Page 66 of Every Single Vow
Then officer Brandt steps back from the truck, a black backpack in hand. I don’t recall seeing it when I got in the truckbefore the races. When he unzips it, some of the contents spill out onto the ground.
Baggies.
“Fawn!” He shouts. “We need backup.”
He digs into the bag, removing a small scale.
“Mr. Sterling.” Officer Brant raises up, holding the white baggie in the air. “Is this your paraphernalia?”
“That shit ain’t mine!” He scoffs.
“Well, there’s plenty of eight balls ready to go in this bag.” He drops them back into the backpack. “They just magically appear in your back floor board?”
“It ain’t mine!” He roars. “You planted that shit!” Billy jerks, but Officer Fawn takes him to the ground, cuffing his hands behind his back.
“What’s your name ma’am?” Office Brandt asks.
“Dakota.” I swallow, not believing the scene in front of me. “What’s in the bag?”
“Looks to be cocaine.” He brings the backpack to his cruiser, speaking into the radio clipped to his shirt.
“Did he do that to your face?” He asks.
“Yeah.” I touch my cheek.
“This a reoccurring event?”
“Unfortunately.” I let my hand slide into my back pocket.
The urge to call Cooper is strong. Almost overwhelming. What if they think it was mine? That I helped him.
Panic takes root in my chest.
“I have to ask, is that bag yours?” He faces me.
“No. It’s not mine.” I shake my head.
Another cruiser pulls up, along with the sheriff. My gut churns, the thought that it could finally be the day my father drags me down with him.
“I just need confirmation.” He reaches out to gently touch my shoulder. “I know he’s assaulted you. I know he’s been drinking, and I know he was driving reckless.”
I blow out a breath before he continues.
“But I need to know if that’s his backpack. Have you seen it anywhere else? At your house? His work?”
I nibble on my lip, my pulse skyrocketing as I watch them lower Billy into a police car. They’re taking him away. Finally. But he always comes back.
I lock eyes with Officer Brandt and do what I should have done years ago. “It’s his.”
He dips his chin. “You have someone you can call?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s get you settled back here until your ride comes. He won’t be going home tonight or anytime soon.”
As I slide into the back of the police car, I shakily pull out my phone before pressing the contact at the top of my list.
He answers on the second ring.
