Page 61 of Bulletproof
Derek laughed at his crazy instigator of a friend and lover. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Come on. Let’s just take off.”
“Stop. Seriously, when the fuck did I become the responsible one in this relationship?”
The cop banged on the window with the end of his flashlight, then shined the light throughthe glass.
“We’ll be right out,” Derek answered.
“You’re no fun.” Travis pouted.
Derek pulled his lover close. “I’m a lot of fun, but I don’t want to show you how much fun in a jail cell.”
The cops had chased away most of the fans, but some were still lingering, gobbling up the police interaction and making their displeasure known. Cell phone still pointed in their direction, livestreaming or capturing everything to post on social media before the nightended.
Before they stepped off the bus, Derek gave Travis a warning. “Don’t say anything. Let me handle it.”
“I’ve dealt with the police before.” Travis brandished an impish grin. “Have you?”
This guy loved to stir the pot. “Travis . . .”
“Fine.” Travis let out a dramatic sigh. “I won’t say anything.”
Derek addressed the police officersthe moment he stepped off the bus. “I’m Derek MacAlister. This is my band’s tour bus. We just went out for a bite to eat and met some fans. We only played one song. We’re done now. We’re going home.”
“You’re not going anywhere, sir.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe they want us to play another song.” Travis displayed a cocky smirk and folded his arms across his chest.
“Shut. Up.” Derek nudged Travis with his elbow. The guy had a rebellion for authority, which was sexy as fucking hell, but it was about to get them locked up.
“Do either of you have a license to drive a bus?” the cop asked. “If not, you’re driving out of class. In addition, you’re facing charges for disturbing the peace and performing without a permit.”
Holyfuck. “Come on, officer. Give us a break. We weren’t hurting anyone,” Derek pleaded.
“Just because you’re a famous rock star doesn’t mean you get a free pass and can break the law. Identification, please.”
This was bullshit. Derek silently swore to himself, but produced his wallet and handed his driver’s license to the officer with respect. Travis wasn’t cooperating though,so Derek elbowed him.
“What? I’m not driving the bus.”
“Identification,” the cop barked.
Travis sneered and narrowed his eyes, but handed over his license.
When the two police officers went back to the cruiser to run their driver’s licenses, Travis leaned closer to Derek. “It’s not too late to make a break for it.”
“Shh.” Derek triednot to laugh. “We’re in major shit.”
“This ain’t nothing.” Travis clucked his tongue, folded his arms again, and shifted his gaze somewhere in the distance, bored.
The officers returned and handed them back their licenses. “I’ll let you go on the noise complaint and performing without a permit, but you’re not going anywhere without a proper license to operate this vehicle,so we’re impounding it.”
“What? Wait a minute!” Derek shrieked, filled with panic. “No! You can’t impound this bus.” Felix would have a God damn coronary if the bus got confiscated and it delayed tomorrow night’s show. “Let me call my manager. He’ll have our bus driver here in 20 minutes.”
“I don’t have 20 minutes to hang around and wait for someone who may or may notshow up,” the cop said, annoyance clear in his voice.
