Page 43 of SNOB

Play. It. Cool.

I nod.

“Everyone’s saying you have something to do with it.”

“Of course, everyone thinks the girl from The Valley has something to do with it.”

Greta’s shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, Ember." The sincerity in her voice settles my pounding heart. “You know they’re looking for you, right?" And my heart pounds again. "I really can’t be involved. At all." She scrunches her face as if she’s in pain and I can’t tell if I’m the one causing it. “It’s best we keep our distance. I’m sorry.”

She turns to walk away again, a knot twisting in my gut. “Wait,” I call. “They? Greta, who’s they?”

“Miss Everett?”

A firm voice comes from behind me. It’s not Dean Patel but it screams authority. When I turn around, it’s exactly what I feared.

The cops.

Glancing behind me, Greta’s already gone.

Fuck.

“Can we have a word with you?” The officer asks, standing tall over me in uniform.

“Why?”

“We have some questions.” Another officer joins him, the two looking like a scene from a crime show. And I’m the fucking star.

“About?” I steady my shaky voice. Where I’m from, you don’t question the authorities. My eyes move to their hips. Especially ones with guns.

“Beau Laval.”

My throat tightens again. "I—I need a lawyer.”

“Oh?” One officer tilts his bald head to the side. “Why’s that?”

“Why not?” That deep, growly voice comes from beside me, the churn in my stomach coming to a stop. “You guys can spin anything.” A firm grip comes to my arm, heat coming with it. “One moment, officers.”

Mac tugs me a few feet away, pressing my back against the art building wall as the ground tilts below me. The cops want to question me. Me. The kid from The Valley. There’s no way I’m getting out of this.

“Hey, look at me.” Mac’s voice pulls me back, those iron eyes on mine. He looks more awake than he did this morning. His crisp white shirt and sleek black denim fitting his clean-shaven face and shiny hair.

“Where were you?” My brows furrow.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m here now.” His fingers trail down my arm, goosebumps rising to them. “Listen, you’re gonna talk to those cops.”

“No. They’ll arrest me, not you.” My mind spirals with what my life will look like. Behind bars. Away from Uncle Jake. My future ruined. Again. Tugging on my golden locket, Mac’s eyes drop to it before gazing back into mine.

“You’re not guilty so don’t admit guilt,” he says. “Don’t be aggressive. This is not The Valley. Be confident.” When I glance at the cops, Mac’s fingers land on my chin, pulling my gaze back to him. “Keep eye contact with them.” His other hand tickles my thigh before my eyes widen, a whoosh of air flowing between my legs. Is he seriously trying to catch a feel right now? But it’s hard to stop him, my hands stuck to my sides.

“I’m here with you.” His fingers trail my ass, something cold and soft pushing between my cheeks.

My stomach tightens. “Mac,” I gasp, something pushing further and further. Gripping his shirt, whatever it is fills me bigger than a finger, the pressure causing me to clench my thighs. It’s even harder to stop him now. How can I when the cops watch my every move?

“Ssshh,” Mac quiets me, my breath quickening as my hand tightens around his shirt. “No sudden movements, they’re watching us. I can’t be there with you while they question you but I’m here.” On his last word, my eyes widen when something settles inside my ass.

The fuck? Is that a plug? “Mac, I?—”

Someone taps on Mac’s shoulder. “A moment has passed.”

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