Page 86 of Twisted Games of Revenge

“Empty your pockets, sweetheart, we’re going to make this as quick and painless as possible.”

I put my hand in my jean pockets showing them they’re empty.

“Back pockets as well. And take off that wig, who knows what you’re concealing under there.”

“Hands on the table, legs spread,” calls the other guy angrily when I refuse to move.

I jump at his tone, not expecting it. But I can see this asshole is losing his patience with me already.

He runs his hands down my body, patting me down, lingering on my ass way longer than he should be. Then his hand slips into my back pocket, and he pulls free my knife. “What do we have here?” he shows the combat knife to the other guy.

“Looks like it could be the murder weapon, you might have just made this very easy for us.” He moves around to the other side of the table and slams Alessandro’s knife down just out of my reach.

I stare him down, not sure what he expects me to say. But all of a sudden, I’m very grateful Alex had the sense to switch knives.

“Take a seat, Miss Havardi,” the other cop with the bleeding nose wheezes.

I do as I’m told, sitting across from them, tossing my wig down on the table to prove I’m not concealing anything under it; what’s the point in my disguise now anyway. They know who I am. The guy with what looks like a broken nose, from the amount of swelling and darkness under his eyes, does the same, sitting across from me. The other remains standing, arms crossed over his chest. “Why don’t you tell us what you’re doing here?”

“Isn’t that your job?” I snap back with a little too much sass. But I just remembered where I know this asshole from. Valentina’s garden party. He was right there with Police Commissioner Palmer and Detective Carillon. What was his name? Hops, I think. Fuck, I’m so fucking screwed if the commissioner has anything to do with my arrest.

“Are we going to find the blood of our colleague on this knife?” He taps it on the table right in front of me.

I cross my arms over my chest and smile back at him smugly. “I’m going to reserve my right to keep quiet until my lawyer is here.”

“It’s going to be a long night in a holding cell for you then, Miss Havardi. I’m sure in your condition it would be easier to get this interview over with, wouldn’t it?”

I look him over, wondering what the fuck he’s talking about, “my condition.” We haven’t announced my pregnancy to anyone. I lean back in the chair, indicating I’m not going to say a word.

The broken nose guy shoves his chair back, and it scratches on the linoleum floor. He approaches Detective Hops. “Call him. She’s not going to say shit,” he mutters right up in Hops’s face.

Hops must agree with him because he pulls his phone from his pocket and dials someone. “The girl’s waiting on a lawyer,” he grumbles down the line, then listens to the person on the other end of the phone.

I glance at the other guy, wondering what the hell is going on.

Then Hops disconnects the call and looks back to me, a sly smile on his face. “Put her in the holding cell till her lawyer gets here,” he grumbles.

His grip is firm on my arm as we walk down the long, dimly lit corridor, the silence broken only by our footsteps, until we reach the cold steel door of a holding cell. With a violent shove, he pushes me inside, the air knocked from my lungs, just catchingmyself. Then he slams the door shut, the impact reverberating off the concrete walls.

I collapse onto the bench seat and bury my head in my hands. Fuck. Not only am I fucking locked up for killing a cop, one of their friends probably, but I’m sure it won’t be long before creepy Commissioner Palmer finds out about it and is down here fucking bothering me. After our last altercation, I know it’s not going to go well.

Chapter 37

The sound of heavyfootsteps has me raising my head. I make out a couple of men walking down the hall toward me. I stand in a rush, my heart pounding out of my chest when I realize one of them is my brother. It’s been so long since I saw him last. I know he must be furious with me for taking off and pulling a gun on his girlfriend, but he has to understand why I did it. “Marco,” I cry as I make it to the metal bars separating us. “You have to tell them I didn’t do what they think.”

The guard turns a key in the lock, turning toward my brother. “She’s your responsibility now,” he says as he swings open the heavy door.

I rush toward my brother, throwing my arms around his body and burying my head in his chest. With one arm, he hugs me weakly, patting my back. I pull back slightly, staring up at him. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper through the tears choking up my throat.

“We can talk more in the car,” he tells me, and I hope the cold distance in his voice is because we’re still in the police station and he can’t say too much here.

The guard shows us out of the holding cell part of the station, and we walk down a long corridor to an emergency exit. He shoves open the door, and next thing I know it, the two of us are outside in the cold evening air.

A shiver comes over me, goosebumps covering my skin. I glance back at him, confused. “Shouldn’t I have to sign something? This doesn’t seem right.”

“Don’t ask questions when you’ve been handed a free fucking pass for killing a cop.” He opens the passenger side door of his car, and I slide in, feeling defeated.

A free pass? Did Alessandro bail me out somehow? Why isn’t he here then? I swallow the lump that’s now formed in my throat. “Am I missing something?”

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