Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79599 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Taking a step away from Crazy Jill, I look down at her to make sure she’s staying down. Once I’m completely satisfied, I make my way to my car, because this is now the last place on earth I want to be.
I reach for the door handle when an approaching person clears his throat.
What now?
With a groan, I look up to see none other than Detective Andrews staring right at me. “Don’t even think about it, Soph,” he says, pointing to my car.
“You can’t be serious?” I grunt.
“Sorry,” he says with a tight smile.
“No,” I say, shaking my head and refusing to go with him. “This is all on her,” I say pointing to Jill on the ground. “She’s the one we have a restraining order against.”
“Yes, I realize this, and she’s being taken in too, but I can only go by what I’ve witnessed, and that was you threatening this woman after punching her three times.”
“Seriously?” I groan. “You’re telling me you missed the rest?”
He nods, giving me a tight smile, though I know he’s secretly enjoying this. “Unfortunately.”
“Fuck,” I mutter before looking around at the crowd and trying to search out one of the dickheads who was filming, but they’ve all scattered at the sight of the cops.
“Come on,” Detective Andrews says. “Let’s get this shit over with so you can get home.”
“Fine,” I murmur, letting out a heavy sigh as I follow him to his car. He reaches for the door handle of the back seat, and I give him a look. “You’re seriously going to make me sit in the back like some kind of criminal?”
“Damn straight,” he says as a wicked grin stretches wide across his stupid face.
I let out a frustrated groan and climb into the backseat, trying to figure out just how I’m going to explain this one to my husband.
Chapter 21
TANK
I finish tying up my skates and am heading for the locker room door when my phone starts buzzing in my locker. My eyes quickly snap to the clock, and I realize that I have all of thirty seconds before Coach is busting my ass to be on the ice.
Ducking back to my locker, I grab the phone, only to realize it’s coming from an unknown number. I go to put it down, but after everything that’s gone down with Sophie over the past few months, I think better of it and answer the call.
“Hello,” I say into my phone, hoping whoever this is can keep it quick.
“Babe,” my wife’s hesitant voice says through the receiver.
“Soph?” I question. “What’s up?”
She lets out a heavy sigh and I prepare myself. “Don’t be mad,” she warns me.
“Mad?” I grunt, taken aback. “Babe, what’s going on? I’m supposed to be on the ice,” I tell her, hoping to hurry her along.
“I sort of got myself arrested again,” she admits.
“What?” I rush out before quickly glancing around, realizing my tone has caught the attention of a few of the guys. “What the fuck Sophie? What did you do?”
“Hey,” she demands as she starts to get defensive. “I told you not to get mad. It’s not even my fault. I can’t help it that you have a crazy as fuck stalker.”
Fuck. That could only mean one thing. I sit down and squish the phone between my shoulder and cheek as I start undoing my skates. “What did that bitch do now?” I question with a sigh.
“It’s a long story,” she tells me. “Can you come get me? It’s fine if you can’t. I can call Dani instead, but Mia’s not well.”
“Yeah, babe,” I say. “Hang tight. I’ll be there in a bit.”
She lets out a breath of relief and ends the calls. I throw my phone back into my locker and rush through the process of getting all my gear off. After getting myself dressed, I grab my phone, keys, and wallet before dashing out to the rink.
“Tank?” Coach hollers across the ice. “Why the fuck are you not on this ice running drills?”
Fuck. I stop in my tracks as I turn to face him, knowing I’ve already taken enough time off the ice recently. He practically bolts across the ice to get to me, trying to catch me before I get the chance to slip away. “Sophie got arrested,” I tell him. “I need to bail her out.”
“Fuck,” he grunts in surprise. “What’d she do?”
“Not really sure,” I say. “But it has something to do with Crazy Jill.”
“Shit. That can’t be good. I hope your woman put her in her place,” he says before giving me a stern look. “Go get her, then get your ass right back here. We have a game tomorrow night.”
“Yes, Coach,” I say with a nod before sprinting out the door.
I’m soon pushing my way through the door of the police station and signing all sorts of papers to bail my wife out of jail . . . again.