Page 17 of Guarded from Sabotage

As he turns towards me, a look of irritation moves across his face, but he quickly masks it. “What is it, Miss Pearce?”

“Can I just—” I make a little gesture for him to come over to me.

Sighing, he crosses the small reception area and comes to where I’m sitting in one of the small plastic chairs. Looming overme, not even trying to come off as sympathetic, he says briskly, “We got your statement, Miss Pearce. We’ll be in touch if we have more questions. What is it?”

“It’s just—” I swallow hard, trying to moisten my dry throat. “I can’t remember if I told you. But the man outside; he had a Northeastern accent. I could tell. It was the way he said some of his vowels. So… I thought that might help.”

The officer stares at me for a second, and then says in a flat tone, “I’ll make sure that’s added to the report,” before turning and walking away.

The band wrapped around my chest tightens another notch.

I never imagined being treated like this after being mugged. Not just mugged, but attacked. Threatened.

I thought the police would be kind and understanding. I thought they’d say reassuring things likewe’ll find this guyandeverything’s going to be okayandwhat can we do to help you?

Not that I ever imagined being mugged on my way out of work, but I didn’t think the police would leave me sitting in a plastic chair with a handful of bandages and alcohol wipes they scrounged from the first aid kit in their car. I didn’t think I’d have to clean my own cuts and scrapes, which is really hard when my hands keep bleeding.

They weren’t nice from the second they got here, and I have a pretty good idea why.

A loud rapping on the door makes my head jerk up, and when I see Dante’s familiar figure on the other side of the glass, I almost burst into relieved tears.

He came.

I know he said he would—I called him right after the police—but hearing him say it isn’t the same as him actually being here.

One of the officers moves towards the door, one hand resting on the gun at his hip. I call over, “His name is Dante DeLuca. I called him. He’s part of Blade?—”

The other officer—Officer Wright, who’s even less pleasant than the other one—snaps at me, “We’llhandle this, Miss Pearce. Stay out of it.”

But any worry I had about Dante dealing with the police disappears as soon as he gets inside. With his impressive height and size, his commanding posture and demeanor, he immediately takes control of the situation. Even across the room, I can hear his rumbly voice as he mentions names like Quint Axton and Hayden Yates and TJ Rockwell.

In under a minute, Dante heads over to me, his features set in hard lines and angles. His jaw is tight as he sinks to his knees in front of me, and I can practically feel the tension coming off him. But his gaze softens as it meets mine, and he asks gently, “Are you okay, Sarah? I got here as fast as I could.”

With a jerky nod, I reply, “I’m okay. Just—” My voice catches as emotion surges. “My car. My purse. All the rest of my—” I cut myself off before I start crying again.

His gaze sweeps from my face down my body, lingering on my poorly-bandaged hands and knees. A tiny muscle in his jaw twitches, and his voice goes all growly. “Thisis how they took care of your injuries?”

“No.” Tears burn behind my eyes. “I tried to do it. But my hands were bleeding, and they didn’t want me to use the bathroom to wash up, and?—”

“What?”Dante casts an angry look at the two officers, pinning Officer Wright with a glare. “They didn’t offer basic first aid? Didn’t offer to call an ambulance?”

“No.” In a small voice, I explain, “I think… they heard about me. From before, with the stolen car in Austin… And they…”

Tears well up, and I sniff against them as I say, “When I told them my car was stolen, they said I was wrong. It wasn’t. The car company repossessed my car. I didn’t know.” My words gethigher and faster. “I always pay on time, Dante. Always. Even with all of this… I know I made my last payment. Idid.”

“Sarah…” He carefully cradles my hand between his. “I’m sure you did.”

“They think I’m making it all up. First the car in Austin, then reporting my car stolen here… I don’t even know if they believe I was mugged. They—” A sob escapes. “They probably think I’m making that up, too.”

Dante’s expression shifts from compassion to anger.

In a cold tone he directs at the police, he says, “This is unacceptable. Denying basic first aid? Treating her like she’s a criminal instead of a victim? I’ll be speaking to my contacts on the force about this.”

Then he turns his attention to me, and his expression softens. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. For all of this.”

His kindness after everything is my undoing, and I burst into tears.

“Sarah.”Dante gathers me in his arms, tucking my head under his chin and rubbing slow circles on my back. “It’s going to be okay. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take you back to B and A and get you all cleaned up and bandaged. I used to be a medic, so I’ll make sure it’s done right. And I’ll get Matt working on this right away.”

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