“Uh-huh. Yeah, I can see where that would confuse you. Jeff? Would you mind giving me a hand?”
“With what exactly?”
Remi frowned, scratching his jaw. “Well, not sure yet. He might pull a runner, and I’ve got that bad knee…”
“From a football game ten years ago?” Jeff drawled.
“Every once in a while, it still pinches. Be a pal and grab Colt so we can sort out this dispute down at the station.”
“Cuffs?” Jeff grinned.
“Nah, he’s the one registering the complaint.” He reached behind him and grabbed his cuffs. “You, on the other hand, are at risk of being a runner. Seeing as how you have a record and all…”
“That was in high school,” I snapped as he pushed me against the wall and pulled my arms behind my back.
“Right, right. Once a criminal, always a criminal.”
“This is bullshit. You’re just pissed at me because you always liked Krista.”
He snorted in amusement. “And I finally get my revenge. I always wanted to haul you into the station.”
He pulled me back from the wall and shoved me toward the door. “Let’s go. No time like the present to apologize to a lady.”
I couldn’t believe this was actually fucking happening. Then again, it was Remi, and for some reason, he always fucking hated me. Still, I had been in town less than twenty-four hours.
I thought just maybe we would take the squad car, but no, he had us walk all the way to the station with me in cuffs. He grinned and tipped his hat at people, stopping to say good morning like we were at a town festival.
“Hey, isn’t that Ryder Lawson?” Bud asked as we passed the pharmacy.
“Hey, Bud,” I nodded.
“Didn’t know you were home. Have your parents seen you yet?”
“Yep.” And they would be so proud that I was once again being dragged down to the station.
“I’ll give them a call for you.”
I winced, knowing my old man would be thrilled to hear I was in jail.
Along the route, we picked up a few stragglers with nothing better to do on a Sunday morning. I glanced behind me at the growing crowd, cursing under my breath at how many people seemed to be that interested in what I was doing in town.
“Doesn’t anyone have anything better to do on a Sunday morning?” I muttered.
“Well, they should be in church. Guess watching you get hauled into the station was more important than saving their souls.”
By the time we reached the station, we had a trail of people so long that it wrapped down the road all the way to The Beaver and Boot, or so I assumed from how far back I could see. And the crowd was growing in the other direction as well.
“Now, how about we get Ms. Delilah on the phone so you can apologize properly.”
“This is fucking ridiculous,” I muttered.
He dialed, but it wasn’t really necessary because marching through the crowd with flaming red hair flying in the breeze was none other than the spitfire herself.
“Remi! What the hell are you doing?”
In typical Delilah fashion, she wore a dress belted at the waist with brown cowboy boots. The only thing missing was the hat.
“Well, Ms. Delilah. Look who’s back in town.”
