Page 25 of Sometimes You Fall

“Well, we can do this the hard way, then.” He reaches for the radio attached to his chest. “I’ve got a suspect in custody. Attempted burglary, trespassing, breaking and entering, and he’s not willing to talk. I’ll be bringing him in to stay the night in a cell. Get it ready for him, will ya?”

“You’re taking me to jail?” the kid cries out in disbelief.

“If you don’t want to talk, a night in a cell should help change your mind really quickly.”

“Fine. My name is Chase. Chase Warner,” he grates out and then looks up at me. “Can you get off of me now?”

I glance up at Frank who nods. “I’ll put him in cuffs. He’s not going anywhere.”

Once I stand up and Frank secures the kid with his hands cuffed in front of him, sulking against the wall, I walk over to the Nova to assess the damage. Frank tries to get ahold of the kid’s parents.

“Fuck.” Staring at my car, I clench my jaw so hard my teeth threaten to crack. The hood is wrecked, dented so deep in the middle that I know there’s no salvaging it. One of the brand-new headlights I just replaced is shattered too.

Glaring back at the kid, I debate going over there and asking what the fuck his problem is, but Frank strides up to me before I can move. “His mom is on her way.”

“Good. Any luck catching the other two?”

Frank shakes his head. “Unfortunately, no. The best bet we have is getting the kid to squeal on his friends.”

“Snitches get stitches, Frank. The kid isn’t going to talk.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Once I tell the mom he’s facing charges of trespassing, vandalism, and breaking and entering, she might force him to talk.”

I snort. “Anything else we can charge him with?”

Frank leans closer to me, lowering his voice. “You’re certain you want to press charges?”

I gesture to my car. “Are you looking at the same classic car with the dented in hood and busted headlight that I am?”

Nodding, he takes a step back. “I get it, but he’s a kid.”

“Who broke into my garage, destroyed my car, and…”

Before I can finish, the door from the reception area swings open violently and the last person I expected to see races in. “Chase! Chase?”

“Scottie?” My feet move toward her on instinct.

“Grady,” she breathes out, her hair as wild as her eyes. “Where’s Chase?”

I spin my head around, wondering if I’m being punked. “Wait…”

“Oh my God.” She pushes past me, heading right for the kid, her robe open and flowing behind her.

Fuck.

The kid’s name is Chase.

Scottie’s son’s name is Chase.

This is Scottie’s son.

And my night just got a lot more fucking interesting.

Chapter six

Scottie

“What the hell is going on?” I stare down at my handcuffed son, trying to wrap my head around this. My lungs are barely taking in air, but I’m certainly wide awake now.

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