Love/Hate: The Complete Enemies to Lovers Series

by Lilian Monroe

  I pace back and forth in the police station, my stress mounting with every step. My shoes clack on the worn tile floors and I inhale the stale, musky air of the waiting room. A man rocks back and forth in the corner, muttering to himself.

  Liam puts his arm around Ashley and kisses her as she rubs her pregnant stomach. My blood boils. It’s not right that we’re out here and Adrian is in there on his own. I want to scream and rip the chairs off the floor. I want to smash the bulletproof glass in front of the desk and hurl insults at every police officer in this station.

  I look at my sister and sigh. Being here is probably bringing back all kinds of anxiety—her first husband was a cop before he died. Police stations don’t exactly feel like a safe place for her. I take a deep breath.

  “You guys don’t need to be here. I can handle this on my own.”

  “I’m not leaving.” She sets her mouth in a thin line and shakes her head. Liam looks at her and then at me. He shrugs.

  “My brother isn’t an angel, but he’s not a monster, either. He doesn’t deserve this.”

  I sit down beside the two of them, leaning my elbows on my knees. Glancing at Liam, I sigh. “He wanted to make amends with you, always talked about it.”

  “So why didn’t he call me?”

  “Didn’t know how, I guess,” I shake my head. “I guess all the animosity between you two went too far.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Liam spits. I wince, and he takes a deep breath. “Sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. You can feel however you want to feel.” I avoid his eye, keeping my gaze fixed on the door to the interior section of the police station. I can feel Liam’s eyes on me and I finally turn to look at him. He tilts his head curiously.

  “You care about him a lot, don’t you?”

  I smile sadly. “I wish I didn’t, but yeah. I do.”

  “Even after everything that happened last year?”

  I chew my lip. “It was hard to get over it all. I guess when he stepped down from being Mayor was when I realized that he might not be a bad guy after all. And the past month…” I take a deep breath, glancing at my sister and her husband. “He really surprised me.”

  Ashley frowns, rubbing her belly up and down. She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths in through her mouth and out through her nose. I hate that she’s here. She’s so stressed and worried and feels guilty when she should be at home relaxing.

  This whole thing has gotten completely out of control. I hate that she took those files to the press, obviously, but I understand her anger. And now, she understands how I feel about Adrian and she’s trying to show me that she gets it.

  The four of us—me, Adrian, Ashley, and Liam—we’re locked in this mess that has just gotten bigger and bigger and bigger, and now it’s almost too big to handle.

  If Adrian goes to prison…

  I shake my head. I don’t even want to talk about it. Before I can go down that mental spiral, the door opens and a tall, serious-looking man steps through.

  “Stella King?”

  I nod, standing up. “That’s me.”

  “Follow me.” He spins on his heels without waiting to see if I’m following. I scurry after him, glancing back at Liam and Ashley.

  “I’ll call you. You don’t need to wait here.”

  Ashley just nods, still taking her deep breaths and rubbing her stomach. I follow the tall man—a detective, maybe—toward an interrogation room at the back of the building. When we step inside, I see Adrian slumped on a chair with his head in his hands. He doesn’t move when the door opens, and I make a noise.

  He looks up and his whole face transforms. “Stella,” he breaths, his eyes wide.

  “Adrian!” I can’t say much else. I slide my hand over his arm, squeeze his hand, and then turn to the man across from us. His partner joins us in the room and stands in the corner. They bring me a chair, and we sit around the small steel table.

  “Special Agent Dawkins, FBI,” the tall man says. He points to the bearded man in the corner. “Special Agent Ulster. Now, Mr. Maguire. It’s time for you to talk. When did you and John Hansen start discussing the riverfront project?”

  “What are you charging him with?” I interject. “The case regarding the riverfront project was closed. You can’t convict him of any corruption charges relating to that.”

  Dawkins arches an eyebrow. He glances at Ulster and sighs. “It’s part of an ongoing investigation, Ms. King. I’m not at liberty to divulge any details.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that,” I growl. “I want to know what my client is charged with, otherwise we are walking right out that door and I will have your badges for the way you’ve conducted yourselves.” I puff my chest out, swinging my eyes from one burly man to the other.

  The man in the corner, Ulster, sighs and takes a step forward and drops a stack of files on the table.

  “We’re charging Mr. Maguire with multiple counts of fraud, falsifying a home loan, and money laundering.”

  “What?” Adrian frowns. “Money laundering? I don’t know…”

  “Quiet, Adrian,” I say.

  The two men exchange a glance as my heart starts to hammer. I look at the files that Ulster dropped on the table—financial records for Hansen Constructions and Adrian’s personal finances. Large deposits and expenses are highlighted, and Ulster chuckles.

  Dawkins leans forward, staring at Adrian with hard eyes.

  “Look, you’re a small fish here. We want to hear what you know about Hansen Constructions. If you cooperate, this could all go away. If you don’t, well, we have a laundry list of federal charges that we can bring against you.”

  I glance at Adrian, who’s staring at the two men. He looks terrified. He looks at me, shaking his head as if to say I have no idea what’s going on.

