Keys and Kisses: Untouchable Book Three

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Keys and Kisses: Untouchable Book Three Page 14

by Long, Heather


  I sat in a small room at the local police station. Not a place I ever thought I would find myself. On the upside, I wasn’t handcuffed. On the downside, I’d been here for hours.

  As far as I knew, I hadn’t been charged—yet. At least, that was what the officers who picked me up from the school and brought me in had said. The handoff between the SROs and the police could have been embarrassing.

  Except, I’d been too pissed. Pissed at the coach because he’d called the SROs. Pissed at Bubba because he was a jerk who’d told Frankie one of the worst possible things about us in addition to being a dumbass. Pissed at myself because all I’d seen was red.

  My temper.

  Mom had been on my ass for the last few years, “Jake, you have got to learn to control that temper. I get it. Things make you mad. But you have to be in charge of you.”

  Welp, that was a big fat negative.

  My inability to control my temper had me here. If they pressed charges, I had no idea what that meant. I wasn’t eighteen, but that was a formality. It was a couple of months away. I did know better than to answer anything without an attorney. Hence why they had to call my mother. I wanted to call Frankie or at least let her know, but the only option they’d given me was using their phones. She was in class, and I wasn’t leaving this as a voice mail.

  “Hey, Frankie. Don’t freak out. I busted Bubba’s face ‘cause he’s a jackass. I’m at the police station. Can you pick up my homework for me?”

  Worst of all, my phone was in my backpack, which I hadn’t been allowed to have. They’d gotten Mom’s number from the school. I was sure the school had called her, and if they hadn’t, the cops here had.

  That was why I was now sitting in this boring ass room with literally nothing to do but stare at the ugly ass institutional walls painted this cream color and wait.

  Homework.

  The door opened, and one of the cops who’d brought me in was there. “Need a Coke or something, kid?”

  My face was killing me.

  “Maybe an ice pack?”

  The officer wore a look of sympathy. “They had the nurse look at you, right? Before we got there?”

  “Yeah,” I told him. “She did. Said it was probably going to hurt more later.”

  Great advice.

  “I’ll grab you an ice pack. I’d give you some Tylenol, but you’re not eighteen.”

  And laws were kind of stupid. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll live. But I would like a Coke, thanks.”

  The man frowned. “I could get you a sandwich, or something. You’ve been here a while.” No shit.

  “I’d appreciate it. Have you guys reached my mom?”

  The officer, I couldn’t remember his name, glanced back at the bullpen behind him, then back at me. “Yeah, she was at work. She said her boss wouldn’t let her leave early twice. But she’ll be here after.”

  Right.

  I couldn’t blame her. “That’s cool. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll be back in a few.” Then he closed the door after him as he left.

  Slumping back in the chair, I stared at the ceiling. Mom had to leave for a few hours the week before. She needed her job. It wasn’t like I was going anywhere.

  Shame itched at the back of my shoulders. She was going to be pretty fucking disappointed in me. It wasn’t that long before the cop came back.

  Gregson. His badge read Gregson. He left the door open, which was nice because the air in here wasn’t that great and it was warm, but the cooler air from the open door helped.

  “Coke,” he said setting down a pair of cans. “Sandwiches.” Two plastic boxes—one said turkey and swiss, and the other said chicken salad. “They aren’t fancy. The machine down there doesn’t have great stuff, but it’s edible, and they stock the sandwiches everyday.”

  “Not complaining,” I told him. “Thanks.”

  The ice pack he set down last. “Just crack that when you’re ready, and it will get cold.”

  Instead of leaving though, the guy stood there as I tore open the sandwich container. My stomach had been gnawing on my backbone for hours. I pulled out the first triangle of the turkey and swiss and took a bite of it. Lettuce and mayo didn’t add much more than some texture, but I’d take it.

  Folding his arms, the officer—Gregson—studied me.

  “Take a picture,” I suggested. “It’ll last longer.”

  The older man smiled faintly. “I knew your father.”

