“I can hold you for up to seventy-two hours; think I might.”
“Okay,” I shoot back dryly.“If you’re going to charge me, go ahead.I’ll bond out anyway.”
“What makes you so sure of that?”
Finally, a question I can answer.
“I’m the heir of Patton Tech.There’s more money in my trust fund than there is in the county budget.My lawyers will have me out before sunrise.”
Finishing my whore’s bath, I neatly pile the filthy wet naps so they’re easier to remove—it’s not the janitor's fault I’m covered in blood.This is the least I can do.
Frustrated with me, Detective Hall stands and places his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother, hoping I'd have been more cooperative—pity.
Professor Jacobson told him I was merely standing up to my bully, onlooking students told him I went rabid, Chelsea’s friends were too busy crying to get much out.There are a lot of variables and conflicting stories he’s trying to clear up.Add in my non-compliance, this case is going to be a shit show for him.
Sorry, Detective.This one won’t tie up with a pretty little bow that fast.
A hard knock pounds through the door.I glance over my shoulder to look at it as Detective Hall surrenders and motions for it to open.Oh how my little black heart sings its devious praise when Elias steps inside.He gives me one quick scan then speaks, his tone revealing just how pissed he is.
“Uncuff her.”Two words, spoken like he’s ordering a spec-ops team and not the police.
“You are?”
“Elias Sullivan.Cain Defenses.Uncuff my client, before I have the entire Patton Tech legal team down here sifting through your evidence locker and case files.”
Jeez, getting us all hot and bothered over here, ‘Lias.
“Sadie’s part of an active investigation and being questioned.If you’re not her legal counsel, or a legal guardian, you will need to leave.”
“Are you charging her?”
“That’s ongoing.”
“Then we’re done here.Uncuff her.Last warning.”
They’re in a visual standoff, warring over me, over all four of us, and it couldn’t be hotter.This man helped torture someone for me; now here he is, putting his career on the line.No need for a lawyer when my Moros is sleuthing frustration, globs slapping on the cold concrete floor.Rich and as viscous as blood when it’s rubbed into my skin.
Detective Hall begrudgingly reaches to unlock my cuffs.I watch him rather than his hands, amused by the unprofessional snarl on his face.A few clicks, and a rasp of metal later, the cuffs vacate my wrist and slide free from the table where they disappear into the holster on his belt.Pointing at me, he talks to Elias like I’m non-existent.
“The only reason I’m letting her walk is because I know a bullied kid when I see one.It’s best she gets counseling, because this is going to be ugly in court.”
“Noted.”
Finally, he looks at me and I can’t help but smile.A Cheshire cat ate the canary type of grin—all teeth and playfulness that’s chomping at my dura mater.Lifting me out of my seat by my elbow, which I’ve come to realize is his way of restraining his vexation, he leads me out of the interrogation room to get my property from the release office.
Outside the sun is shining and I feel amazing—walking on cloud ten, eleven, twelve, far above nine—today’s been one of the best days I’ve had in years.
Chapter nine
‘Lias
Pissedoffistheunderstatement of the year.When I answered her call from jail, I cycled through every damn emotion you can imagine: terror, approval, concern, anxiety, you name it.The unfortunate part is I always circled back to anger.There’s nothing quite like getting that call in the middle of work and having to drop everything because you know what sort of violence your woman is capable of.
I know she can’t help it, that she’s medicated and doing everything she can to ensure she doesn’t end up in some black hole, but dammit, she knows better.Even those insane voices inside of her head, the ones who make her do off-the-wall shit, know better.
All of my life, I’ve been one of those men who maintain their composure in stressful situations.One you want on your side in the middle of a shit storm, because my head is always on straight when all hell breaks loose and you look to the calmest person for leadership.I’m not an angry man, either.I’ve never put my hands on a woman or hurt someone that didn’t deserve it, or wasn’t ordered to put a bullet into.
This, though?Every bit of collectiveness I’ve had for fifty-something years has dissipated.I could strangle her, pepper her ass with so many swats every inch welts, punish her for the stupid thing she’s done but I can’t—I won’t.Why?It’s not her fault.Call me an enabler if you want, but doing that to her won’t change the outcome.It has to come from within; she has to drown those insufferable voices in her pretty head and establish dominance on her own.