  A big part of me wants to believe him. I want him to be the man I got to know over the past six weeks. I want him to be the loving, kind boyfriend that I’ve been dating.

  But at the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder if he is just rotten to the core.

  I nod to the federal agents. “What assurances do I have that if he cooperates, my client won’t be charged?” I lean forward, glancing from one man to the other. Dawkins sighs in frustration. I lean back, crossing my arms. “Whatever it is, I want it in writing, otherwise he’s not saying a word.”

  Ulster nods. “Fine. We’ll get it in writing that in exchange for providing information, Adrian will be cleared of any charges relating to his involvement with Hansen Constructions and his position as Mayor of Denver. Can you wait half an hour?”

  I nod.

  “And those files that were given to the media—have you got them? We contacted them, but they only had a few text messages. They said their source promised them more. We’ll need everything.”

  I glance at Adrian and then take a deep breath. “I don’t have them, but I know who does. I can get them for you.”

  The men nod, and then knock on the door. No one answers for a second, and Dawkins knocks harder. Finally, it swings open and the police officer from the front desk appears. Her face is flushed and she looks frazzled.

  “Ma’am,” she says to me, panting. “You need to come.”

  “What’s going on?” The panic in her face makes my heart skip a beat. I take a step toward her and hear a commotion near the lobby. People are standing, and one man is running toward the lobby where Liam and Ashley are waiting. I glance at the woman again.

  “What’s happening?!” I want to shake her, scream at her, force her to tell me what’s going on. More shouting is happening beyond the door in the lobby.

  “It’s your sister,” she says. “It’s the baby—something’s wrong.”

  34

  Adrian

  I pace back and forth in the interrogation room from the time Stella rushes off to the time it opens again. Ulster appears with a coffee and a sandwich.

  “Thought you might be hungry.”

>   “Thanks. What’s going on? Do I need to stay here? I should be with her.”

  Ulster grimaces. “We have to keep you here, Mr. Maguire.”

  “Call me Adrian,” I sigh. “Can I at least call her?”

  He nods, motioning to the door. I follow him to a desk in the corner. He picks up the phone and dials zero, and then hands it to me. I stare at it blankly.

  “I don’t know her number,” I say. Ulster’s eyebrows arch and I frown. “What! It’s programmed into my phone, is that so surprising?”

  He glances at Dawkins, who sighs and then walks toward the opposite end of the room. In a few minutes, Dawkins returns with my phone. I nod. “Thanks.”

  I sink down into a desk chair and find Stella’s number. She answers right away, breathless.

  “Adrian,” she pants.

  “What’s going on? Is Ashley okay? Where are you?”

  “I’m at the hospital. She’s just gone into surgery for an emergency C-section. Her placenta abrupted—separated from the wall of her uterus. There was blood—” she takes a sharp breath. “They don’t know why. They said maybe it was distress…”

  She trails off and I exhale.

  “I’m so sorry, Stella. This is my fault. She shouldn’t have been here. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Stop.” She sniffs and I hear her gathering her strength. “I can’t leave the hospital. I’m so sorry Adrian but I just can’t.”

  “I know. Stay. I’ll be fine.” I don’t know if I will be fine, but I don’t know what else to say. I’m here, on my own, facing federal charges, and the one person that actually believes in me can’t be here. I’m so incredibly alone, but maybe that’s the way it should be. I need to face this by myself. I need to make amends.

  “Don’t say anything to the police until either me or another lawyer is there. I’ll call Martin and see if he can come. I’m serious—don’t start talking to them until you have someone in there with you.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “I’m sorry, Adrian. I’m not choosing her over you right now. I want to be there for you, but—”

  “Stella, stay with your sister. I’d be right there with you if I could. You’re not choosing anyone, you’re exactly where you should be.”

  “Okay,” she whispers. “Thanks.”

  I exhale as I hang up, and then hand my phone back to Dawkins. He arches an eyebrow in question.

  “Emergency C-section,” I explain. “She’s calling another lawyer to represent me.”

  The two men sigh and nod, and then lead me back to the interrogation room. I follow Stella’s orders and I don’t talk to them until her partner, Martin, walks in. He shakes my hand firmly and then sits down.

  “I’m Martin,” he says to me. “Stella called.”

  “Thanks for coming.”

  He waves a hand. “She didn’t have much information for me, so you’re going to have to fill me in. The agents will be back in here in a few minutes, so tell me as much as possible.”

  In as few words as I can, I tell him about the deal with Hansen Constructions, the USB that Ashley has, and the proposal to cooperate from the FBI. Martin nods, jotting down notes and listening attentively.

  “This is the deal?” He points to a file on the table.

  I nod. “They said once it’s signed and I cooperate fully with them, they’ll drop all charges against me.”

  Martin opens the file and starts reading the document. He’s nodding, and then frowning, and then nodding again. I hold my breath.

  He’s smart and capable, but I still wish he was Stella. He’s probably more qualified in these cases than she is—she’s a contract lawyer, after all, but having her by my side was a lot more calming than having him here.

  But Stella is exactly where she needs to be, at the hospital with her sister. This is something I need to face on my own.

  Martin nods to me. “Okay. You ready?” He pushes a pen toward me, motioning to the file on the table. I sign my life away.

