by M. S. Parker
Instead, I called my oldest brother, Deacon, who spent nearly five full minutes saying how he couldn't believe that I'd do something so stupid before he promised to explain to our parents what had happened and that I was okay. Then I called Vic. He was a thorn in my side at times, but he'd always understood me better than my older brothers. He didn't sound surprised when I told him, but his voice sounded a bit odd. After a moment, he told me to make sure I kept my mouth shut, and not to do anything or say anything.
“Anything,” he practically snarled the word. “You understand, Toni?”
I wondered if the apology counted. Probably, but it was too late now. I agreed without telling him what I'd done, and we disconnected.
As I sat down next to a desk, Passion walked by with a hip-swinging gait. She winked when she saw me and flopped down in a chair as though she was ready to get her toes painted. She had an expression on her face that said she’d done all this before and she wasn’t impressed.
Me, neither. I was fucking terrified.
“Allergies?”
I jerked my head around and stared at the officer. “Excuse me?”
He gave me a bored look. “Do you have any food allergies? Environmental? Things like latex–”
“I know what allergies are,” I said, interrupting him. “I'm not an idiot.”
He paused briefly, then jerked his shoulder and went back to typing. “Yeah, well, hitting a cop seems like a pretty idiotic thing to do.”
He was right. I’d hit a cop. Best case scenario, I'd escape prison. Worst case, my entire life was ruined. I'd never be allowed to become a psychologist. Everything my parents had sacrificed, all of the work I'd done. All of it would be for nothing.
My head started to spin and black dots danced in front of my eyes.
Abruptly, a hand caught the back of my head and pressed down, reminding me of what I'd already known I should be doing.
“Breathe, Ms. Gallagher. The room looks a lot more normal if you breathe.”
I sucked in one breath, then another.
“That’s it...” It was a familiar voice, but not one I could place immediately. “Hey, why don’t you go get her a soda...yeah, yeah, I know. Look, I know the kid. I’ll watch her.”
The pressure on the back of my neck eased and, a moment later, I found myself looking at a graying, grizzled cop. He wore a rumpled suit and his face was equally rumpled. Lived-in, I supposed. But I knew him anyway.
Scowling, I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away. “Thanks for the help, Detective Bowers. I’m fine now.”
“It’s Captain actually, Ms. Gallagher.” He arched a brow at the frosty look I shot him. “It seems you’ve found yourself in trouble.”
“It’s a family trait.”
“Hmmm...” He bent forward, his eyes focused on the screen in front of him. He winced as he shot me a look over the computer. “You went big for your one and only trouble ever. Assault of a cop, Ms. Gallagher?”
Stonily, I ignored him. Hearing the heavy tread of police-issue uniform shoes, I looked over. It was the officer who’d started booking me.
Bowers got up, groaning a bit as his knees popped. “You hang tight there, Ms. Gallagher.”
Like I had a lot of choice.
As the older man walked away, I watched him go.
He was the one who’d arrested Vic all those years ago. It had been Bowers' face on media reports when everything had gone to hell. He'd been furious that Vic had only gotten six months and had made sure everyone knew what a scumbag my brother was.
I was led into a small concrete room before I could dwell on Captain Bowers much longer. I knew what was coming next.
The door opened and I turned around.
Shit. It was the officer I'd hit.
The harsh light shining down on her face did nothing to soften the bruising on her nose, spreading up to her left eye. Man, I’d really gotten her good. I silently cursed my brothers for having taught me how to fight.
“Apparently you’ve got friends in high places.” Her voice was tight, angry.
I blinked.
That wasn’t what I’d been expecting to hear.
She nodded at the table and said, “Sit.”
I sat.
At this point, if she wanted me to twirl around and bark like a dog then hop like a bunny, I would.
“Captain Bowers talked to me. Asked that I consider...letting this go.”
I blinked at her. No fucking way. “Ah...” I cleared my throat, then tried again. “Um...”
Nothing intelligent was coming out.
“You do know him,” she prompted.
Numb, I nodded. I didn't understand. Why would Bowers do that for me? He'd never liked my family.
“Any idea why he’d like me to reconsider?” she asked. She touched the glorious bruise, already a deep, ugly purple. “I mean, I personally think there’s a good reason to not reconsider.”
I didn't say anything. What could I say? I had no reason to offer her.
“You must have something to say.”
“I already did. I told you I was sorry and I meant it. What more do you want?”
She stared at me for a long moment, and then she got up and left.
I was alone in the room, and I stayed that way for a very long time.
***
The squeak of the opening door woke me.
I jerked my head up, groaning as pain lashed through me, my stiffened neck protesting the sudden movement. Bleary-eyed, I stared at the doorway. It took a moment for my brain to register what I was seeing. When it did, my jaw fell open.
“Deacon.”
I launched myself at him and his arms caught me. My feet left the ground and over his shoulder, I saw Franky and Vic too. A rush of emotion swept over me.
“Let’s get you home.” Deacon kissed my temple and squeezed me even tighter before setting me on my feet. “You can give us all the details later. For now, let's get out of here.”
“I can’t.” Confused, I looked around.
