Page 137 of Roses in Summer

My brother pauses, which can only mean one thing: they didn’t get him. My anxiety claws its way back up my esophagus. Clearing his throat, he speaks the words I anticipate. “His apartment was wrecked, and we think he’s behind the gates of the club’s compound. For now, you’re safe. But for you and Bianca, it’s not smart for either of you to return to your apartment. They know exactly where you live, and if anyone wanted to take you out, the two of you living alone together is a prime target.” My heart breaks at the reminder that the third one, Olivia, isn’t part of the equation, at least not at the moment.

I glance up at Lincoln, an expectant look on his face at my brother’s statement. “Shut up, Lincoln.”

“I didn’t say anything. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you have enough closet space for when you move in. Now get your ass ready, we have an asshole to arrest.”

51

Lincoln

“That’s him, number five.” Seraphina’s voice is steady as she points toward the asshole at the end of the lineup.

“You’re sure?” Detective Maroaka asks, staring at Seraphina’s profile with an intensity that sets me on edge. I hold my tongue, letting her follow the motions of what she has to do to put the fucker behind bars.

“Yes, Detective. I’m sure.”

He nods, pressing a button below the glass panel before speaking into the intercom. “Number five. Officer, please detain him. Porter, I’ll be in the room in a minute.” He releases the button, preventing us from hearing anything inside the lineup room while Detective Porter and another officer follow Maroaka’s orders..

But that doesn’t mean we can’t see it.

An officer approaches Mitch, grabbing him by the arm in an attempt to escort him out. The moment the officer’s hand touches Mitch, he turns feral, like a rapid dog being cornered.

Mitch flings his arms out, twisting his upper body to deliver a blow to the officer’s face. The officer stumbles, releasing his hold on Mitch’s arm, giving Mitch enough room to deliver a kick to the officer’s knee.

“Oh my God!” Seraphina yells, clasping a hand over her mouth at the violence that breaks out on the other side of the glass.

“Fuck’s sake!” Maroaka bellows, ripping the door of the observation room open and storming next door. The officer recovers, and at the same time Maroaka enters, two more officers trail behind, who immediately approach Mitch and restrain him.

I reach for Seraphina, attempting to pull her behind me to cut off her view of the violence when she reaches forward, pressing the sound button on the intercom.

“You fucking cocksuckers. Get your hands off of me! Do you know who my parents are? My dad will have your ass for putting your hands on me.” The rest of the men from the lineup stand still, their backs against the wall as Mitch wails against the officers holding his arms back.

“Ciern, we don’t need to hear this,” I murmur.

“Who the fuck was that?” Mitch calls out, head whipping toward the glass that lets us see him, but prevents him from seeing us.

“Oh my God, he can hear us,” Seraphina whispers, eyes wide as she watches Mitch lurch toward the glass, only to be pulled back.

“Turn off the fucking intercom,” Maroaka yells, eyes narrowed at the glass.

“Seraphina?” He questions, snarling out her name. “You fucking cunt. You did this! This isn’t fucking over. You think Chris was bad? Wait until my father hears about—” I press the button, cutting off the sound once more, though Mitch continues to fight, even as the officers drag him out and his shouts echo through the halls.

Detective Maroaka returns, shaking his head as he closes the door behind him. “You never touch police equipment. Ever. Do you understand?”

“I’m so sorry. It was—”

Maroaka holds up a hand, stopping Seraphina from admitting her actions. “No. Stop talking before you say something I have to take action against. Thank you for coming down and identifying Mr. Abernathy so quickly. You’re free to go.”

He nods at us and reaches behind him to open the door.

“Wait,” Seraphina swallows, holding a hand up to her neck, undoubtedly replaying the heinous words of Mitch the Dick. “What happens now?”

“Now, Mr. Abernathy will be arrested for using violence against a police officer.” I think I hear the detective murmur “fucking idiot” under his breath, though I can’t be sure.

“And then?”

“And then we get the sons of a bitches for what they did, Ms. Gregori.” He nods once more and steps aside, giving us a not-so-subtle cue to leave the station.

“I—oh. Okay. Well, thanks?” Sera walks through the door, glancing in confusion at Maroaka.

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