“He stole my bread!” the woman called breathlessly, huffing and puffing as she came close.
“He stole fruit from my stand,” the shop owner added, equally out of breath.
They really should try and work out more.
“Got you red-handed!” Fig preened as if he’d caught me robbing a bank, not just trying to pinch a snack. “There’s no getting out of it this time.”
I glanced at him, then at the angry people gathered round.
Shit. Today really wasn’t a good day.
7
Ethan
* * *
“Pretty sure this is a no-parking zone,” Ivory said when my white Mercedes glided to a stop at the curb near the entrance of the police station.
Could this place even be considered a police station? Great gods, it looked like some rundown, seedy establishment where criminals committed the crimes, not where they were punished for them.
Turning off the engine, still staring at the building, I shrugged. “I’ll pay the parking ticket.”
Ivory didn’t argue. There was no reason to. She was too worried about Fletch and the fact that he was locked up here.
I was worried as well, but seeing this place in person skyrocketed that feeling by like one hundred.
How long has he been sitting in there?
Out of habit, my palm hovered over her lower back as we walked toward the entrance. It was fully dark now, the sidewalk only lit by the awful fluorescent lighting of the station.
“Thank you for coming with me. You didn’t have to,” Ivory said as I reached around to open the door for us.
“Like I would allow you to come to a place like this alone.”
“I’ve been here before,” she replied, so nonchalant I wondered for a moment if aliens had snatched her body.
“Sometimes I really wonder what you see in him,” I muttered, partly a tease and partly the truth.
Ivory elbowed my waist, giving me a look. “Neo wasn’t the reason I was here.”
The second we entered the precinct—no, scratch that. This place just didn’t merit that name. Let’s just call it the station. The second we entered the station, all thoughts of Ivory and her time here fled my mind.
All that remained was the urge to lay eyes on Fletcher.
The air was tinged with stale coffee, cigarette smoke, and… Oh God, was that urine? My loafers squeaked over the cracked tile floors, drawing attention to us as we walked.
The second I felt eyes on us, I straightened to my full height, pursing my lips and glancing around with purpose. The eyes of every single cop, as well as the woman at the front counter, fixed on us.
Feeling her stare, I glanced across the counter. “Good evening, ma’am.”
Her lips parted, and a half-vacant look took over her eyes.
She probably wasn’t used to people with manners.
Ivory knocked on the counter in front of the woman. “Hello, ma’am. I’m here to get Fletcher—”
“Never thought I’d see you in here again,” a new voice said, cutting off her words.
I felt rather than heard Ivory sigh, which automatically made me suspicious of the police officer.
“Hello, Fig,” Ivory said, polite but not friendly. “Are you the one who arrested Fletcher?”
My back teeth smacked together.
“I always knew that boy was trouble. Finally caught him in the act.”
“Caught him in the act of what, exactly?” Ivory asked.
“Theft of property. Two counts.”
“And what is your evidence?” I asked, speaking up for the first time.
Fig’s eyes flicked to me, then came back, widening just a bit. “Y-you—”
“Officer Fig, this is my friend, Ethan Abbott. You—”
“I know who he is. I see the news,” Fig muttered. “I shoulda known you two would know each other.”
I didn’t have time for this. “This is hardly an appropriate conversation right now. I’m asking you about the charges you have brought against Fletcher. I want to know what evidence you have to detain him.”
Fig straightened a bit, a flash of panic in his eyes before it was replaced with smug righteousness. “My evidence? Those two people right over there.” He pointed.
Looking past him, I saw a woman in a dark coat with a paper bag at her feet sitting beside a middle-aged man with gray hair, weary features, and a shirt with the name of a bakery on the left breast.
“Explain,” I said, still staring as the two people spoke to an officer.
“That’s who he stole from. They’re pressing charges right now.”
An abrupt, shrill scream cut through the entire building, practically shaking the crappy lights overhead. It echoed, bouncing around until finally dying out.
“Damn drunk,” Fig muttered, rubbing one of his ears.
Ivory’s face had gone pale. “I want to see Fletcher.”
“Not possible,” Fig rebuked.
She fidgeted, bringing her hands up to wring them together. “You don’t have him in the same cell with that… man, do you?”
“What do you think we are, animals? We got Dan locked up alone. In the cell next to the little criminal.”
Another ear-piercing shriek shook the building.
“Hey, shut up, would ya?” one of the officers yelled down the hallway.
“He’s back there?” I asked, rotating to go find Fletcher myself. The thought of him locked in a cell alone for God knew how long beside some insane drunk turned my stomach and created a tight knot at the base of my skull.
“Whoa!” Fig’s hand shot out, pushing against my chest. “You can’t just go back there. Personnel only.”
I glanced down to where his hand was “stopping” me, then back up at him.
Face flushing, he pulled his hand away. “You must work out,” he said, his voice a little high.
“Yes. I do. So you either bring him out, or I’m going back there. You can’t stop me.”
Fig pursed his lips. “You threatening an officer of the law? I could lock you up too.”
