Page 111 of Famous Last Words
My heart races as sweat beads the back of my neck. “You fucking framed me, you dog!”
He just stares at me, chin held arrogantly high.
“Robbie Mason, you’re under arrest…” The second cop cuffs my wrists as he reads me my rights.
“It’s not mine, I—” Wincing at the pull in my shoulder, I look into the car to find Fran watching with eyes wide and full of fear, her jaw gaping. “Keller, I swear to fucking God, it’s not mine. Please… please, baby, please call Andy.”
CHAPTER 43
FRAN
As I pace the waiting area, chewing on my nails, it occurs to me that I’ve never been inside a police station before.This feels like a big deal.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, my eyes meet with those of the strung-out woman sitting cuffed on one of the plastic chairs, and she hisses at me.Hisses. Like an actual snake. I quickly avert my gaze to the floor because I really don’t want her to start yelling at me again. When I first ran into the station, she started screaming at me while I waited at the front desk. I thought she was screaming at someone else. But then I realized there was no one else around. She started ranting, telling me I owed her fifty bucks despite the fact that I have never seen this woman before in my life. She quickly piped down when one of the officers came out and threatened to chuck her in the drunk tank. Why she isn’t already in there is beyond me.
Racking my brain, I’m not entirely sure what else I can do. I’ve never been in this situation before. I can’t help but feel like I’m not doing enough. Robbie is here, somewhere, and all I can do is watch the stairs and hope that Andy gets here soon because it seems I’m useless in a crisis.
“Fran!”
I spin around, relieved to see Andy hurrying up the stairs. And I swear, it’s like finding your mom after being lost in JCPenney as a kid.
“Are you okay?” He wraps an arm around me, concerned gaze flitting all about.
“Yeah, I’m fine. But no one will tell me where he is and—” I bite down on my bottom lip, considering my words. “There’s a video online.”
Andy’s eyes flare, brows knitting together as he processes what I’ve just told him. He unlocks his phone and taps something into it, the device suddenly coming to life with the shaky cell phone footage of Robbie launching at Tadd’s friend in the bar, tossing down onto the table.
Andy throws his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes a moment before looking at me and lowering his voice. “What happened?”
I explain how Tadd’s friend touched me and how Robbie saw what happened and lost his cool.
Andy leans in closer. “And the drugs?”
I shake my head, at a loss. “They were in Robbie’s coat pocket. I don’t know, he didn’t—” I stop, remembering back to when Robbie was kissing me by his car, how different he’d acted. He was persistent and cocky and kind of an asshole. And when he was speeding up West Street, I asked him to slow down, pleaded with him to stop so I could at least get out of the damn car. But it was like he was a different person. His face didn’t even look the same.
“Fran?” Andy presses, arching a brow. “You need to be honest with me.”
I rake my teeth over my bottom lip, hesitating. I know I need to tell him the truth; it’s in Robbie’s best interest. “He was acting really strange. I’ve never seen him like that.”
With a heavy exhale, Andy drags a hand down over his face, looking at his phone.
“You Andy Hoffman?”
Andy and I swing around to find an unimpressed looking police officer standing in the open security door, a file in one hand and a cardboard coffee cup in the other.
“Yes,” Andy steps forward, “Andy Hoffman. Robbie Mason’s manager. His lawyer is on his way.”
I step forward too, paling in comparison because what the hell am I supposed to say? I’m Robbie Mason’s sort of fake, sort of real girlfriend? I almost roll my eyes at myself.
Thankfully Andy speaks for me, touching my shoulder. “This is Robbie’s girlfriend.” He glances at me. “Fran Keller.”
The cop holds the file up in the air in lieu of his hand. He waves the folder at me before nodding at Andy. “Only you.”
My shoulders sag in defeat once more.
“Why don’t you go home?” Andy suggests softly. “It’s late. And by the time Raymond gets here…” he trails off and shrugs.
“I’m staying,” I insist. “I’m not leaving him.”
