Page 113 of Deserter

“Speeding.”

“That’s right,” he nodded encouragingly. “Speeding. I clocked you at thirty miles over the speed limit. Going somewhere in a hurry?”

I moaned as my belly tightened again and the light from his flashlight hit me full on in the face.

“My wife’s in labor, officer. So, if you don’t mind, I need to get her to the hospital. You wanna follow me there and give me a ticket, be my fuckin’ guest,” Jamie growled.

“License and registration please.”

He released my hand and yanked the papers from the glove box before going for his wallet. “Can you just write the goddamn ticket already?”

The officer looked down at Jamie’s ID before slowly bringing the flashlight back up to his face. “I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle.”

I mashed my lips together, but the tears were already starting to fall. “Jamie?”

“Everything’s fine, princess.”

It was a lie.

“You too, ma’am,” he ordered with a jerk of his flashlight.

“But,” I protested. “I’m in labor.”

He laughed humorlessly. “You know how many times we hear that from people trying to get out of tickets?”

Jamie threw the door open and stepped out, towering over the cop. “This don’t concern her and you know it. Write. The. Fuckin’. Ticket.”

He was close to losing his temper and even closer to taking a ride in the back of the cop car.

“Wait, I’m getting out. Just give me a minute.” I opened the door and climbed down with a low groan as the baby seemed to shift even lower. If she dropped any more, she’d be able to wave to the officer.

I used the bed of the truck as a crutch and slowly made my way over to them. “I’m—I’m here. Just write us a ticket or—” The pain barreled through me and I slumped against the side.

“Celia!”

“Sir, stay right where you are. Ma’am, keep your hands where I can see them!”

My hands were the only thing keeping me off the ground at the moment and I wasn’t letting go for anything.

“Ma’am!” The officer latched onto one of my arms. “Turn around.”

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Jamie warned.

I wanted to tell the officer to listen because he didn’t like repeating himself, but the pain was too much. It wasn’t like before. Something was wrong.

My arm was yanked back, and I lost my grip on the truck bed. Everything seemed to happen in slow-motion.

The cop suddenly let go, and I stumbled over my own feet before falling. I watched in horror as Jamie’s fist slammed into the man’s face with loud crack. They both went down on the road.

“You know who I am?” Jamie roared in anger before delivering another blow.

Strong arms caught me from behind and I flailed my arms in a last-ditch effort to right myself.

“We know exactly who you are. Hands on your head. James Quinn, you are under arrest for assaulting a police officer.”

I jerked away from the person holding me, horrified to see that we were surrounded by cops, most of whom had their guns drawn.

“I’m having a baby,” I whispered. “I’m having a baby.”

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