Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109318 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
He made it to Melody’s side, just in time for the stick to come down, his fist closing around it in midair. Two inches from the crown of Melody’s head.
Teeth clenched so hard that his head ached, Beat looked Santa #3 in the eye and snapped the stick over his knee. “Back away from her or I swear to God, the next siren you hear will be your ambulance.”
“Beat,” Melody gasped behind him, distress in her voice, and he quickly saw why.
Santa #1 had reached Trina and a shoving match had ensued.
Once again, despite Beat’s effort to reach the argument in time, Melody found her way in between them, pushing the man back. Santa #1 reached over Melody’s head and jabbed Trina in the forehead with his index finger, prompting Melody to knee him hard between the legs.
The Santa doubled over and howled.
And finally, far too late, the cops reached the fray. “All right, you’re both under arrest.” One of the officers wrestled Trina to the ground. Beat assumed the second one would wrangle Santa #1, but to his horror, the officer jerked Melody’s wrists behind her back instead, snapping a set of handcuffs closed with a metallic zip.
“What the hell are you doing?” Beat demanded, pulling a bound Melody up against him. “Why are you arresting her?”
“She just assaulted the man on his own property.”
“He was attacking her mother!”
“He has a reasonable right to defend his own property and her mother started the damn thing by clocking him with the drum, in case you missed it.”
“I’m bleeding!” Santa #1 added.
This wasn’t happening. No way. Melody couldn’t be arrested.
It vaguely occurred to Beat that all this was being fed out into a live stream, but honestly, that was the last goddamn thing on his mind. “Can you take me instead of her?”
“Ain’t that sweet,” crooned the officer, his lips flattening. “No.”
Beat dropped the broken stick in his hand and plowed five fingers through his hair. The thought of Melody being taken into jail alone was causing an acid storm in his gut. “Should I get arrested, too?”
The police officer looked at Beat over the top of his aviators. “I wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you, son.”
“Beat. Do not get arrested.” Melody went up on her toes and pressed their cheeks together, making him feel like he’d swallowed a starfish. “We’re going to need you to get us out.”
With those words ringing in his head, Beat watched helplessly as the officers loaded his Melody—and her spitting mad mother—into the back of a patrol car. “Please,” he rasped to no one in particular. “Please.”
Danielle and Joseph flanked him, Joseph filming, Danielle punching madly at the screen of her phone. “I’m already searching for the closest bail bondsman.” She squeezed Beat’s shoulder. “We’ll get her out. As soon as I get some release forms signed.”
The hippie in the purple bandanna blocked his view of Melody, his teeth exposed in a broad grin. “Welcome to a typical afternoon with the Free Loving Adventure Club, man.”
Chapter Eighteen
Apparently, no warnings are given before the police snap one’s mug shot.
There was barely time to register that she was standing in front of the height chart, when a camera flash blinded Melody. With the starburst still blooming in her eyes, a female officer shuffled Melody along a few feet to the right where they flipped open an inkpad and asked for her full name. This was really happening. She’d been arrested for kicking someone in the junk. “Is this something I will have to report to potential future employers?”
“That’s a question for the judge.” The officer waited for Melody’s escort to uncuff her. “Thumb, please.”
Melody barely had time to hold out the requested digit when Trina was ushered into the processing room behind her daughter, with the air of a middle schooler who had been sent to the principal’s office. Again. “Well, I’m back, Officers! How many of you are secretly going to ask for an autograph this time?” Trina singsonged to the room, in general, her bare feet slapping on the floor with every step. “Guess I can’t really fault you for taking Santa’s side this close to Christmas. If you piss him off, he might not bring you a life—and you all desperately need one. Something to occupy your time besides arresting the local legend.”
“You were a legend when you moved here. Now you’re just annoying,” drawled the officer holding her cuffed wrists behind her back. “Look straight at the camera.”
She batted her eyelashes as the flash went off. “Pretend all you want. I see your Steel Birds tattoo peeking out.”
The officer cleared his throat hard and yanked on the sleeve of his uniform, covering up a few ink spikes. “Team Octavia,” he muttered.
“Yeah, that tracks.” Trina rolled her eyes. “A couple of serial killers of joy. She’d probably love you.”