Page 156 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

FORGIVENESS & FIRE

Leah

Percy has to hold me upright like a sobbing widow, my body limp

and weak while the officer with a badge tries to explain the situation.

It’s useless, and I claw into Percy’s arm unintentionally, leaning over

the railing on the porch so I can clear my already empty gut into the

grass. He manages to keep an arm looped around my stomach while

also keeping my hair out of the way. I want to thank him, but I can’t

even get the words out right now.

“What is going to happen to him?” Percy bites, herding me back into

his side so he can try and calm me down. It doesn’t work well, but I

admire his effort. “Are they taking him to the hospital?”

The officer checks over his shoulder like an afterthought, fire trucks

littering my property with a single ambulance perched in my

driveway. They have Ryan wrapped in a fleece blanket, checking his

eyes with a flashlight I’d love to swat him over the head with. I don’t

get close enough to try, though, Percy keeping me corralled away

from him.

“Well, it looks like they’re just looking for a concussion at this point,”

the cop says, turning back to face us with his clipboard in hand. “He

did blow under the legal limit for driving intoxicated, though.”

Percy shakes his head. “But he was still drunk when he drove over

the embankment and hit her property, right?”

The office seems torn in his reply, so he takes his pen back in hand

and jots something down before handing Percy a business card. “If

you have any issues with the investigation, that’s my badge number,

the case number, and the attorney’s office you can call with any

questions.”

Percy takes this issue into his hands, and I’m so thankful for that.

“Wait, are you saying they aren’t going to press charges? He drove

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