Page 47 of Mayhem

“What the hell?” Nate grumbles as he pauses the movie.

We both get up and follow Chase.

“What’s going on?” I ask, but Chase ignores me.

Nate glances at his own phone. “Cops.”

We all walk outside to meet them.

There’s one cop car, two officers, and one dead woman walking.

What is Celeste thinking?

We stand close together, looking like a unified front. The officers step closer to us, looking pained.

“Mr. Rockford, this woman here has a complaint against you,” the first officer speaks up.

“Complaint? He’s fucking my minor daughter,” Celeste screams from behind him.

“Ma’am, I need you to stop speaking,” the second officer says as he motions for her to back off.

Thankfully, she shuts up.

“Gibson, good to see you. How’s the wife?” Chase leans against the porch railing.

“Mr. Rockford, this is a serious allegation. Not something the judge will take lightly.” Gibson gives Chase a knowing look.

They stare at each other a moment before I get fed up.

Throwing my hands in the air, I answer his question. “We’re not ‘fucking’ as my mother put it.”

Gibson meets my gaze. “Are you the minor?”

“I’m seventeen. I will be eighteen in less than a month.”

Chase’s hand shoots out, gripping my forearm.

I hear Nate hiss from behind me, “Stop talking.”

Gibson sighs as the second officer steps in. “Seems something might be going on. Mind taking your hand off the minor, Mr. Rockford.”

Chase reluctantly releases my arm, glaring at the second officer. “Petra, still an asshole, I see.”

“Just because I can’t be bought like the rest of the officers here doesn’t make me an asshole. What I see in front of me is a twenty-year-old male sleeping with a minor. Seems like reason enough for an arrest, right, Gibson?”

I hear my mother chuckle.

I glare at the officer. “Funny. I’m not sleeping, are you Chase? He can see us sleeping together, yet I’m wide awake,” I say sarcastically.

Gibson tries to hide his smirk, but I catch it.

“I’m taking you in, Mr. Rockford,” Petra ignores my statement altogether.

Chase looks ready to go with him, but I step in. No way he’s going to jail for something not even true.

“Where’s your evidence?” I spit at Petra.

“I don’t need any for a seventy-two-hour hold. I’m sure I’ll find some by then. Besides, your interactions today are proof enough.”

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