Page 49 of Stevie
“I ain’t your bud,” I grunt out. I’m not in the mood for this asshole. I’m starving, exhausted, and stressed the fuck out over Stevie. I’ve been in holding for a day? Two? I don’t fucking know. I can’t think straight. The woman I love is out there, and I don’t know if that fucker has found her and hurt her. I’m helpless, and I can’t save her.
“I’m the only fucking bud you got right now, Dawson,” Frank growls under his breath. I get the feeling he isn’t used to not having his ass kissed.
“I told you I ain’t talking until I know Stevie is and will remain unharmed.”
“And I told you she is fine,” he retorts.
“Well, call me crazy, but I’m going to require more proof than the word of California’s top defense attorney.” Frank shakes his head, letting out a chuckle.
“I am trying to find a way to get you out of this mess, and you’re focusing on seeing your girlfriend? Why not focus on getting the fuck out of here, and then you can see her?”
“Why are you so against me seeing her right now?” I raise a brow. Frank runs a hand through his thinning hair as he leans forward.
“You realize how fucked you are, right? No, don’t answer that. I’m going to assume you have enough brainpower to know. If I allow her to see you, you will blow any chance we have of you walking.” I lean back on the chair and shrug.
“Don’t see how that’s possible, being there is no chance of me walking until I see her.”
* * *
“Hi! You’ve reached Stevie! Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you!” I resist the urge I have to drive my fist into the phone before hanging it up and walking with the officer back to my cell. I take my spot on the bench and continue to stare at the same spot I’ve been staring at since I got here. Replaying the events of Vincent over and over again.
Attempted murder? I shot him in the hand. How is that attempted murder? Sure, I left him with Greyson, but I know he didn’t do anything.
If this is indeed an attempted murder, it means that Vincent is still alive. This makes an unsettling thought run through my head: What if the entire situation was staged with the sole purpose of trapping me within these walls so that he could get Stevie?
My heart stops as the helpless feeling consumes me once more. I can’t protect her. I can’t see her, can’t touch her. I can’t even get her or anyone on the fucking phone. No one will talk to me except for Frank, and Frank is the one person I don’t want to talk to until I know Stevie is okay.
Stevie
CHAPTER TWENTY
Staring out the window of Brooks’ Jeep, I try not to allow more tears to fall. It’s been two days, but it feels like two years. I glance over at Greyson, who is driving me and Baka to see Frank. Apparently, Brooks isn’t cooperating with Frank at all. Greyson said Frank can basically only get one thing out of him, and it’s that he wants to see me. It’s breaking my heart. I feel so much guilt over him being there because of me. I hate this.
So now, I’m going to Frank’s office and demanding he take me to see Brooks. He needs to do whatever is necessary to get him out of this whole thing. I stare at the yellow duck on his dash and feel my lip wobble.Stay strong, Stevie. He’s going to get out of this.
The three of us enter the luxurious, modern law office just as Frank is about to walk out.
“Mr. Franklin!” I call out, stopping the man. He turns and looks at me before shaking his head.
“You are not supposed to be out alone. How will I get him to talk to me if I can’t verify that you are safe at the house?” I point behind me.
“I have people with me.” Frank looks at Greyson and Baka before rolling his eyes.
“Let’s go to my office.”
The elevator ride is silent, as is the walk down the cold, sleek hallway to his surprisingly warm-looking office. Lots of dark wood, books, andis that a pothos?I stare at the plant. It’s a much smaller version than the massive one climbing up the tree at home, but it definitely looks like a pothos.
“Alright,” he sighs, sitting in his leather chair behind his desk. “What can I do for you?”
“Is that a Pothos?” I ask, surprising everyone, including myself.
“I don’t know,” he says slowly. “My niece is a plant person. She got me a bunch for my office before closing her shop. It’s the only one that’s survived. Is that what you want to talk about?”
“Stefa have nothing to say,” Baka speaks as she moves towards Frank’s desk. I look at Greyson, but he’s as confused as I am. “I am the one that shot Vincent. I shoot him, and I do it again. Now let the bear go.”
“Baka!” I cry out, running towards her. “I’m sorry, Frank, she doesn’t know–”
“Ah!” Baka yells and points her finger. “Stefa, I tell you to listen. You no listen, you go wait in the car.” She turns back to Frank. “Let him out.”
