fully awake as a hand grabbed my shoulder and shook.
“Get up. Bail’s paid.”
I blinked at the red-faced officer, his chin wobbling with every word, his dark, beady eyes glaring at me over his upturned nose.
“Get the fuck up.”
I pushed myself upright, every bruise making itself known all at once. My muscles protested, and my ribs pulled tight, one spot in particular flaring sharp enough to make me pause. Lower rib. Right side. Not great, but not urgent.
I ignored it.
Now wasn’t the time.
The cop walked me out, paperwork shoved into my hands as he uncuffed me with far less enthusiasm than he’d shown putting them on.
Then I saw Lai, leaning against the counter, relaxed, like he hadn’t just bailed someone out of jail at sunrise. Immaculate, as always, his black shirt pressed clean, his hair straightened, falling perfectly into place, just enough makeup on his face to sharpen his features without making it obvious. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine.
Which meant, yeah, he’d absolutely taken his time.
Still, relief hit harder than I expected. “Hey,” I said, voice rough.
He didn’t answer. He just looked at me. Judging.
I stepped past him toward the reception desk, leaning slightly forward as I caught the attention of the woman behind it. She did her best to ignore me, rolling her chewing gum over her tongue.
“Hey, about my car.”
“What about it?” She asked without looking up.
