28. Tom
TWENTY-EIGHT
Tom
I hear my name screamed from a distance, and Officer Peters mutters, “What the hell?” peering with disbelief into his rearview mirror.
I spin my body, handcuffs tightening against my twisting wrist-bones, and my eyes widen. Zoe is driving my Jeep like she’s in an action film. Swerving around cars. Momentarily riding atop the middle barrier. Careening off it before she smashes two plants the city put there for beautification. She yelps like she almost just hit two people.
Officer Walters rolls down his window and we hear more clearly her hollering, “Tom! Officers! Stop! It’s me! Zoe Cocker!”
He mutters to his partner, “Does she think because she’s Wyatt’s sister that we won’t ticket her for reckless driving?”
“Looks like it.” Peters rolls his eyes.
Dying to know what she has to say, I venture, “We’re stopping, right?”
Peters peers into the mirror again. “No way.”
Walters asks, “What?”
“Wyatt Cocker is chasing her down now.”
Walters and I twist in our seats and discover another police car, blue lights and sirens blazing, speeding up to her side. Sure enough, the face behind the wheel is Zoe’s brother.
Peters starts laughing.
Walters joins in.
Not me. I instead repeat, “We’re pulling over, right?”
Walters chuckles, “Oh, we gotta pull over as fast as fucking possible.”
Peters adds, “We gotta see this!” and hits his right turn signal, with his partner motioning to cars we pass, gesturing to them that they need to slow down so we can park. Everyone accommodates them except for a silver corvette that pulls ahead, and zips to freedom since these guys are clearly too occupied to care about how fast he’s going. “Dick,” Peters mutters.
“I got the license plate,” Walters chuckles. “We’ll show up at his castle later and give him a warm welcome.”
They both laugh, leading me to wonder where these two got their disdain for wealth privilege. I bet there’s a story.
I turn to watch Zoe taking the cue, pulling the steering wheel right, with Wyatt slowing to get behind my Jeep. Traffic makes way for the three vehicles and we park in the order we’re in, two police cars with my Jeep sandwiched between them, the girl of my dreams looking the opposite of scared.
She shouts, “Tom! I’m coming!” and jumps out, staying close to the Jeep’s driver’s side as cars slowly pass by her, everyone’s curiosity trained on us.
Wyatt Cocker leaps out of his patrol car, leaves the lights on — I’m assuming from distraction — and runs after her. She darts a glance back as her brother yells her name, but rather than slowing down she speeds up!
I break into an incredulous frown as I see her racing toward the cop car, muttering under my breath. “Do you want to join me in jail, Boss?”
Officers Peters and Walters have already swung open their doors, rising out of the car with dignified authority, Walters on the passenger side cocking his head and chewing on his bottom lip in concentration. Are they going to let me out, or do I have to watch the whole thing hindered by the windows from this backseat cage?
“Cocker,” Peters says to Wyatt but Zoe mistakes his greeting for her.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get your name! I need to get to Tom!”
What does she want to say? I’m dying to know!
Wyatt snatches her off the asphalt mid-run since she’s so much smaller than he is. The guy is jacked, and he’s at least six foot. She’s only 5’4”. I know this because I’m an inch or so taller than Wyatt and I’ve wanted to snatch her into my arms more times that I can count.
He demands with a concern that’s both loving and urgent, “Zoe, what do you think you’re doing?!”
“Wyatt! Please make them let Tom go!”
“Ms. Cocker, I’m afraid that’s not possible unless Mr. Astor drops all charges.”
She’s hanging like a rag doll in his arms as Wyatt asks, “Mr. Astor? You mean your fiancé is behind this?”
“They’re talking about his Dad.”
“I’m confused.”
“Caleb’s father walked in right when Tom punched him!”
Wyatt frowns, “Tom punched Caleb’s father?”
“No!” Zoe cries out, kicking her legs. “Tom punched Caleb!”
Through the rear window Wyatt locks eyes with me, and bursts out laughing. “Good!”
“Good?” Peters says, and I look at the officer to find he’s smirking as he asks, “Why is that good? I mean, the guy seemed like an entitled prick but I want to know more.”
Wyatt sets down Zoe, who looks surprised at his reaction. He takes her beautiful face in his hands, leans close and says, “We did some digging on your fiancé. Ever look him up on the internet?”
She frowns, “No.”
“You’re missing out.” Straightening up, Wyatt addresses Peters and Walters, “The guy’s not good enough for my sister. It’s over.”
“What do you mean?” Zoe asks.
He ruffles her hair like a child. “You’re not marrying Caleb Astor III.”