Page 53 of Falling for a Killer

“Step out of the car,” the officer demands. “Both of you. Hands where I can see them.”

So they do know, then. He was the suspect. My heart drops to my stomach as I whisper to Killian not to resist, then get out the passenger side and nearly run into the cop’s partner. “I don’t have a weapon.”

“I’m going to be checking anyway,” he clips, turning me around so my hands are on the car, but from this angle I get to see just how rough the other officer is with Killian.

Apparently he was too slow to get out of the car as commanded, giving the cop an excuse to slam him down over the hood and handcuff him immediately. “I’m not resisting,” he grunts, but the officer doesn’t seem to believe him.

“We didn’t do anything wrong!” I yell, jerking just enough to piss the cop behind me off. “Why are you arresting us?”

“You said this was your boyfriend?” he asks, grabbing my hands to handcuff them behind my back, and Killian looks up to meet my gaze as the cop behind him reads him his rights. “I’m sorry,” he mouths silently, devastation written across his face.

White-hot fury races through me. He’s guilty and I know that, but it doesn’t matter to me. Lawson was worse. Cops like this ignore bad people all the time, yet it’s my Killian they choose to go after.

If Lawson would’ve been poor, this wouldn’t be happening.

“Fuck you both,” I gasp, wincing as the metal cuts into my wrist. “You’re making a huge mistake.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I can barely breathe as they shove us both into the back seat of their squad car, and the force with which they slam the doors feels a little too pointed — like they’re shutting the door on Killian’s life.

It’s a shame they don’t know who they’re messing with.

Twenty-Five:

The Questions

Glaring at the officer in front of me, I drop my eyes to the chain securing my cuffs to the bar on the table. “Is this necessary? Are you scared of a little girl?”

“We’ve seen some crazy perps of all genders and sizes here, Miss Moran. Now I’ll ask again, how long have you been dating Killian Blake?”

“Long enough. Do you have a wife, Officer—” my eyes drop to his nametag — “McKendrick?”

He clears his throat, setting his pen down. “Yes, I do. I’d like to stay on topic. How long is long enough?”

“How long have you been married?”

“Ma’am. Why are you avoiding the questions? Is it because you know your boyfriend is a murderer?” Immediately his expression changes like he wasn’t supposed to say that, and all my respect for him vanishes.

What a putz.

“Killian’s not a murderer. Are you?”

“I’m a man of the law,heis not. Do you not understand how serious this is? You will never see your boyfriend again unless you start answering my questions.”

My heart beats harder in my chest. The thought of never seeing him again hurts in ways I never expected, and now it’s a real possibility. “I don’t know exactly how long. A... a few months, I guess. But we’ve been together every waking moment, and I can assure you, he’s no killer.”

The officer grabs his pen and begins taking notes. “A few months. And how did you meet?”

Fuck. We never talked about this, there’s no way our stories will match. I can’t exactly tell the truth.

“To explain that, I need to ask you a question first. Did you read my file or whatever? Do you know the shit that happened with my ex fiance?”

“No, we don’t have any files on you, miss. Enlighten me.”

He interlocks his fingers and raises an eyebrow, pissing me off further. “You ran a search on my name, did you not? Whatever. My ex has been stalking me and a few months ago, he broke into my house and tried to kill me. The cops in my hometown did nothing about it, so I came to Windwinter to get away from him. I was staying in my parents’ cabin.”

“Okay, and where along the way did you meet Mr. Blake? Was it after April 28th?”

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