Page 15 of Maid of Dishonor
"Excuse me," someone clears their throat next to us. We both turn and see the same uniformed officer that arrested us earlier in the evening. “We need you to sit with one of our detectives, so you can give your statement of what happened.”
“Why can’t he do it?” I ask, pointing to the detective holding me in his arms.
Dean pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. “It’s going to be okay, babe. I’m going with you.”
I sink against him, feeling for the first time the ability to finally let go of the reins and trust that someone else is going to take care of me. It's been so long since I had that moment that I wasn't even sure I could find someone that would make me feel so safe.
Dean leads me over to the same patrol car we started our evening in and holds open the door for me.
“You’re chariot awaits, my lady.”
I step in and scoot over in the seat for him to get in with me.
It may not be a white horse or the sunset I imagined us riding off into, but somehow it seems fitting that a patrol car and the neon glow of the lights on the Strip will make an acceptable alternative for the pair of us.