“Get out of here.” It came from the officer I’d hit. She gave me a disgusted look from where she stood behind Franky. “Go on.”
I remembered her comment. Friends in high places. Shit. “Ah...did Ashford Lang call? Did he have something to do with this?”
She snorted and muttered, “As if.”
“Come on, little sister,” Vic muttered as he took my arm. “Trust me. You don't want to stay here any longer than you have to.”
I let him lead me out while Franky and Deacon followed behind like some weird little entourage. I didn’t understand what had happened.
If it hadn’t been Ash who'd gotten me out, then who was it?
Chapter 2
Ash
“What do you mean, you can’t help me?”
I glared at the man on the other side of the glass. He smiled back at me, but there was nothing friendly, or even helpful about the smile. It was the smile of a tired man who didn’t want to talk to me, but his job dictated that he do just that.
His gaze had skimmed along my clothes as I'd come rushing inside. I’d put up with enough of it in my life that I knew when somebody was taking my measure. The cop in front of me had already taken my measure, made a few rough estimates, and I felt sure he was probably fairly well on base.
The man knew I had money and so I got the smile when he told me politely that there was nothing he could do.
Leaning down, I braced my hands on the counter and glared at him through the glass. I’d already put the letter – sealed in a plastic Ziploc bag thanks to Doug's quick thinking – on the flat surface. He hadn’t even looked at it.
“I need to speak with Lieutenant Green. She has a woman in custody for my sister’s kidnapping and it isn’t her.”
“Yes, Mr. Lang.” The cop nodded soberly. “So you’ve explained. I’ve already checked on this woman, and she’s not under arrest for any kind of kidnapping. She’s being processed for assault.”
“I...” I
snapped my jaw shot and looked away, staring off to the side as Agent Marcum’s voice came back to haunt me. Only a couple hours had passed and already, she was proving to be right. “What do you mean she’s being processed?”
I had to do something to stop this. I had to talk to the lieutenant about the fucking letter. But this idiot...
Forcing my teeth to unclench and my facial muscles to relax, I met the cop’s eyes. Toni being here was my fault. Me being an ass wasn’t going to speed things along. If anything, it would make things worse for her.
“She’s being processed,” the cop said again, talking slowly, like I hadn't understood him the first time.
I glanced at his badge and managed a smile. “Look, play along with me here, Officer. Pretend I’m an idiot. Imagine I have no idea how any of this works. Now. She’s been brought in. She was supposed to be questioned for my sister’s kidnapping. Now, what’s going on?”
Trebek looked like he wanted to tell me to take a hike, but after a moment, he slumped back in his chair and gave me a short nod. “After she’s processed, she goes back into a cell. She’s got to get arraigned and then post bail if it's offered.”
“How long does that take?”
He snorted then. “It’s one-thirty on a Saturday morning. Won’t be a judge in here before Monday. If she’s lucky, she’ll see one by Monday afternoon.”
“That’s not—”
A flurry of voices behind me drowned out my words – probably for the best – and I jerked my head around, ready to bellow for everybody to shut the hell up.
But then I saw the men in the doorway and recognition slammed into me. I curled a hand into a fist. My gaze landed on one in particular.
The man in the back. Dark red hair. Dark eyes. I'd seen his face before. In the pictures my PI had taken.
None of the brothers looked at me. I tried hard to do the same, although I couldn't keep my gaze from lingering on the tallest of the three men.
Victor Gallagher, Toni’s brother. The other two men with him had to be Deacon and Franky. She had a third brother, but he didn’t live here. I had a feeling he wouldn’t mind making a trip back here for this, though. All of them looked pissed and it wouldn’t take long for their anger to find a target.
Rightfully, it should be me. I'd been the one to get her into this mess.
Vic’s gaze slid to mine. There was no recognition, but his gaze narrowed nonetheless, lingered for just a moment.
He shouldn't know me. Just as I shouldn't know him. Yet we both recognized the other. If it hadn't been for the letter I'd found at my door, I might've felt more justification at having set Toni up. Now I was just frustrated. They'd get back there to see Toni, find out what I'd done, and this ass at the desk wouldn't even give me a simple answer about what was happening.
As the Gallagher brothers disappeared through the door, my gut twisted into newer, tighter knots. I turned back to the officer. “I've got new evidence. Please let Lieutenant Green know that.”
I walked away from the counter, unsure what to do next. After a moment, I sat down and pulled out my wallet.
Green had given me a card.
Why hadn’t I thought of that before now?
People were always giving me cards. More often than not, I threw them away. Sometimes, I passed them on to my administrative assistant. I rarely kept them. But I’d kept the lieutenant’s, shoved it into my wallet along with the cards from the FBI agents.
Now, I punched Green's number into my cell phone and waited. When it went to voicemail, I left a message, reading the letter from memory.
Then I called the numbers on the other cards I'd gotten. Nobody answered, so I left the same message on their voicemails too.
That done, I didn’t know what else to do, so I sat...and waited.
Sitting out in the waiting room of any police department, a man could make millions in a year, or he could make nothing, and there would be people in uniform who just didn't care.