I leaned down so we were eye level and flashed my teeth. “Try it. I’ll have every lawyer in the Upper East Side in this place in twenty minutes.”
Fig cleared his throat. “Hatch!” he called. I assumed it was someone’s name. “Get the kid. Haul him out here.”
“No hauling,” I growled.
“No hauling. Just walk him out.” Fig corrected.
Straightening, I adjusted the forest-green coat I was wearing.
Ivory tossed me a look of thanks while we waited, and I gave her a slight nod. Thank God I was with her when she got this call. This might be Neo’s neighborhood, but I was sure he wouldn’t want her coming down here alone.
The distinct rattling of keys, metal bars creaking open, and then another loud shout from the drunkard in the back seemed like background noise as I stared at the hallway, waiting for Fletcher to appear.
Anxiety unlike any I’d never known made my hands clench and my stomach uneasy.
Suddenly, a mop of messy light-brown hair appeared, and honey-brown eyes peeked around the stoic officer leading him. At first, he didn’t see us, but when he found Ivory, his entire face lit up. The second he noticed me standing beside her, his eyes went wide and the tips of his ears turned red.
“Fletcher!” Ivory said, hurrying over. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “I’m okay. I’m sorry you had to come.”
“I’ll always come,” she told him, glancing down to where his hands were cuffed behind his back. Gasping, she pointed, “Is that really necessary?”
“It’s policy,” Fig declared.
Stepping forward but unable to take my eyes off Fletch, I said, “I give you my word that he won’t go anywhere. Uncuff him, please.”
The officer standing beside Fletcher started to uncuff him immediately.
“I didn’t tell you to do that,” Fig complained.
“Give it a rest, Fig.” A female office
r carrying a donut and coffee walked past. “It ain’t like he murdered someone.”
“A woman of reason,” I declared. “Thank you, ma’am.”
She stopped, tipping her chin up to stare at me. “You’re even more handsome in person than on the news.”
I leaned in and whispered loudly, “The camera adds ten pounds.”
She giggled.
“Ow.” The small complaint from Fletch had me forgetting all about the woman as I spun to face him.
“Sorry,” the officer said, stepping back.
Fletcher’s arms fell in front of him as he began instantly rubbing his wrists.
Closing the distance between us, I stalked forward, carefully grabbing his forearm to stare at the red circle ringing his wrist.
“What kind of department is this? Not only is this establishment likely not up to code, behind on protocol, but now your officers are engaging in the mistreatment of the patrons.”
“He ain’t a patron. He’s a thief.”
“Innocent until proven guilty,” Ivory declared.
Anger made my heart beat hard against my ribs as I turned away, blocking out all the morons surrounding us and sheltering Fletcher from view with my stance.
Lightly, my thumb brushed over the irritated skin. “How badly does it hurt?”
When he didn’t answer, I looked up, finding his wide eyes already staring. “Why are you here?”
The emotion in his gaze clogged my throat and made it hard to think. He was looking at me like he was grateful, as if my presence somehow gave him relief.
The urge to protect surged so forcefully my fingers tightened around his wrist.
A small hiss escaped his lips, and I jolted, slackening my hold instantly.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized.
“Why?” he asked again, not worried about his wrist.
“You stood me up.” It was the simplest answer I could provide, the only one I was willing to admit in the moment.
“I didn’t mean to.” His voice was forlorn as though he were afraid I was disappointed in him.
“I know.”
Wide eyes lifted to me once more, and the innocence in them wrapped around my heart and squeezed. It should have hurt.
“What’s the bail?” I asked, spinning back to the rest of the room.
“No bail has been set. We’re still filing the charges. He’ll have to spend the night.”
The drunkard in the back picked that moment to screech again.
“He will not!” Ivory gasped, horrified.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed.
A small tug on the back of my jacket brought me around. I turned, muting everyone else once more, focusing on Fletcher.
He leaned in. “I have to pee.”
I tried not to smile. The declaration should not have been so cute. “You need to use the restroom,” I repeated.
He nodded sagely.
Glancing around, I saw a public bathroom, which frankly, I shuddered thinking about the way it must look. “There,” I said, motioning with my chin.
“Can I?”
He was asking me for permission?
Absolutely adorable.
Resisting the urge to smooth his hair, I nodded.
He started off, and one of the officers lunged. “You can’t—”
Slam. The palm of my hand in the center of the man’s chest stopped him from going any farther.
“There’s a toilet in his cell,” Fig called.
I recoiled. That was just unconscionable. “He’ll be right back,” I said, stony.
No one argued.
The door we’d entered through minutes ago banged open, causing everyone to look up. Two men stalked in, anger and purpose radiating off them in waves.
“Earth! Beau!” Ivory gasped.
Focusing on their identities, I realized it was in fact two of the men Fletcher called his brothers. Earth’s Asian features were dark and stormy, jaw set, brows furrowed, and black hair mussed like he’d repeatedly run his hands through it. He wore ripped black jeans, black boots, and a black leather jacket.
Beau, on the other hand, appeared less dangerous but somehow still intimidating. A black beanie concealed his red hair, slashing over somber green eyes. His jeans weren’t black or ripped, and his shirt was alternating wide stripes of red and blue.