  Oh. That killed any humor I had, and I took another bite of my sandwich. Bully for him. I knew my dad, too. “He won’t be showing up. He’s still in Germany.”

  “Ah,” Gregson said slowly. “Well, I wanted to tell you I put in a word for you.”

  I paused. “Why?” Maybe I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I didn’t know this guy.

  “Like I said, I know your dad. Go ahead and eat. Soon as your mom gets here, they’ll want to start the questioning. Okay?” Gregson moved back to the door.

  “Yep.” I took another bite as he closed it behind him, leaving me alone once more.

  Not that there was much to question. I was pretty sure that some of the guys got that fight on video. There was a solid chance Frankie already knew, and I hated it. I hated that she had to find out like that. I hated that she was going through her day, and I wasn’t there. Who the hell was walking her between classes? Arch and Coop couldn’t be everywhere.

  What if…?

  Suddenly, my appetite faded. If I’d not lost my temper or at least not landed that first punch, I wouldn’t be here right now, I’d be with Frankie. Instead…I popped open the can of Coke and grimaced as it burned the cut inside my mouth when I took a drink. Cracking the ice pack, I shook it until it began to grow frigid and then put it against my bruised face.

  It was going to be a long ass day.

  Mom wasn’t the first one to show up, though. Joe—Bubba’s dad—came in about an hour after Gregson brought me the sandwiches. I could see him outside in the bullpen talking to another cop—this one was in a suit and not a uniform. Though they glanced at the room where I waited, they made no move to come in here.

  Joe was a good guy, and I wanted to say it surprised me he’d show up, considering it was Bubba I had the fight with, but I wasn’t. Joe was that guy. He’d been there when my dad wasn’t.

  Guilt ate at me. Bubba and I had been close since we tried out and made football together. We’d always been friends, but the team drilled working together into us. I’d always thought it was easier for him and me, because we’d been buds before.

  Thought that same team spirit would help with all of us dating Frankie. It had helped while we were all crushing on her and still being her friend. Bubba’s parents were part of that. My mom loved Bubba, too. She liked all my friends, even Archie.

  Though she did tell me once that Archie was too young to be that much of a snob, but at least he was polite about it. I started to grin, then stopped when my mouth hurt.

  It kind of sucked how all of this went down. I didn’t get what was going on in Bubba’s head. Fine, he felt guilty about the points. It was a shit thing to do. The points had never been about anything except us. We didn’t use them to lord it over anyone.

  So why the fuck would he tell Frankie about it? What did that accomplish but give her one more thing to feel bad about? To feel like we’d lied to her?

  The worst part…I had. She didn’t deserve that. Frankie asked me if there was anything about the summer she needed to know, and I’d told her no.

  We all had.

  Then he does this.

  Fuck.

  I was going to die in this room. The Cokes and the sandwich had been great, but now I needed to piss like a racehorse, and it was… I leaned to check the clock on the wall. After four.

  The day had dragged past, but school was letting out now, and I was here and it was Tuesday. Would she go over to his place for homework? Had she been texting me?

  No way she didn’t know about the
fight.

  Rather than dance around on the seat, I stood up, and everything ached as I stretched. My bruises had bruises, and I swore they stiffened in the time I’d sat in here. I opened the door, and Joe stood as soon as he saw me, as did the cop he was talking to.

  “Mr. Benton, you need to remain in there until your mother comes.”

  “I know,” I told him. “But can I hit the bathroom?”

  Joe frowned when he saw my face. “Jake, has someone taken a look at you?”

  “The nurse at school. I’m fine,” I assured him. “Bubba and I have done worse on the football field.” Technically, we’d never done it this bad. But we’d had our share of scrapes over the years.

  “Morgan,” the cop in the suit said, and another uniformed officer came over. “Take Mr. Benton to the facilities.”

  Great. I got a babysitter. Hopefully, the guy didn’t mind if I held my own junk.

