Page 68 of No First Kisses

That is Dom.

I almost feel bad for the trooper, whose name I don’t even know.

“Listen here, douche.” Dom moves around me, stepping forward until he is practically nose to nose with the other man. “I served for years, still serve as a matter of fact. And in my chain of command, you don’t mean shit. Jake? Yeah, he’s sheriff. Alex? Yeah, he’s chief of police. But you? You’re nothing but a peon sent down here to follow up on a claim made by a convicted drug dealer and murderer, whom none of us will take seriously because we all know it’s a lie. A lie spun by the man who tried to kill my friend and his girlfriend fourteen years ago. A man who did kill his little sister.” Dom doesn’t take a single breath that entire time.

The tension vibrating off him is enough to send even grown men scurrying. But none of us move.

He has my back; the least I can do is have his.

“Now, you listen here—” Trooper Douche, as I’m going to forever refer to him as, tries to get control of the situation. He just doesn’t have a clue who he is dealing with.

“No.” I put a hand on Dom’s shoulder, letting him know that I’ve got this. “You listen. Our lawyer is on his way here, more for your protection than ours at this point. I know Ortega. He was a sniveling little shit when he killed my sister all those years ago. And while we wait for our lawyer, maybe you should contact Birch Memorial Hospital and get the surveillance footage from two weeks ago on Wednesday at four p.m., where he cornered me in the middle of the lobby and admitted to me that he wanted to rape my pregnant fiancée. That, and he claimed to have sexually assaulted my underage sister before her death.”

We’ve gained an audience. Not only the deputies and troopers who are there to handle any incoming calls, I’m sure. But also the BPD officers who aren’t privy to my private life and all the bullshit that we’ve been going through with Ortega.

Amie Lee, the only female officer with BPD besides Emma, gasps and then turns a heated look on our chief.

Silence fills not only the bullpen, but the entire station, and I wait. Either for the trooper to open his mouth again or for Benton to get there.

“Awkward,” Linc whispers in a singsong voice a few seconds later. “Imagine how bad it’s gonna be when he finds out exactly how bad of a guy Ortega is.”

“The evidence is substantial,” Trooper Douche says snidely. “I’d like to see your good ol’ boy system get you out of it.”

But he does prove that he isn’t entirely worthless by putting in a call to the hospital and requesting the surveillance footage be sent over immediately. So, I can hate him, but I won’t plan on burying his body just yet.

When Benton Mays walks in thirty seconds later wearing a suit and tie that definitely announces his profession, I don’t think anyone knows what’s coming. At least, not until we sit around the screen in interrogation, watching what looks like a gang of police officers beating the shit out of Ortega.

“Those aren’t even BPD uniforms.” Ben pauses the video and then uses a pencil to point out the patch on the officer’s arm. The one that clearly says security.

“Look at the arms on those men, too,” Amie chimes in, having forced her way into the room with the determination of a pit bull.

“What about it?” Trooper Douche stares at the video with inquisitive eyes.

“None of these guys have tattoos in the video.” She waves at us. “All of our guys have them. Hell, these guys wouldn’t be able to function if they didn’t have tattoos at this point.”

That just serves to piss Trooper Douche off even more.

And we spend the next two days in the station, but only after he officially arrests all five of us. Without cause or charges.

By the second day, two hours before he has no choice but to release us, I’m ready to tear him apart at the seams. Unfortunately, I haven’t had a chance to get my phone call.

Ben walks into holding with duffel bags full of clothes that he hands through the bars.

“Don’t worry, guys,” he says with an evil grimace. “We’re definitely gonna sue.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that,” I snap as I strip down right there and change into something clean. “Is Poppy safe?”

His eyes flash and his mouth moves but I don’t hear the words over the racing of my heart and the blood pounding behind my eyes. It has to be bad, though, because suddenly everyone is there, holding me back.

“Something happened,” he says again, when it is clear that I don’t know what is happening.

“Wha—?” My voice breaks. I look at Ian, hoping he’ll say Ben is wrong. But his eyes don’t hold anything but fear.

“Poppy’s gone, Logan,” Ben says again slowly. Carefully. “The men from her father’s club who were guarding her were shot. Bax… Bax was there, too. He’s… not gonna make it.”

25

POPPY

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