Page 6 of First Surrender

Over her head, I can see Natalie and Zachariah Keller, street name Zeek, arguing again. I believe she can handle her own, but I don’t like disturbances in my courthouse and Zeek has a warrant.

“Right, I’ll have to get in touch to set up a time to meet. Excuse me, I have business to handle.” I skirt past her, dismissing whatever response she has. Bee lining to the raised voices.

“It’s only a matter of time before Declan is out of here and we’re getting the boy back from you. You might as well stop fighting it!” Zeek barks at her, mere inches from her face.

“I will fight for Dec until the day I die you rat bastard,” she replies calmly, with all the malice in her small body.

As entertaining as it is to watch her, I’ve heard enough.

“Zachariah, you’re under arrest.” I pull out my cuffs, grabbing his wrist in a vice grip and twisting it behind his back before he can pull away.

“What the fuck? Why?” He cries, tugging his arms anyway with no success.

“You have a warrant, failure to appear.”

“Good going, dumb ass,” Natalie goads him.

“Not helping,” I grunt as I cuff his second wrist.

The huff that leaves her chest is razor-sharp. “I’m not here to help you, Sheriff Small Dick. I don’t care if he fights you.”

I have him secure so there isn’t anything stopping my focus from settling completely on the woman who just snapped a heinous insult at me. I don’t know whether I’m shocked or offended, but I’m too dumbfounded to respond. Sheriff Small Dick? What did I do to deserve that?

It doesn’t matter, she turns on her heel and struts away without a care in the world. The confidence oozing out of that woman is something else.

“That’s why we call her the Ice Queen. She’s a fucking bitch,” Zeek whines. I jerk his hands so he has to move along with me. I don’t like that type of language. Not toward her, not toward anyone.

Plus, even I can tell there isn’t anything icy about her. She’s full of fire.

Chapter Four

Natalie

“I need you to consider that this case might not go how you want.”The words the prosecutor told me after the judge dismissed the warrant are at the forefront of my thoughts, harassing me.

Of course, it isn’t going how I want because Declan Randolph is still breathing. I want him lined up in front of a firing squad.

I’m grumbling about it and the incompetence of every man that I’ve encountered today when I pull into the gravel lot behind my apartment. Dec’s bus will drop him off soon so I sit in my car in the heat until it does. Even in the south, it stays cold in the mountains early in the year. Not nearly as cold as New York was, but there’s still a chill in the air.

I never expected to be stuck living in my hometown, I always had big dreams to travel until my mom got pregnant. I hate the fake niceties of people that you’ve known your whole life who judge you behind closed doors. I hate that there are only two semi-decent restaurants. I hate that the only apartment I could find is on the second floor above a paint shop. If the fumes kill me one day I’m suing. Or rather, I’ll tell Dec to sue so he can get a nice goose egg to start a new life.

A police car drives by as I’m staring at the road waiting for the yellow bus to pull up and it reminds me of Sheriff Small Dick.I was pretty proud of the little nickname that rolled off the top of my head.

When he didn’t react, I wanted to scream. He’s like a robot, completely emotionless, and all I want to do is get under his skin.

Twice now he has interrupted me when I’m standing up for myself. Twice he has tried to be a savior to someone who has not asked to be saved. It’s clearly a part of his God complex. Save all the women and children first. Blah, blah, blah.

He’s probably used to women throwing themselves at him for that very reason and it makes me want to puke. He comes near me and I want to stick my hands in his objectively perfect hair and fuck it up.

The bus arrives before I can go off on another tangent in my head and I meet Dec at the bottom of the metal staircase that leads up to our door. “Hey, buddy. How was school?”

“It was okay, our class didn’t get recess because some kids were being loud during attendance.” His little shoulders are slumped as we ascend the stairs. My sweet baby brother and his big heart. It kills me that he misses out on fun because of some stupid kids.

“Well, it happens. I’m sure you’ll get to play tomorrow,” I assure him. I’m never as cynical to him as I am in my head.

“Yeah, I hope so. Can I have a snack in front of the TV today?” He asks as he dumps his Spider-Man backpack into the corner of the entryway. I don’t have the heart to disappoint, so I agree and he gallops to the kitchen, completely forgetting his not-so-great school day.

I hope he can always keep that spirit. Let the bad roll off your back and move on. I want him to have a good future and toaccomplish everything he wants. My only dream now is for him to accomplish his.

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