Page 24 of Never Trust the Living (Battle Crows MC 7)

It came out high-pitched and scared, but they didn’t know that I wasn’t scared for the reason they thought.

“The officers that were watching over him said he’s missing,” he answered. “We thought we would check here to see if he’s been by.”

I swallowed hard. “If he were here, I’d be dead right now.”

And I fully believed that.

Because I would’ve fought, and hard. He probably would’ve accidentally killed me this time, like he’d almost done a hundred times before.

His eyes narrowed. “You were never his target, from what I understand.”

That’s when I started laughing.

I laughed so hard that Bram’s hand at my hip squeezed a little bit too hard.

“You’re joking, right?” I said. “Because you’re fucking clueless.”

The detective didn’t like hearing that.

I lifted up my shirt and showed him a stab wound.

“This wound right here was from when my brother thought it would be interesting to see what would happen if he deflated my lung,” I said. “They had to reinflate it in the emergency room.”

The officer’s eyes took that spot in, and I moved to a new one. “This one is from when he wanted to see what my skin would smell like if he pressed a car cigarette lighter to it.”

The officer frowned.

“So let’s just say, I more than know who his victims usually are,” I snapped. “I haven’t seen him.”

The officer looked from me to Bram.

“Have you?”

I felt more than saw Bram shake his head.

“No,” he answered. “Been here all night. Haven’t seen him.”

That was a joke if I’d ever heard one.

Even I hadn’t been here all night.

But whatever worked.

We would obviously be each other’s alibis.

“What’s going on here?” he asked. “I thought you were with someone.”

The suspiciousness in his tone set me on edge.

“If you can’t figure out what I’m doing here, then obviously you have shit detective skills,” Bram grumbled.

“Pretty shitty of you, isn’t it?” he asked. “Your girl was broken up over your disappearance.”

Bram sighed. “I think you have no clue what’s going on with my relationship, nor do you really have any rights to what’s going on with it. If you’re interested in arresting me, I’ll be morethan happy to answer whatever questions you have. But if you’re not, then I think it’s time to leave.”

The detective’s mouth thinned in a line, and I could tell he didn’t like being dismissed.

Needless to say, when he walked away, I wanted nothing more than to retreat back under my bedspread.

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