Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I’d been sitting there for a good hour when I got my phone call.
“You’re up.”
I blinked and stood, my eyelids feeling like they were lined in sandpaper, and walked toward the open cell door that tattooed older-man hottie was holding open.
“Why do I know you?” I asked curiously.
The man’s eyes rose, but he studied me more carefully.
“I’m not normally working this area, but the man that usually does had to go home because his wife’s in labor,” he said. “Have I arrested you before?”
I snorted.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I don’t make it a habit of getting caught,” I told him.
His lips twitched. “Meaning, you do bad things, but you never do them in ways that will find you visiting the insides of a place like this?”
I shrugged.
He grinned and led me to the phone, and I grimaced.
It’d been touched by so many people.
There were likely germs all over it.
I licked my lips and shrugged. “I… changed my mind. I don’t want to make a phone call.”
Tattooed hottie frowned. “Why not?”
I gestured toward the phone. “I’ll just go sit back in the cell and wait until my hearing tomorrow. I don’t really want to talk to my brother anyway.”
My eyes went to the man’s chest and I saw that the little named etched onto his badge read ‘Perez.’
I narrowed my eyes.
Damn, that really did sound familiar.
“Who’s your brother?” He paused. “And what’s wrong with the phone?”
I shivered before saying, “Every single person that’s touched it tonight probably hasn’t washed their hands in hours. Not to mention y’all probably never even wipe it down. And, since there’s a freakin’ toilet in the jail cell and no fucking sink to wash our hands with, there’s probably even more than that. So no, I’ll just sit there all night, wait for the judge to see me in the morning, and leave it at that.” I took a deep breath. “And my brother’s name is Sam Mackenzie. Not to mention my brother-in-law is named James Allen, though he’s out of town so you might not want to bother him.”
Something in the man’s eyes changed at the mention of that name.
Without another word, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, flicked a few buttons with his massive tattooed thumbs, and then placed the phone to his ear.
I watched, quite fascinated really, as the muscles on his throat worked, as well as the tattoos there.
“Sam.” The man’s voice sounded in my ear. “It’s Michael. Got a girl here refusing to make a phone call because it’s dirty. But she says she’s your sister.”
I could hear my brother’s growly voice, and I winced because likely I’d woken his butt up.
It was well into one in the morning now, and likely he’d been asleep for hours.
Michael’s attention snapped to me and his eyes narrowed. “Five-foot-three. Long, curly black hair. Attitude from hell. Refusal to touch shit because of germs.”
A grin kicked up on Michael’s face. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Michael hung up his phone and shoved it back into his pocket.
“So, on a scale of one to he’s really pissed, what was he at?” I asked.
“Sam Mackenzie’s baby sister, the sweetest little girl I ever did see, getting arrested? Yeah, he wasn’t happy.” He paused. “I have to take you back to the cell. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “You boys keep saying that tonight. Yet, none of you were there when the man refused to let me leave, and then his bodyguard tried to hurt me.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
I told him what happened at the bar, and he looked pissed on my behalf.
“You know who Rogan is, don’t you?” Michael asked as he opened the cell back up.
“No freakin’ idea,” I mumbled. “But, sadly, there are about twenty witnesses saying that I was the instigator.”
“That’s because Rogan Germain is an A-list actor here to film a movie. I think it’s called the Runweavers? I don’t know. But the police department has been doing some hella crowd control for them since they’ve been here,” Michael said as he opened the cell door.
I went inside and turned to see him narrowing his eyes on the women. “You need anything, call out.”
I wouldn’t.
I could take care of myself.
My brothers and father made sure of that.
***
I was resting my eyes, trying valiantly not to lean my head against the dirty, dingy wall at my back, when I heard the steps.
Sighing in relief that he’d finally arrived, I stood up and walked to the bars.
Sam appeared seconds later with Saint.
Michael was showing him something on his phone.
My eyes went to the phone where Sam’s eyes were glued, and the more he watched, the tenser his jaw became.
They both stopped at the front of the cell, and Rowdy Rhonda and Twat Tiffany cat-called.
I grinned when Sam finally looked up. “It’s nice to know that you still got it, bro.”