Page 89 of A Little Tempting

“Thought so,” the first officer replies. The condescension in his voice is so thick I swear I could choke on it.

This is bullshit. I shake my head, convinced I’ve entered an alternate universe, when Griffin tugs me into him. “Let him go.”

“But this is bullshit!” I repeat, voicing the words aloud instead of letting them fester inside.

The first officer finally looks at me and cocks his head, daring me to have another outburst.

Part of me wants to. Not because I’m an idiot. Or maybe I am, but I’ve never looked for trouble. Never skipped school. Never stole anything or even had the nerve to argue with my teachers. But this? This isn’t fair. Clearly, this cop, his fuckingfather, has it out for Reeves, and seeing the injustice of it all? It makes me sick to my stomach.

Everett moves closer, blocking the first officer from my view as he towers over me. “We both know this is bogus. But the faster you cooperate with the police and let him cooperate with the police, the faster they’ll know it’s bullshit, meaning he’ll be home sooner.”

Everett’s right. I know he is. But this feels wrong. So freaking wrong.

“Reeves,” I whisper. My eyes well with tears as I watch the officer slap the cuffs into place around Reeves’ wrists.

“It’s gonna be okay, Dylan,” he promises.

I wish I believed him.

22

DYLAN

Someone called the cops. It makes sense since, ya know, there was a full-on brawl in the middle of a university’s Homecoming dance. The view of his father’s hand on the back of Reeves’ head as he was forced into the back seat of the police car is ingrained in my memory, and the unfairness of it all makes me see red.

Everett drives me back to our house in Reeves’ car while Griffin takes his date home with Finley and Drew. Mav and Ophelia offered to come over after Griffin told them what happened—they were hooking up in an empty room and missed the entire thing—but I didn’t see the point. There’s nothing we can do.

It’s a short but silent ride. Resting my throbbing head against the cold passenger window, I watch as trees blur together, blending in with the inky darkness. When we pull up to the garage, he cuts the ignition but doesn’t reach for the door handle, and honestly, I’m too numb to do much of anything.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he mutters.

My eyes cut to his. “What the hell happened, Ev?”

“We fought.”

“Duh.” I scoff. “Did you know his dad’s a cop?”

He hangs his head and squeezes the steering wheel as the lights from the dashboard highlight the regret in his stoic expression. “Yeah.”

“Did you know how much he hates Reeves?”

Wiping at the corner of his eye, Everett nods. “Yeah, Dylan. I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you defend him?”

“I tried.”

“Yeah, and you were too worried about your precious record for any of it to actually mean anything.” My nose wrinkles in disgust. “You’re a coward.”

His hands tighten around the steering wheel. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I can protect myself.”

“How?” he demands. “By putting yourself in the crosshairs and hitting your head?”

My fingers move to the bruise along my cheekbone as if they have a mind of their own, and I flinch despite the light pressure. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.”

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