Silla appeared on her other side, looking pale and worried as they walked into the bar.
Mac set her down at a table and barked out orders. Suddenly, she had a whiskey sitting in front of her on the table and a guy called One-Tooth was on one side, holding her hand and patting her back while Silla sat in front of her, talking non-stop.
The door opened and she jumped with a gasp, turning to see the Police Chief stepping into the room. Jerry wasn’t a bad guy, not that she knew him that well.
But he wasn’t really a fan of hers. Well, of her family.
And she couldn’t blame him. Her father had spent a number of nights in jail, sobering up or for being drunk and disorderly.
And then there was her brother . . .
Some of Jerry’s detectives and cops, though, were pure assholes.
Mac rushed over to him, talking with his hands moving through the air. Mac always grew more animated when he was upset.
Jerry glanced over at her, then nodded and spoke into his walkie-talkie.
She shuddered as he strode toward her. He was a fit man in his early fifties. He had a nice wife, good kids, his family was the opposite of hers.
Picture perfect.
Devi couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to live in a family like that. To never have to worry that your father was going to come home drunk and angry. Or end up naked and sleeping in the town square.
That had actually happened once.
“Ms. Dawson,” he said as he got closer.
She winced. She’d known him for several years, even if it wasn’t the best relationship, she’d thought he might have called her by her first name.
“Call me D-Devi,” she whispered.
Shit. Fuck.
Stupid stutter.
He sighed. “Devi. Tell me what happened.”
It wasn’t a question but a demand. And she couldn’t help but glance over at the door, wishing that Hayes would walk back through.
“It was a dick from out of town,” Silla blurted out.
“Yep. It was. Uh-huh,” One-tooth said, patting her hand.
Jerry glanced over at Mac. “Got somewhere private we can go?”
Mac gave her a concerned glance. “Yeah. Use my office. Why don’t you all back off and give Devi some space?”
One-Tooth backed off and Silla squeezed her hand before heading off. Mac then helped her stand and they moved to his office.
“I’ve g-got this,” she said, grimacing as she stuttered again.
No wonder Mac didn’t look convinced as he helped her sit on the old chesterfield sofa in his office. It had seen better days, the leather was cracked and worn and it sort of sagged in the middle. But it was comfortable and she was worn out.
“Sure you have.”
“Where is H-Hayes?” she asked.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Mac told her.