Page 31 of Sugar Coated Secrets

“Or what? Are you threatening a police officer?” he warns, placing his hand on his gun.

Trent walks around, leans on the back of his car, and crosses his arms. “No, but our families will. When they hear you’re spreading things about people way above your pay grade. You can give us all the tickets you want. They will just get thrown out of court.”

“Because you have money?” Dickhead sneers, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a disdainful smirk.

“That’s right. Keep that in mind when you take out your notepad. Now go do some police work and leave the rich folks to play with their toys.”

“Alright,” Dickhead says a little too quickly. He starts to leave and comes back. “You know, you should really check on your friend Chris. He really looks like he’s going off the deep end.”

“He’s a big boy,” Trent says, making me frown.

I haven’t gone to visit Chris yet. My cars were supposed to be delivered on Monday but arrived today before the weekend. Why would Mays say that? Why would he bring up Chris? Something is not adding up.

“I think he should slow down.” Dickhead glances at me in warning. “He parties too much. Noise complaints. Rowdy behavior.”

“Ah, come on,” Trent says with a smile like they’re old friends. “You act like you are so much older than us. Like you didn’t have fun. What are you, twenty-six?”

“Twenty-eight,” he replies.

“You’re not that old,” I point out.

“Old enough,” Dickhead counters.

“Trying to settle down?” Trent asks, his grin widening like he gives a shit.

Mays smiles disarmingly and looks at me. “That’s the plan.”

Trent gives a short, derisive laugh. “Last I heard, you were dating that girl—” He snaps his fingers like he can’t remember her name, then raises his dark eyes to Mays. “Oh, yeah. Roxie. That was her name.”

I watch the color drain from Mays’s face. I guess someone needed their cock polished while he was being there for Dulce.

“See, Officer, I guess we all have secrets,” I say with a menacing smile.

Dickhead plays it off and checks his watch like he’s late for an appointment. “I gotta go,” he says.

“Hot date?” Trent says sharply.

Mays opens the door to his cruiser, looks at me directly, and says a little too easily, “It’s Friday night. You guys, be careful andstay out of trouble.” The way he looks at me before he gets in his cruiser causes something to sicken my gut and puts a sour taste in the back of my throat.

“Why do you think he backed off and left suddenly?” I ask Trent, watching the cloud of dust from the police car’s back tires as he drives off.

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t trust that son of a bitch.”

Trent laughs. “That’s because you know he wants to fuck Dulce. He’s all over your ass because you’re a threat.”

“She turned me down,” I admit.

“You asked her out?”

“Yep.”

He burst out laughing.

“Dulce Webster turned down the great Ford Keller. This…” He holds his fingers toward a mock gesture like he is taking a picture. “Is a picture worth having. It should go down in history.”

“Fuck you,” I spit.

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