It wasn’t something I was used to. I was accustomed to getting what I wanted, to having all of the connections I needed to get things done. Maybe if I could get the attention of the people striding around or talking on the phone, I could do something. But what was I supposed to do? Throw my weight around? Make calls?
I’d done that bit before and it hadn’t really worked out well.
I stroked my thumb down the plastic that held the letter and looked up.
I still didn't have a single response to any of my calls. I had to try again. It had been after one when I'd gotten here and it was coming up on four in the morning.
Getting to my feet, I made my way back over to the man at the desk. I saw him take a slow breath and plaster another fake smile on his face.
“Have you had any luck contacting the lieutenant?” I asked.
“She’s here.” He nodded. “She’s tied up with a suspect. As soon as she’s available—”
“Toni Gallagher isn’t a fucking suspect,” I said. I didn’t raise my voice. Instead, it came out cold as ice.
The officer’s eyes widened, then narrowed.
The letter was still sitting next to him. I reached over and tapped it, fighting to keep my voice even and polite. “Would you please take thirty seconds and read this?”
Maybe it was the please that did it.
This time, he did more than just take a cursory glance. And his eyes widened halfway through.
He shoved up to his feet, calling out to somebody whose name I didn't catch.
“I’m taking this,” he said to me, voice clipped.
“What are you—?”
But he was already striding off.
A couple more hours passed. It was a little after seven now. Another cop, dressed in a rumpled suit, had come out, asked me several questions, made notes, and then nodded. A woman, her shirt crisp and fresh, had come out and asked the same questions, in a different order.
When a third person, another man, came out, I finally held up a hand. “I want to see Lieutenant Green.”
“Mr. Lang–”
“Lieutenant Green.” I was fucking tired of playing nice, and I let it show in my voice. It was too early – or late, depending on how you looked at it – and I hadn’t gotten shit accomplished. I’d been here for six hours and the hangover wasn't helping.
Toni had been here for over fourteen, a snide voice in the back of my head said.
And I was trying to fix that.
The man – his badge said Reardon – peered at me for a moment and then he nodded. This time, when he walked off, I didn’t sit back down. I moved over to the window and stared outside, watching as a misty, gloomy morning dawned.
***
The door to the back had opened and closed so many times, I’d finally stopped looking.
This time, though, I did look, more out of reflex than anything else, my head already half turning back to the window when my brain kicked in.
Swinging my gaze back around, I stared intently at the petite woman who’d just come striding through the door, her head high and shoulders straight. Her chin was lifted and her hair, all that rich, dark red, hung in a tangle down her back. There were shadows like bruises under her lovely eyes, but other than that, she looked fine.
Nobody had hurt her.
I breathed a bit easier.
It lasted for all of two seconds, because then Toni was shifting her gaze around and she saw me.
She stumbled and the shortest of her brothers caught her, concern clear in his dark blue eyes. She gave him a quick smile and went back to glaring at me.
After a moment, she curled her lip and looked away, saying something in a low voice to the brother who'd caught her. He looked a little older than the others, which meant he was probably the oldest of the lot, Deacon.
I couldn’t stop myself. I should have, but I couldn’t.
“Toni.”
I took a step toward her and watched as those smoky blue eyes swung back to mine. She inclined her head and a cool smile settle
d on her lips. But she didn’t say anything. She just continued walking with her brothers.
One of them peeled himself away from her and placed himself between us when I took another step toward her.
It was Victor.
He was a few inches shorter than my own six foot three inches, and lanky, but he held himself in such a way that told me he wasn't someone to be trifled with. He raked his gaze up and down. My spine stiffened at the obvious derision in that look, but I didn’t react.
What would I be doing if someone had done to Isadora what I'd done to Toni? And that was assuming they didn't know that Toni and I had slept together.
I’d beat the shit out of anyone who hurt my baby sister. Something I fully intended to do as soon as I found out who'd taken her. I couldn’t fault these guys for standing up for Toni. But she was walking away. Cutting around Vic, I said her name again.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“I understand that, but I have things I need to say.” I held his gaze for a moment, and then looked back to see Toni almost to the door.
She wasn’t even looking back this way.
“Toni, just listen to me, dammit!”
“This him, Vic?” The stockier of the brothers had left his place at Toni's side to join Vic. If the other one was Deacon, I assumed this one would be Franky. He had a broad face, reddish-brown hair, and pissed off light brown eyes.
“It is, Franky.” Vic reached up, scraped his nails down his cheek. He had his sister’s hair color. Her stubborn jaw too, and he lifted it pugnaciously, like he was daring me to do something.
“I just need to talk to her,” I said. “I want to apologize.”
“Is that a fact?” Franky nudged Vic to the side and I looked down, hoping he might be more reasonable.
Almost instantly, I knew I’d wasted that hope.
From the corner of my eye, I saw that Toni had slowed down, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was gesturing toward her brothers, and I had a feeling she was more worried about them than anything I had to say.
It’s a family dinner.
Knowing my chance was sliding away, I knew I had to make a choice. Let her go, or say it in front of everyone. I raised my voice. “Toni, I’m sorry. I was...”