Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Why the hell was he at Zepp’s house?
Zepp’s frame filled the doorway as the light from inside cut across the lawn. My heart let out a pathetic little hiccup, and I sucked in a painful breath when his gaze strayed to the street. He dragged a hand through his hair on a nod, then stepped outside. Jacobs smiled when he placed a pair of cuffs on Zepp’s wrist. Taking him by the shoulders, he forced him toward the stairs. What was he doing? Why was Zepp being arrested?
Zepp’s gaze dropped to the ground when Jacobs stopped him at the curb, then opened my door. “Seems there was a misunderstanding.” He motioned me out before unfastening my restraints. “You’re free to go, Miss James.”
“What?” I glanced between the two of them. “Zepp, what are you doing?” Tears filled my eyes as realization crept over me. Jacobs had been after Zepp for so long, and now Zepp was taking the fall. “No, you caught me red-handed. Arrest me,” I said to Jacobs.
“The suspect is in custody, Miss James. I suggest you move along now.”
“Zepp?” My voice broke. He had priors, and he was eighteen. They’d lock him up for sure. “Don’t do this.” But Jacobs shoved him into the back of the cruiser.
“Told you I was gonna go to jail for something, Roe. Might as well be you.” Then the door slammed closed, and Jacobs climbed behind the wheel, flashing the lights before he peeled off.
“What the fuck?” Hendrix shouted from the porch. Footfalls jogged down the steps and across the drive before he skidded to a stop beside me, staring down the street. “Did Jacobs arrest Zepp? What the hell for?”
For me. “Grand theft auto,” I whispered.
“There’s no way the guys at the chop shop would rat him out. No fucking way!” He clasped his hands behind his head, elbows out as he mumbled, “We haven’t even lifted a car in weeks.”
No, but I had, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell Hendrix that his brother had just traded himself for me.
His narrowed gaze aimed at me. “Why are you here?”
I sucked in a breath. “I got arrested.”
Hendrix’s jaw set. “Fuck you, Monroe.” Then he turned his back to me and headed toward his house.
“I didn’t ask him to do this!” I shouted after him, my voice breaking.
He flipped me off before the door slammed.
Screw him, and screw Zepp for being so self-deprecating that he would take the fall for this. A sob caught in my throat at the thought of him in jail. Because of me. He didn’t deserve it.
* * *
The past month had been shit. I’d heard nothing from Zepp since the night I watched Jacobs take him away. It was like he had died, and I was grieving his absence that was so absolute. I struggled to sleep. I struggled to adjust to my life without him in it. The hateful glares Hendrix shot at me every time he passed me in the hallway at school didn’t help. I hadn’t asked Zepp to do it, but it didn’t make me feel any less guilty. It didn’t hurt any less. And yesterday, when Wolf sent a text saying I was on Zepp’s visitor list, I broke all over again.
I took a trembling breath as I looked up the razor wire fencing surrounding Hucksfield Penitentiary.
I stepped inside the cold, gray building. A sense of depression lingered heavily in the air. It should have been me locked away like an animal.
The guard took all of my possessions, and I signed a form before he escorted me into the bleak waiting room. By the time I got through, my nerves were so fraught, my hands trembled. A line of tables filled the room, each with a prisoner in an orange jumpsuit. Zepp sat at the table against the far wall, his gaze fixed out the barred window. A lump formed in my throat when I noticed the bruises on his face, and the fresh split in his bottom lip. Taking a breath, I crossed the room and pulled out the chair across from him.
I was standing on one side of a very messy, blurred line, and he was on the other. I didn’t know what to say to him.
“Why?” It was the one question that had been burning through my mind since his arrest. Why did he push me away? Why did he take the fall? Why didn’t he call me for the last month? Why, why, why…
He turned away from the window, his eyes unreadable. “Because I love you.” He placed his cuffed hands on the table, clasping them together. “And you deserve better than Dayton, Roe.”
“You didn’t do it, though! This is bullshit, and you know it.” My voice hitched.
“Doesn’t matter if I did or not. I’m here.” He nodded toward me. “You’re there. And that’s the way it belongs.”