Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
The two policemen look at me. “That’s fine. We are here for Ms. Dunghart.” My heart is beating so fast that I wonder if they can hear it.
“Well, since she’s my old lady, the same goes for her. Our lawyer needs to be present.”
At last, the officer whose hand is on his holster speaks. “So, you two are married? It’s legal?”
“We will answer all questions with our lawyer present.” Edge stares at them.
“Well, let me make it easy for both of you.” He looks at Edge. “Crystal Bernard has charged your wife with battery.” He isn’t buying the wife part, and did he say Crystal is going against the club?
“That’s a lie.” Edge’s voice ping-pongs around the room.
“I hope so. Otherwise, that stab wound you have can be used as evidence that Dolores Dunghart tried to murder you and Crystal Bernard.” He doesn’t blink and rattles this off as if he’s bored. Instead, my whole life is crumbling.
“That’s attempted murder,” he says it like we’re stupid.
“What?” I croak, blinking at them several times as I try not to start wheezing. Edge could tell the truth and I would go to jail. I should go to jail; in a moment of insanity I did 100 percent try to cut off his penis.
“Crystal is lying and on drugs.” His voice sounds menacing even to me.
“So, she didn’t stab you?”
“She did not. Write this down. My wife was at her salon when I tripped on the knife.”
The room gets quiet save for the beeps outside and the other cop’s radio.
“You’re legally married?” Officer Richards looks at me. I go to speak but Edge does it for me.
“Yes.”
And I might pass out again. “Is this true?” The cop turns to me, his eyes traveling up and down my face.
“Yes.” It’s raspy but clear.
Both cops look at each other. “We’ll get in touch with your lawyer. I’m assuming you have an alibi, right Dolores? Someone who was with you at your salon?”
“She does.” Edge again takes over.
They both nod. “We’ll go back to Crystal.” They turn to leave until Officer Richards stops at the door.
“It’s crazy. I thought the 911 call was from a Dolly?”
“It wasn’t.” Edge straightens to his full six-foot-four glory,
“We’ll need the marriage certificate.” They walk to the door, and Officer Border says over his shoulder, “Get your lawyer ready. Crystal’s story is not the same as yours.” I’m nodding like a bobblehead. Edge’s voice calms me, which helps as I’m about to hyperventilate.
“You might want to talk to her again. I’m sure she’s had time to sober up and her memory has to be much clearer.”
Both cops turn to glare at Edge. “Don’t kid yourselves. We know how your club works—”
“Contact my lawyer.”
The room crackles with anger and bad energy and it’s all my fault. Screw that. Edge is not a saint. He’s the one who started this mess.
“Oh, don’t you worry. He’ll be hearing from us.” They smirk as they pull open the door and the stupid perky nurse enters.
“Oh… I’m sorry.” Her head swings back and forth from us to the cops. “Should I come back?”
“No, we’re done with them,” the cop sneers.
The door quietly closes, and the nurse waits until they’re gone before she hands Edge his card. He takes it. Numb, I stare at him.
The side of his jaw twitches, which is a bad sign. If he keeps grinding his jaw that way, he’ll break a tooth.
“Edge? I—”
“Let’s go.” He hands the girl the receipt and other signed papers.
“Okay,” I whisper. He doesn’t wait and grabs my hand.
“Jesus.” My feet seem not to be working. I’m either in shock or I truly did have a stroke.
“Move, Dolly.” It’s a demand. He propels us forward.
“This is so bad,” I mumble.
He squeezes my hand. “I can’t deal with any more shit, Dolly. Stay mute.” He punches the elevator to bring us down to the lobby.
It’s empty. All the crazy stuff that went down earlier is almost like a bad dream. All that remains is a bunch of people waiting for news about their loved ones.
“I hope everyone is okay,” I say.
The glass doors that lead to the outside slide open and there stand Axel and Blade smoking.
“Not one fucking word,” he hisses as we approach them.
Both of them stare at me, making me slide closer to Edge. I don’t care if he hates me. I need him right now if the disgust on Blade’s and Axel’s faces is any indication.
“The pigs talk to you?” Blade asks.
“Yeah. I need a cigarette.”
He tosses Edge his pack as we all move toward the parking lot.
I do a quick glance at him since I’ve been staring like a zombie at the palm trees straight ahead. Blade scowls at me making me feel as if I’m the biggest disappointment ever.
“Okay, so how do you want to handle this?”