  “Let’s do it,” I sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Martin knocks on the investigation room door, and the two FBI Agents come back inside. Martin hands them the signed agreement, and Dawkins takes out a notepad. Ulster assumes his position in the corner of the room, and Martin sits down beside me.

  Dawkins clicks on a recording device on the table. He says the date, the case number, and names everyone present in the room.

  “Now,” Dawkins says, turning to me. “Let’s start at the beginning. Tell me how you met John Hansen.”

  For the next four hours, the two Special Agents interrogate me. They ask me the same questions over and over, a million different ways, until I’m completely exhausted. It doesn’t feel like they’re on my side, even though I’ve agreed to help them.

  They ask me about John Hansen over and over and over. They ask me about how he paid me, who approached me, every single detail that I could remember about every single encounter I’ve had with him. By the end of the interview, I’m starting to wonder if John Hansen was more than just a contractor trying to win a bigger project.

  I know they’re just doing their job, but I’m worn out. My nerves are frayed and I’m worried about Stella. Martin is good—he’s professional and doesn’t back down from the agents, and I’m glad to have him beside me.

  By the time the interview is over, I just want to go home and go to sleep.

  Dawkins glances at Ulster and nods. Ulster clears his throat. “We’re going to need that USB key.”

  “Ashley has it,” I respond. “And I’m sure it’s not exactly the most important thing on her mind right now.” I don’t even know if she’s out of surgery—or if she’s okay.

  Dawkins grunts, and then tosses me my cell phone again. “Call your girlfriend. Tell her once we have that, you’ll be free to go. We may need to bring you in for more questioning, but for the moment, the information you’ve provided has been useful.”

  I nod, and dial Stella’s number. It rings out, so I try Liam. Nothing. I glance at the two men, and then at Martin, and I shake my head.

  “No answer.”

  My heart starts to hammer. If neither of them is answering, it could mean something bad happened. And if Ashley is in trouble, or if the baby didn’t make it—that blood will be on my hands. I’m the reason that Ashley was in distress. I’m the reason she was furious with Stella. I’m the reason she decided to go to the press and start this drama in the first place.

  The placenta abruption would never have happened if it wasn’t for me. She was stressed out from being here, she was mad at her sister for being with me, and she was driven by rage to bring those files to the press. It’s my fault—everything that has happened is all my fault. I take a deep breath as a weight settles over my chest. Martin puts his palm on my shoulder.

  “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

  “We’ll follow,” Ulster grunts.

  I nod. I don’t have the energy to protest. They can have the USB key. They can dig through my files and ask me anything they want. It doesn’t seem important anymore. I’ll tell them everything, give them everything, testify against John Hansen publicly—none of it matters.

  What matters is that Stella and her family are okay. When everything is said and done, she’s the only thing that matters to me. Not the mayor’s office, or the riverfront development, or my legacy… just her.

  I follow the men out of the police station and into Martin’s car. He glances at me, and then turns the car on.

  “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I say, staring listlessly out the window. “Otherwise…” I let the sentence hang unsaid. I don’t want to let my mind go there, to think about what it would mean if Ashley wasn’t okay. I take a deep breath and steel myself for what lies ahead.

  35

  Stella

  The hospital floor will be worn out by the time I’m done pacing up and down. Liam is sitting with his elbows resting against his kn
ees. The plastic chair looks comically small underneath his large frame. I would laugh if I wasn’t so stressed.

  He keeps running his fingers through his hair, over and over until it’s sticking up in all directions.

  The doctors and nurses rushed Ashley into surgery as soon as they realized what was happening. Since then, we haven’t heard a word. I glance toward the clock on the wall, and then the doors where she disappeared, and then at Liam.

  He looks at me, his face lined with worry. I walk toward him and sit down on the plastic chair beside his. My knee bounces up and down and I bite my nails.

  “This probably happens all the time,” I say. “The doctors didn’t seem too worried.”

  “No,” he answers.

  We say nothing to each other for another hour.

  Finally, after an eternity, a doctor pushes the waiting room door open and walks toward us. Both Liam and I stand up. The doctor’s face is drawn and her eyes are clear, but tired. She nods to me and then looks at Liam.

  “Ashley is okay,” she says simply. Liam nearly collapses. He leans against me, and tears start streaking down my face. I hold him, and then glance at the doctor.

  “And the baby?”

  Time stops. Liam freezes against me, his whole body going rigid as we hold our breath and wait for the doctor to answer. I can’t read her face, and panic starts to coil in my stomach.

  The doctor nods. “He’s in the NICU. We’ll have to keep him there until he’s grown enough and able to breathe on his own. So far, all the tests are normal but we’ll keep monitoring him. Lots of babies born at thirty-five weeks go on to be completely healthy.”

  Liam sobs, shaking his head. His fingers dig into my arm as he tries to stand upright. “How could this happen?”

  The doctor sighs. “We don’t know exactly what causes placenta abruption. The important thing is that both mother and baby are okay. Ashley has just been moved back to her room—she’ll be groggy, but you can go see her.”

  Liam nods, stumbling toward Ashley’s room. I nod to the doctor. “Thank you.”