  “I’m waiting for your mom, too, Jake. I’ll be here,” Joe promised. He’d come through for me before, and he was here now. I wanted to ask about Bubba, but I bit my tongue. Not sure I should ask in front of the cops.

  “Thanks, Joe.”

  He nodded and then slowly sat back down as I followed ‘Morgan’ to the bathroom. Thankfully, he just stood by the door. I did my business, then washed my hands. I got a good look in the mirror. Yeah, Bubba cracked me good.

  That was definitely going to leave a mark.

  Well, at least grad pics had been done over the summer. I didn’t smile. Smiling hurt.

  Back to my little room I went, and I’d almost dozed off when I caught sight of my mom.

  She wasn’t alone. Archie was with her and another guy. Didn’t know the guy.

  Huh.

  We locked gazes, and he lifted his chin in greeting. Then he glanced back at the conversation briefly and asked something. When he motioned to my door, I figured the question was could he come talk to me.

  No. That wasn’t the question. The guy with them headed for the room while Archie and my mom continued to talk to the cop with Joe.

  Okay. This officially just got weird.

  The door opened, and the man stepped in and left it open. “Mr. Benton, I’m Roger Wittaker. Mr. Standish requested I come down here to represent you, but you are not being charged. If you’d like to grab your things, we’ll get you out of here.”

  “I’m not?” Then why the fuck had I been stuck here all day?

  “No,” the man said. “Your things?”

  “I don’t have them.” I tossed the empty sandwich containers and the dead ice pack into the trash can as I stood. “They kept my backpack and stuff when they put me in here.”

  “Then we’ll get those returned to you.” He waited until I closed the distance before he turned to walk over to where Mom, Archie, and Joe were.

  “Hey,” Arch said when I got there. “I can give you a ride to your car when we’re done.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mom twisted and pinned me with a look. “Don’t,” she said when I opened my mouth, so I snapped it closed and nodded. Then she focused on the cop again. “Now, please explain to me if he’s not being charged, why you kept him here all day. I was called this morning, but I couldn’t leave work.”

  “Ma’am—”

  “Mrs. Benton will do.” Damn, Mom. That frosty tone kept my spine rigid, and Archie straightened next to me. Mom didn’t get mad. She got disappointed. At the moment, that sounded pretty damn mad.

  The cop nodded. “Mrs. Benton, after the incident at the school, he was turned over to my officers by the SROs because it was considered an assault. Mr. Rhys—the younger one—declined to press any charges. The coach, who reported the incident, has since recanted his insistence that charges be filed.”

  Shock rippled through me, and I cut a look to Joe. The older man gave me a quiet nod.

  “In that time, we were waiting to question your son because he wisely invoked his right to counsel and to have you here.” The compliment and tone weren’t doing anything to relax Mom’s stance.

  “He’s not under arrest?”

  “No ma’—Mrs. Benton. At this point, while he was in our custody for the day, he is not being charged. There won’t be a record. I can’t speak to what the school will do, but he’s free to go.”

  “Excellent,” Mr. Wittaker interceded smoothly. “If we could collect Mr. Benton’s things and let him assure us that everything is in order, we’ll go.”

  It was an awkward few minutes, but I got my backpack, everything was there—including my phone with messages from everyone and Frankie. I stuffed the phone in my pocket. I needed to answer Frankie as soon as I got out of here.

  Fuck, it was six. It was like I’d been trapped in a bubble where time lost meaning. Slinging the strap over my shoulder, I said, “It’s all here.”

  “Mr. Benton,” the cop said before I could walk away. Should have known I wouldn’t get off that easily. “You got lucky. You keep this up, that luck is going to run out. I’m glad you’ve got good friends and a support structure. You might consider them the next time something like this happens and refrain from solving issues with your fists.”

  Yeah. Great advice. “Yes, sir.” I’d get right on it. Not that the cop wanted to hear all of that. No, just like Dad and every other uniform I’d ever known. They wanted to hear two syllables.

