Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
“What?” Did I hear him right? “Are you saying because Mick is a trained fighter, he’s not allowed to defend himself? Us?” This can’t be happening.
I shouldn’t be shocked. My interactions with the police have never been great. I’d gone to them about the stalking and harassment before, and they passed it along, but nothing ever came from it. It had only made me feel more helpless and truly alone. Now I have someone that does want to protect me, and they are trying to what? Take him away from me?
“He is a weapon. Intent to cause grievous bodily harm.” Oh, hell no. There is no way I’m going to stand by and allow them to try to pin this on Mick. He’s worked too hard to get to where he is.
“That’s bullshit.” I slam my hand down on the table hard.
“The fuck?” I hear a boom through the police station. They have Mick in another room. “Josie?”
Finlay, the officer across from me, starts to stand. “I’m fine!” I shout loudly before Mick ends up fighting one of them. I had finally gotten him to calm down earlier. I don’t want to do anything that will give these people an excuse to try to make his life harder.
“And that’s another thing.” Finlay gestures toward what I assume to be Mick's room. “Are you with him of your own free will?”
“This can’t be happening.” I put my face in my hands.
“He’s rather aggressive.”
I drop my hands, snorting a laugh because this is becoming ridiculous. Mick is like a sweet puppy to me. He just turns into a beast when provoked. He would risk his life to defend me.
“I think maybe it’s time for a lawyer.”
Finlay’s eyes widen. Is he seriously freaking surprised? “You’re not under arrest.”
Like that matters. That’s how these cops get you. They make you think you’re here of your own free will, while they try to pin their narrative on you. I’m not falling for it. I’ve watched enough crime shows to know better.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Only trying to help.” He sounds pouty as he says it.
I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts. “You’re fucking bored. That’s the only reason that I can think of as to why you are trying to make this into something it’s not. This is probably the most action you’ve seen in forever,” I guess.
“No, we’re doing our job.” He sits up straighter, but a flush fills his cheeks, having been caught. “But you’re all clear. You’ve checked out. No warrants or anything.”
His response is a rush of ice-cold water through my veins. “You ran my name.” Of course he did. I’d given him my ID. Finlay responds, but my brain is now rushing with a million outcomes of what that could mean. It’s not till the door to the room I’m in flies open that I’m yanked back to reality.
“We’re leaving.” I glance at Finlay, then turn my attention to the officer standing behind Mick. I think his name is Ford. They aren’t stopping Mick, so I’m guessing we can leave.
“So everything is fine?” It’s not, but I’m asking about his situation. I know how his trainer Pedro can be when it comes to stuff like this. I mean, that man has a set of rules that are set in stone. Mick can’t even have a girlfriend. Pedro is beyond strict. I’m sure he’s going to get wind of this, if he hasn’t already, and the uncertainty of what that means for Mick makes my stomach uneasy. He told me all about Pedro, and I know this man can take him the distance. I’ve been with Mick a few days, and I might have already ruined that for him.
“We’re good to go.” Mick holds his hand out to me. I take it.
“We’ll take you back to your car,” Officer Ford offers. Mick nods in agreement, but I see his jaw tick. There isn’t much of an option, really. I'm sure it would take an eternity to find a ride out of here. It’s the least they can do at this point.
“Mick.” I place my hand on his chest, and he relaxes a touch but not much.
The ride back to the diner where the car still is feels like an eternity. The tension inside the patrol car is thick. Mick keeps a possessive hand on my thigh the whole way.
“We might have more questions, so—” Ford begins to speak as we exit the car, but Mick cuts him off.
“You have the lawyer's number. You call her to get to us.” He speaks with a finality that precludes agreement.
“Have a wonderful night.” Ford's response is clearly pissed, but whatever. Why the hell is he pissed?
“Come on.” Mick keeps a hold on me the whole way back to the car, opening the door for me when we get there.