Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Despite her embarrassment, she raised her chin and gave me a haughty sniff. “I’m not naked,” she insisted with less conviction.
Kaia struggled, trying to dislodge my hold on her arm by twisting her wrists in the cuffs. I quickly curled my palm around one of her hands and frowned at her. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” She rolled her eyes and started wriggling again. I used my free hand to pinch her chin and force her to still her head. “Don’t make me add resisting arrest, ba—” I stopped to clear my throat, hoping she hadn’t caught my slip.
The lies were piling up, and I spared only a moment to consider how she would react when she realized I was bluffing. Then I shrugged it off. To my way of thinking, the end justified the means.
“I’ll take her and make sure she gets home safe and dressed,” Elizabet piped up hopefully. Her voice still shook slightly, and some of her bravado drained away when I turned to stare at her again.
Kaia sighed. “It’s all right, Elizabet. No sense in us both getting into trouble.”
Her friend shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, clearly at war with herself.
“Should I call for backup?” I threatened. I gave her my scariest scowl so she would be too afraid to call my bluff.
Elizabet took in a fast, shallow breath, and her shoulders dropped in resignation. “Call me for your phone call, and I’ll come bail you out, okay?”
Kaia glared at me before she met Elizabet’s guilty eyes with a soft expression. “You’ll do no such thing, Elizabet. We both know you can’t afford it.”
“I’ll make sure to get your car home,” Elizabet said on a sigh.
“Thanks.”
Elizabet spied something in the fountain and bent to retrieve what turned out to be a small purse. “Shit. Is your phone in here?” She handed the sopping wet clutch to me since Kaia was cuffed. I took it, secretly pleased to know her phone was likely ruined and she’d be dependent on me for outside communication. Lady Luck was clearly smiling down on me tonight. I’d buy her another one when I was sure she wouldn’t use it to run away from me.
Kaia groaned and nodded. “Can you also let my sister know what’s going on? I don’t want her to worry. Jaelyn won’t be home until tomorrow, though, so don’t bother her before that.”
“Sure,” Elizabet agreed.
I handed Elizabet my card, knowing the shit would hit the fan when she showed up to get Kaia, and she wasn’t at the station.
With a gentle nudge to Kaia’s shoulder, I indicated that she should start moving. “Time to go, baby.” This time, the endearment slipped out before I could quash it. “Hop to it, Kaia.”
“Ms. Whittaker,” Kaia grumbled. Her sorry attempt to scold me was adorable, and since I was walking behind her, I let myself smile.
“Not for long, baby,” I murmured under my breath.
She walked a slightly crooked path, reminding me of her inebriated state, so I kept a closer watch on her to make sure she didn’t lose her balance and topple to the ground. Especially with her hands secured behind her back.
We reached the street, and I looked to make sure it was clear before guiding her across to my plain black SUV.
Her friend was watching us warily as she approached a beat-up old car that looked like it could blow away with a strong wind. The make and model told me it was at least thirty years old. Elizabet opened the door and grabbed a few things before locking it and heading to the cab idling at the curb.
“That’s your car?” I snapped. “And I use that term very loosely.” I could feel myself getting angry all over again, but now it was fueled by fear. That piece of junk was dangerous. Worst-case scenarios raced through my mind. Accidents, breaking down in remote, unsafe places… I whirled around to face Kaia, breathing heavily and ready to lecture her about safety, but she was glaring at me just as fiercely.
“This is your police car?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm, but her expression became skeptical when she asked, “How do I know you’re a real cop? You don’t have a name tag or anything.”
Rolling my eyes, I opened the door to the SUV. I tossed her soggy purse on the floor and grabbed my windbreaker and badge from the center console, where I’d stowed them before running into Gatsby’s earlier. I showed her the badge that clearly said, “Ewan Kelley,” then the patch sewn into my jacket that officially declared me a member of SWAT. I raised my brows and asked, “Satisfied?” Though I hadn’t meant it to be a double entendre, I couldn’t help thinking that I certainly hoped to be very soon.
She bobbed her head, and muttered, “I suppose so.”