Page 53 of Property of Whiskey

I reach behind her duty belt and grab the cuffs.

Her eyes widen.

“You better not.”

“Been threatening me with these since I met you.”

“Whiskey.”

Click. One wrist. Her whole body changes beneath me. Not panic.

Utter fucking rage.

Every muscle tightens like she’s already recalculating what she can still do with one hand trapped behind her.

“You motherfucker.”

“Yeah.”

Click. Second wrist. I roll off her before she can knee me again.

She immediately tries to get up.

I catch her elbow.

“Don’t.”

“Take these off.”

“Nope.”

“I will arrest every goddamn one of you.”

“Get in line.”

“I am the line.”

Bullet snorts.

Twila whips her head toward him. “You think this is funny?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Bullet,” I warn.

He turns back toward Kaylee.

I help Twila to her feet.

She jerks away the second she’s upright.

“I can stand.”

Kaylee whimpers.

Every argument in the clearing dies.

Bullet moves toward her slowly now, hands where she can see them.