  “Let’s go, Jacob.”

  Oh. I was dead. Mom never called me Jacob.

  We left in a group, Archie falling into step next to me as Joe moved forward to walk with my mom. The attorney waited for all of us, then he followed.

  “Is she all right?” I asked quietly.

  “She’s worried,” Archie said. “None of us knew about the arrest until she got to Bubba’s.”

  “Is she still there?”

  “I don’t know. I just know she called me as soon as Bubba told her. I was already at your place waiting for you, then I called Wittaker. Coop went to get your sisters so your Mom could come straight here.”

  “Thanks, man,” I bumped his shoulder.

  “No problem, you look like crap, you know.”

  “Bubba looks worse.” But I said that lower and didn’t brag. As if she sensed the comment, Mom glanced at me. “I’m so getting my ass kicked.”

  “Yeah, I love you like a brother. But you are on your own with your mom.”

  I laughed. Fuck that hurt. But damn, that was funny. “Yeah, I get it. If you talk to her before I can, tell her I’ll call as soon as possible, and that I’m fine.”

  Arch gave me a skeptical look. “You do not look fine.”

  “Then tell her I said I was fine.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yup.”

  We were in the parking lot when Mom wheeled around. “Jacob Elijah Benton.”

  Fuck, she trotted out all three names.

  “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Alicia—”

  “Don’t,” Mom said to Joe, and he raised his hands. “This time, Jacob answers me. What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking Bubba was being an asshole.”

  She sighed, and Joe looked pained.

  “I get that I…I probably shouldn’t have punched him.” Damn it had felt good. “But after that—we had some issues that needed to be worked out.”

  Joe’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline, but he didn’t comment.

  “He’s your friend, Jake,” Mom said, easing back on my name. “Your friend. And you both do…” She waved her hand up and down at me. “This.”

  “Looks a lot worse than it feels.” Total lie, but I’d given Mom enough grief. “I’m sorry they called you and had to drag you down here.”

  “And?” She stared at me.

  “And I’m sorry I started a fight.” Not really, but again, it was what she needed to hear. “Am I suspended?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, and glanced at Joe.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know either. You’re going to have to talk to Diane to
morrow, in all likelihood, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they suspend you. I’m more worried about the team.”

  I didn’t give two flying fucks about the team. Which was weird. I used to love it, but it was because it was fun and I was competitive, but right now, it seemed more a burden than anything. I didn’t need it.

  “Well, Coach already has me riding a bench.”

  Mom rubbed her face. “You know I should ground you.”

  “Okay.” I’d hate it, but again, she had enough grief from me.

  “Why are you being so agreeable?”

  “Because I already pissed on your day, Mom,” I told her. “You didn’t deserve this, and it’s not your fault. So if you need to ground me, I’ll do it. If the school needs to suspend me, I’ll suck it up.” If I have to miss Frankie, I’d talk to her on the phone every second I got. Maybe she could come over.

  “Mrs. Benton?” Archie said, and Mom focused on him. “I know it’s none of my business. But—we fight. The four of us. The five of us, really. We have arguments and disagreements. Sometimes they get heated. This one just got a little rowdy.”

  “Rowdy,” Mom said. “That’s a word for it.”

  “I know, I guess what I’m trying to say is they basically put Jake in a timeout all day. That place was pretty dreary. If it were me…I’d be damn sure to never get stuck somewhere like that again. Lesson learned.”

  “If it were you.” There was almost a hint of amusement in Mom’s voice.

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head. “I need to talk to Joe, and Becca texted that she and your sisters are home. You can thank Coop for that.” When she stared at me for a long moment, some shame crept through me.

  “I’m really sorry, Mom. I’ll do better.”

  With an exasperated smile, she gave me a hug and then leaned back to study my face. “You really look terrible.”

  “It’ll heal, and it really doesn’t feel that bad.”

  She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Go on with Archie, I know you want to go find Frankie.” The last few words were soft. “Don’t scare her with that face.”

 

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