Page 63 of Text Appeal

“That’s Riley,” says Ava, avoiding the gazes of all those gathered. “She’s with Connor.”

Denise no longer looks as happy. But at least she’s secured her son’s freedom. “Thank you for calling me, honey. I’ll leave you to handle things from here.”

Ava nods. “You don’t want to stay to see him?”

“I’ll catch up with him tomorrow when he’s had a chance to clean up.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you,” I blurt out. Which may or may not be a weird thing to say. I am too worked up to tell and the etiquette for the situation eludes me.

Denise nods and heads for the door. Still with her purse tucked under one arm.

“Scheisse.” Katja shakes her head. “What a woman.”

“Are Martha, Noor, and Joyce really in the car, do you think?” I ask in a whisper.

Ava snorts. “Of course not. Bingo and brews never finishes before midnight.”

“Huh.”

“Let’s go,” says Ava.

Katja blinks. “Are you sure?”

Ava nods.

The lieutenant doesn’t say a word as she escorts me to the holding cells. What is there to say? Having your moronic bully of a boss get his ass handed to him by a small woman with a large purse sure is something.

Through a heavy locked door, down a long corridor, through another locked door, and into a room with several holding cells we go. As you’d expect, the station’s innards are bleak, oppressive, and depressing. Just lots of concrete and metal. Whatever’s the antithesis of cozy—that’s what this is. Neither a throw nor a cushion nor a charming vintage landscape of the sea in sight.

And why I’m focusing so hardcore on the furnishings is a mystery. My heart is beating double time. From fear or excitement or a combination of both, I do not know.

Connor is in the first cell. His brows draw together as he grips the bars. A raw and angry red laceration covers his cheekbone. The split in his lower lip has already dried. But his poor sore face is swollen in both places. Makes me want to march back out to the waiting room and hit Brian. Which would not be helpful.

I grip the bars and get in good and close. “Hey. Hi.”

“What are you doing here, Riley?” asks Connor. “Didn’t think I’d be allowed visitors. But I’m damn happy to see you.”

“I’ve come to get you out.”

“Have you?” He grins. And then he winces and gently prods at his lip. “How are you planning on doing that?”

“Ah, well, I baked you a cake with a file in the middle. Only problem is, all I had was a nail file so it’s going to take you a while. But better than nothing, right?”

“Do you know you babble when you’re nervous?” He wraps a hand around one of mine. “You’re trembling, Blue. Are you okay?”

“You’re the one who got hit. Twice even.”

He just waits.

“It’s been a night. But I’m fine. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” Then he turns to the lieutenant and asks, “Your boss in a better mood yet?”

“Worse if you can believe it,” says the lieutenant.

Connor grunts. “You’ll have to have your hero do hard time now. What with him being based on me.”

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