Page 23 of Love to Stay

“You think I’m joking?”

The next thing I know, a fist is flying toward me. I see the one straight on and the one coming from the guy on my left. I twist out of the way and push Josie toward the car. “Here, get in and lock the doors. Now!” I shout when she hesitates. I avoid another punch but walk right into the third guy’s boot. My knee buckles, and I go down. I hear the car door open and then slam shut followed by Josie’s scream. One of the guys has abandoned the fight to trap her in his arms. These fuckers are going to die. I scoop up a handful of gravel and rise up, tossing it into the kicker’s eyes. While he claws at his face, I take on the leader. He lunges for me. I bounce out of the way, and when he flies past me, I kick the back of his leg. Hard. There’s a loud, sickening sound as his patellar fractures. I swing around and drive my fist into the second guy’s jaw. He goes down, too. I reach down and slam the leader’s head into the gravel twice and then stand to face the third. He pushes Josie toward me and sprints in the opposite direction.

I grab Josie close. “You okay, darling?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Are you?” She pushes my face from one side to the other. “Did they hurt you?”

“Not a scratch. My pretty face is untouched.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here.”

“Agreed.” I take her hand again, but another voice stops us.

“Not so fast, son.”

We pivot as one. My heart sinks low when I see two uniformed cops in front of us. One of them takes out a notebook. “Gonna need to see some ID,” he says.

Chapter Eighteen

JOSIE

“He saved me.” I repeat those words for the millionth time. They ring true now more than ever. He has really saved me in so many ways. I’d been on a cloud until those three jerks went and ruined it. Now I’m sitting in a metal chair that is killing my ass.

I have never been more scared in my life. Which is laughable now after seeing Mick take on those three men like they were nothing more than annoying mosquitoes. If I hadn’t been so freaked out, I would have been turned on.

“It’s different when one of those individuals is a professionally trained fighter.” I stare at the cop across the worn, scuffed-up table between us. It’s probably been here since before I was born. The old sheriff's station needs an update. That includes the sheriff I’m staring at, a bit dumbstruck.

“What?” Did I hear him right? “Are you saying because Mick is a trained fighter, he’s not allowed to defend himself? Us?” This can’t be happening.

I shouldn’t be shocked. My interactions with the police have never been great. I’d gone to them about the stalking and harassment before, and they passed it along, but nothing ever came from it. It had only made me feel more helpless and trulyalone. Now I have someone that does want to protect me, and they are trying to what? Take him away from me?

“He is a weapon. Intent to cause grievous bodily harm.” Oh, hell no. There is no way I’m going to stand by and allow them to try to pin this on Mick. He’s worked too hard to get to where he is.

“That’s bullshit.” I slam my hand down on the table hard.

“The fuck?” I hear a boom through the police station. They have Mick in another room. “Josie?”

Finlay, the officer across from me, starts to stand. “I’m fine!” I shout loudly before Mick ends up fighting one of them. I had finally gotten him to calm down earlier. I don’t want to do anything that will give these people an excuse to try to make his life harder.

“And that’s another thing.” Finlay gestures toward what I assume to be Mick's room. “Are you with him of your own free will?”

“This can’t be happening.” I put my face in my hands.

“He’s rather aggressive.”

I drop my hands, snorting a laugh because this is becoming ridiculous. Mick is like a sweet puppy to me. He just turns into a beast when provoked. He would risk his life to defend me.

“I think maybe it’s time for a lawyer.”

Finlay’s eyes widen. Is he seriously freaking surprised? “You’re not under arrest.”

Like that matters. That’s how these cops get you. They make you think you’re here of your own free will, while they try to pin their narrative on you. I’m not falling for it. I’ve watched enough crime shows to know better.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Only trying to help.” He sounds pouty as he says it.

I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts. “You’re fucking bored. That’s the only reason that I can think of as to why you are tryingto make this into something it’s not. This is probably the most action you’ve seen in forever,” I guess.

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