Page 60 of Pretty Stolen Dolls

“You suck at your job.”

I leave her open-mouthed.

I’ve had enough of her for one day.

MY CELL PHONE CONTINUES TOlight up with Dillon’s name, but I can’t bring myself to answer it. I discharged myself from the hospital and have been curled up on my couch ignoring his calls. Nothing makes sense. I feel as though I’m sleepwalking through a nightmare and can’t find a way to wake the hell up.

Ding.

I lift my head to see a text from Dillon, but I don’t read it.

“So, youarealive and youaregetting my calls.” His baritone booms through my apartment, startling me. “You’re just choosing to ignore me.”

“Uh,” I groan. “Ouch.” My rib throbs in pain.

He stalks over to me and drops to his knees beside the couch. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Dark brown eyebrows furl together as he assesses me for damage. When he reaches out to stroke at my hair, I swat him away.

“What the hell are you doing in here, Dillon. How did you get in?”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a key. My key. “You gave it to me when I went for beer the other night.”

Crap, I did do that.

“Well, this isn’t the other night and it was a one-time only use,” I snap, snatching it from his grasp. The movement makes me wince when my rib throbs again.

“I won’t let you shut me out and yourself in, Jade. I won’t do it.”

“Leave me alone, Dillon.”

“Right. Well, if you’re going to be a brat, then we can do this the hard way.” He grabs at some of my discarded clothes slung on a chair. “Get dressed. You can’t leave the house like that.”

I skim my gaze over my black panties, the bandage around my ribs, and a cut-off Pink Floyd tee.

“You look like an eighties cardio instructor.” He smirks, and it’s annoyingly cute.

“Why do I need to be dressed?” I whine, already feeling defeated. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Phillips, get your fucking clothes on and then down to my car. I have to take you in to see the chief.”

This gets my attention and I sit up a little too quickly, causing pain to rip down my side. Oh God, he’s going to fire me, or arrest me, or commit me. They can’t possibly believe the asshole who said I almost beat him to death.

“Did the guy make it?”

Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair and dark circles that weren’t there before are beginning to form under his eyes. He looks tired. This is what I do. I’m like a poison, polluting the people I care about.

“He’s still critical, but he’s going to make it. Get dressed and meet me downstairs in five.”

I can’t stop the bouncing of my knee. I’m nervous and don’t want to be here. Everyone stalked me with their eyes across the precinct once I arrived. Holding my hands up and asking if they wanted to take a picture so it would last longer didn’t go down well either. Now Dillon is glaring at me from a seat three feet from my own.

“Stop fucking bouncing your leg, Jade.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and I fight the smile wanting to lift my lips. I like when he calls me Jade. His tough love and silent treatment I got the entire ride over here didn’t last.

The office door slams shut and Chief Stanton walks past us. Once behind his desk, he drops his ass into the chair and plonks a folder on the desk before shoving it toward me.

“What’s this?”

“Medical report on Adam Maine.”

I grab the file and see the picture of the asshole from the flea market.

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