He didn’t match at all, but I guess not everyone had style.
“What the hell is this, Fig?” Earth barked, voice deep and intimidating.
Everyone looked at Fig as if no one else wanted to deal with him.
“Just doing my job,” Fig offered.
Making a rude sound, Earth and Beau both pivoted toward Ivory. “You should have called,” Earth told her, his voice much less harsh than before.
“But he asked me not to,” Ivory argued.
“Look, I know Neo and me… have our problems right now, but this isn’t the time—”
He thinks it’s Neo who got arrested?
“Earth?” Fletcher asked, appearing from behind.
Both Earth and Beau jerked up, swinging toward Fletcher.
“Fletch!” Beau exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
“I got arrested,” he said, then in a smaller voice asked, “Is that not why you’re here?”
“You got arrested?” Earth asked.
Fletcher nodded.
“We thought it was Neo,” he muttered.
“Neo!” Ivory gasped.
“A couple guys came into the bar and said one of ours got hauled in and that they saw a white Mercedes parked outside the station… We just figured…”
“Neo is with Virginia tonight. Fletcher called, so I came,” Ivory explained.
Both men looked at me.
“I came too.”
“Come on. Let’s go.” Earth motioned toward Fletch.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. That ain’t how this works. Now I know everyone on the street shakes in their boots when they see you, Earth, but it ain’t like that here. He’s in custody. He’s staying.”
A dark look rolled over Earth’s face, creating an equally dark aura around him.
A few men took a step back.
Fletcher began to fret. I could practically hear him worrying about his brother’s, ah, reputation and what he might do.
“I’ll handle this,” I announced, the length of my coat flapping around my calves as I went across the room. “Pardon me.” I spoke when the two people pressing charges looked up.
Both their eyes widened, and I smiled.
“Good evening. I came to apologize on behalf of my…” What is he to me? “Employee’s behavior earlier today. I can assure you that I will deal with it swiftly and effectively so this does not occur again. In exchange, I would like to ask that you not press charges.”
It took a few minutes for my words to sink in. Both parties stared so long I was beginning to wonder if they heard me.
“Now wait just a minute.” Fig intercepted the exchange. “You can’t just ask them to not press charges. That boy stole from them.”
“Fletcher.” I beckoned. “Come here.”
He came, stopping at my side. Glancing at him, I asked, “Fletcher, what did you steal?”
Suddenly, his head bowed like he was embarrassed to say.
“It’s okay. Just tell me.”
After another silent moment, the woman with the brown bag spoke up. “He took my bread! Right out of my bag!”
“And he stole two apples right off my display!”
Shock rippled through me. “You stole food?”
His head bobbed, though he didn’t look up.
Reaching down, I pulled his face up, making him look at me. “Fletcher, you stole some bread and fruit?”
He nodded again.
“Why?”
Even though his face was angled to mine, his eyes slid away. “I was hungry,” he mumbled.
My hand let go, arm falling at my side. Ache consumed me, momentarily making me numb.
/> Hungry.
Was he so bad off that he had to steal just to eat?
Anger rose up, overshadowing the ache his hunger caused, and I spun, pinning Earth and Beau with a heated glare.
Beau seemed just as shocked as me, but Earth’s brows were furrowed and his boots stomped forward, intent on Fletcher. “If you were hungry, why didn’t you buy something?”
“Don’t have any money,” Fletch murmured.
“Then why didn’t you come home to eat?” Earth demanded again.
“Didn’t want to.” His voice was small, and it caused the ache to take over my anger once again.
Earth stared at him a second longer and then cursed under his breath. “Milly,” he spat almost inaudibly.
Fletcher flinched, stepping back toward me like he was seeking safety.
And if he was, it was me he sought it from.
Angling slightly in front of him, I matched Earth’s glare. “That’s enough.”
“This isn’t your place,” he snarled.
I didn’t recoil or back down. I knew all about his reputation, his secret identity.
I didn’t care.
“I’m making it my place.”
“Okay,” Ivory said, inserting her small frame between us. “This isn’t helping.”
Fletcher’s fingers curled into the back of my coat, and everything else fell away. Shrugging off my coat, I pushed it into his hands while I peeled off the suit jacket beneath it.
Fletcher stared, eyes skimming the dress shirt and gold tie before widening in shock when I draped the jacket around his shoulders.
“You’re cold,” I said, tucking it close.
“You noticed,” he whispered, his voice a little wobbly, as I plucked my coat out of his hands and shrugged it back on.
“Of course I did.”
“Where is your coat?” Earth demanded, his voice rough.
“Don’t have it,” Fletcher replied.
“You had it on when you left this morning.” Beau reminded him. “And I also told you to call if you had trouble.”
Ivory gasped, glaring at Fig. “Did you take his coat? Give it back right now!”
Earth, Beau, and I went rigid, turning our glares to Fig.
He coughed, then let out a whine. “I didn’t take his coat!”
“Then why else would he not have it?” Beau declared.
Prince Page 6