Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
He’s not going to take Hope away from me. The only person who can do that is Hope herself.
“Hands up!” a deep voice yells with authority.
Roy freezes instantly, and I watch as an evil grin steals across his mouth. He thinks this is going his way now. Asshole needs backup for a one-on-one fight.
“Sounds like Daddy’s here to save you,” I snarl.
“Motherfu—” He throws one more punch, with a deputy as witness.
“Damn it, kid.” The officer grabs Roy by the collar and hauls him up to his feet. I don’t get the same assist, so I stand on my own, holding my hands up in surrender.
Unfortunately, it’s not Deputy West this time. This guy’s name tag says Leeson, and he seems to be Team Roy, given he’s standing next to the sheriff’s baby boy to offer a supportive shoulder while openly glaring at me like I’m dog shit on his tactical boot.
“Cool it,” he orders, holding a hand out at me as though I’m threatening to charge them like a rhino. I’m literally standing here, warily watching Roy to see if he’s going to come at me again.
I half want him to. I’ve been spoiling for a fight for so long.
Against life. Against Sean. Against AMM Records.
Against . . . myself.
Shit. Fuck. This too-pretty asshole of an ex is a scapegoat for my own anger, I realize. Yes, I’m 99.9 percent pissed about how he’s treating Hope, but I’ve been on the edge for so long that it didn’t take much to send me over. I thought I was pushing Roy down that mountain, but maybe I was actually pushing myself.
“Roy threw the first punch, Deputy,” Hope informs Leeson. “We were having lunch and he came in, started shouting, and hit Ben first.”
She thinks that matters. And it does in a lot of jurisdictions. But to this guy, right now? Not a bit.
“Gonna have to take you both in to get this straightened out,” he tells Roy and me. He at least manages to act like that’s normal procedure in a public-fight situation. Hell, maybe in Maple Creek it is. But we both know that’s not why I’m gonna be hauled out of here in handcuffs. It’s because I dared to lay a hand on Sheriff Laurier’s precious son.
I nod toward the deputy, acknowledging what he’s said, and then, keeping my eyes on him and my hands up, I tell Hope, “Take my picture right now with my phone. I’ll meet you at the cottage when I get out, but call Sean if I’m not released by tomorrow.”
“What?” she asks in surprise.
I cut my eyes her way, silently explaining that I’m probably not returning looking the way I do right now, and though she has no reason to believe that about her fellow Maple Creek residents and authority figures, she jumps into action, holding her hand out, palm up. Slowly, I remove my phone and keys from my pockets, passing them both to her while Leeson warily watches my every move. Hope snaps a quick picture before she shoves my phone into her back pocket. She gives Deputy Leeson a haughty glare of challenge, her blue eyes filled with Don’t you dare.
I’ve seen police run into the fray and save people, putting their own lives in danger without a second thought, and I’ve turned to them myself for help in dangerous situations. I think that’s the world Hope lives in, and I pray she’s right. But I also grew up in LA, in rough neighborhoods, during some bad times, and have seen police do worse things to people than any gangbanger I was supposed to steer clear of. I’m not sure where Leeson falls on that spectrum, and I won’t know until I’m alone with him.
“Deputy, is all this necessary?” Hope pleads. “It’s two guys letting off a little steam. No different than on the ice.” She’s trying. Gotta love that, but the officer’s not giving her any kindness.
“Shoulda thought about that before you paraded your new guy all over town,” he replies, the harsh judgment apparent in the tilt of his head. I guess while we were walking downtown, enjoying Maple Creek like tourists, the gossip train was chugging along, even going as far as the sheriff’s department. “Turn around, Mr. Taylor.”
Yeah, he already knows my name. Probably been hoping for an opportunity to bring me in to Sheriff Laurier like a sacrificial offering to appease the boss.
“You cuffing us both?” I ask with a quirk of my brow because I know he has no intention of slapping bracelets on Roy. “Or just me?”
“I’ve got someone coming for Roy,” he informs me. When I snort out a laugh at the obvious lie, he presses the button on the two-way radio on his shoulder. “Denice, send another deputy to Let’s F*rk. Need someone to take Roy Laurier into the station. For a statement.” Ooh, he knows he’s starting shit and is trying to hedge his bets.