Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
During his time in the back seat of that cruiser, he’d gotten one of his hands loose from the cuffs the officer had put on him—the kid was double-jointed and had practically folded his thumb in on itself to get free—and had taken off the moment that the door was open.
I’d been walking into the direct path of him.
He thought I was playing chicken.
I’d had no idea he was there.
And when he was close enough, and because I’d inadvertently blocked the kid from running away like he’d planned, he’d hit me.
Of course, Garrett had been there to see the entire thing.
His shift had started a good six hours after mine. He’d just come from the local high school where he’d done a locker test on the entirety of Dallas Independent School District.
He’d had front-row seats to the kid not only running toward me, but the punch that I’d received to the face.
He’d been horrified.
Rightfully so.
But that was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.
I mean, what were the odds that the kid would get loose? Also, that all the ladies that I’d gone out to eat with would be stopped at a bake sale across the street?
I’d gone ahead because I’d received a call that needed attention.
Which led me to now, me sitting in Germaine’s office, with an ice pack on my face, and Garrett yelling at me.
“If you yell at me one more time for something I can’t control, I’m going to kick you in the shin!” I snarled.
There was a long moment of silence, and then I heard a few of his brothers snickering.
“Welcome to the club, brother,” Auden teased.
I glared at where I thought he was standing. “What are you even doing here?”
Auden paused. “I was going to bring my mother to lunch, but then you got clobbered.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled.
“Hey, Boss?” I heard from someone I didn’t recognize.
“Yeah?” Germaine asked.
“There’s a man here looking for Bindi.”
My brows rose.
“Who?” Garrett barked.
“Wouldn’t say,” the female admitted.
“Send him back to my office,” Germaine suggested.
The woman left so fast I could hear her feet hurriedly tapping for a long moment before the sound dispersed.
“Who could it be?” I asked.
“Hold on,” Germaine said. “Pulling up the cameras.”
“Isn’t that the guy that served Beatrice papers for her divorce a couple weeks ago?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” Germaine replied.
“Rut-roh,” I said. “Wonder if someone is suing me?”
That was, in fact, exactly what happened.
Five minutes later, after learning that it was me, he held out papers to me.
“Take them,” the man said. “You’ve been served.”
I sighed. “I can’t see them to take them, sir.”
There was a long pause as he realized that he’d just held out papers to a blind woman and ordered her to take them, and then he moved closer. “Sorry.”
I still didn’t take them.
“Just put them on the table,” Garrett suggested.
The guy did and clip-clopped out of the office in what sounded like fancy dress shoes.
“What do they say?” I asked after a few minutes.
It was Garrett who answered, saying, “Your ex is suing you for harassment, emotional damage, and a litany of other things.”
“Emotional damage?” I laughed. “What?”
“It’s what it says,” Garrett sounded enraged.
“Let me see,” Germaine said.
The sound of papers shuffling could be heard, and then Garrett sat down beside me and picked up the ice pack that was covering the left side of my face.
“I have a great lawyer,” Dad said. “I’ll send these over to him.”
“Thanks,” I sighed. “I appreciate it.”
“In the meantime,” Germaine said, “I still need a woman spoken to. She’s distraught, and I have no idea what’s going on with her.”
Garrett began to argue, but I patted his chest. “Garrett, you’re going to have to let me do my job.”
He grumbled something under his breath, and I caught his shirt and pulled.
He got the drift and pressed his mouth to mine. “I’ll walk you back to your office so you can get Rooster. I gave him a bone and locked him in there.”
“Thank you.” I patted his chest, feeling the Kevlar vest underneath his shirt. “Is that heavy?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Does it get hot?” I asked.
“Like the dickens,” he answered.
I grinned. “I’ll bet you’re sexy as hell in it.”
Someone made gagging sounds, and I snickered. “Take me to my office, darling.”
“Anything you want, sweet cheeks,” he teased right back.
“Gag!” Auden called.
“Fuck you,” I said to him in Latin.
Auden snickered. “I know that wasn’t a nice parting phrase.”
“No,” I agreed. “It wasn’t.”
One thing about me, I will find out. I’m a findoutologist. I’ve got my PHD in findoutology.
—Garrett to Bindi
GARRETT
“It’s pretty much a cut-and-dry case, if you ask me,” the lawyer that was prompting us on how today would go down said. “I think he’s trying to play the victim card here, trying to make it seem like you’re forcing him out of his home. You ‘stole his future wife.’ Though that has no bearing on his case against Bindi. Bindi, you did all these things. Emotionally manipulated him. Blah, blah, blah.” Kevin Gates stood, his hands going to his pocket. “But once I get Bindi on the stand, the judge is going to take one look at her and realize who’s really the victim here.”