Page 79 of Look at Her and Die

“Good, maybe you can get her to explain why her car was seen lit on fire, her presumed to be in it, then a cop at the hospital called to tell us that this girl was responsible for maiming a poor kid.”

“A poor kid?” Searcy asked, eyes blazing. “Are you telling me that you’re victim blaming right now? You have no clue what happened tonight. None. Yet, you automatically assumed that it’s the girl’s fault?”

The cop’s narrowed eyes got even narrower.

“I’m just going off of facts right now,” he said. “She has yet to give her side of the story, so I’m left putting together pieces on my own, and what I’m finding are not good.”

“We want a lawyer,” Searcy said. “Immediately. She will not talk until she’s spoken with her lawyer.”

The cop rolled his eyes. “We’re here to question her, not you. And she hasn’t asked for a lawyer yet. She’s an adult.”

“I want a lawyer,” Calliope replied immediately.

Long sighs filled the night air around us from the cops. “Is she under arrest?”

“No,” the cop replied.

“Then we’ll meet you down at the station,” I countered.

“That’s…”

“She’s not under arrest,” a cop that I recognized said. Assman, if I remembered correctly. “We’ll meet you down at the station.”

I nodded, then said, “Calliope, you want to ride with us? Or do you want to find your own ride?”

Calliope took a look all around, then said, “Uh…I don’t have a ride. Nor any money for an Uber. But I’ll find a ride…”

“We can take you,” Officer Assman said as he walked away.

“I’ll take a ride,” Calliope blurted, stepping as far away from the cop as she could get.

Chuckles again filled the air, though this time from the club brothers around me.

“I’ll take her,” Gunner said.

Calliope looked from me to Gunner, and her eyes widened.

From what I understand, Gunner had always been a ‘hot guy’ according to all the females that came into the club. He was also the youngest among us early his thirties, which was still nearly fifteen years older than Calliope.

“I have an extra helmet anyway, because my niece was in town,” he said as he gestured toward his bike where a sparkly pink helmet sat.

“I’ll be fine,” Calliope said, but Gunner was already shaking his head.

“You’ll wear it or you won’t ride,” he said.

Calliope opened her mouth to reply when I said, “We lost a club brother two years ago because he wasn’t wearing a helmet. We don’t ride without helmets anymore.”

June, one of our club brothers, had been riding home from Kentucky visiting a friend when someone had pulled out in front of him. He’d slowed down, would’ve been fine really, but the bike hit a pothole and sent him skidding. June had hit his head on the concrete road and had died on impact.

That’d been the only thing injured on him. Everything else had been perfectly covered.

From then on, we’d made a pact in the club that we wouldn’t ride without our helmets.

And it’d stuck.

“Let’s get this over with.” Calliope sighed.

Twenty

---