Chapter Sixteen
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHE’D NEVER APPEARED so unprofessional in her career, and she couldn’t have cared less.
Talia barged into the police station wearing gray cotton sleep shorts, an oversized black hoodie, and flip-flops. Her hair was piled in a sloppy bun, and her face didn’t have a stitch of makeup. She had only her keys, wallet, and phone stuffed in her kangaroo pocket and enough blazing fury to burn the building to the ground.
A familiar face sat behind the front counter—Officer Blasetto, the annoying desk jockey who’d previously given her the runaround. Just what she needed—a misogynist cop to make this night worse.
Her flip-flops slapped against the linoleum as she marched over to the desk. “Excuse me,” she said when she arrived.
Blasetto wrenched his gaze from whatever had him riveted to his computer—probably another rousing game of solitaire or an Andrew Tate YouTube video.
“You again,” he said as his mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. “Always a pleasure.”
“Likewise.”
His eyes narrowed.
Direct ego hit.
“What can I do for you, Miss Attorney?”
“You can direct me to—”
The front entrance opened. “Get the fuck inside,” a deep, angry voice shouted.
Talia whirled. Her mouth dropped open as she witnessed Pulse being escorted into the station by a large officer with Newton on his nametag.
Pulse looked like shit. His cheek was scraped and bloody, his clothes were filthy and torn, and he held himself stiff as though walking pained him.
Her stomach plummeted. What had they done to him?
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Newton growled, yanking Pulse to a stop by his elbow.
Pulse snorted even as he winced. “Did I forget to mention it? I called her before I pulled off the highway.”
“Excuse me,” Talia asked, marching forward. “ She is his attorney, and she is here to be his legal counsel as is his constitutional right. I think the real question here is why the fuck does my client look like he’s had the shit beat out of him?”
“He resisted arrest,” Newton said with a smirk.
“Did he now?” She folded her arms over her chest. “Why am I finding that so hard to believe?” If it wouldn’t land her in cuffs right alongside Pulse, she’d smack the smirk right off Newton’s cocky mug.
“Don’t know.” His jowls shook as he nodded. “He put up a real nasty fight. Had no choice but to tase him.”
Her chest ached. They tased him? She swung her attention back to Pulse, whose face was a mask of controlled rage. She had to look away. Seeing him hurt and angry twisted her insides and brought forth complex emotions she couldn’t afford to show the cops.
“Take this into a fucking room,” Blasetto barked from the front desk. “For Christ’s sake, this is not the place for a scene.”
“Probably smart,” Talia announced, loud enough so anyone in the lobby would hear. “You don’t want everyone hearing about how you assaulted my client, and the hell I’m going to rain down on this department.” She stepped aside and gave Newton a sweet smile as she gestured for him to walk. “Please lead the way, Officer.”
When she was younger and would make a face in frustration, her mother would say, “Talia, I hope your face doesn’t freeze that way.” She could confidently say she hoped to hell Newton’s mug froze in that disgusted scowl.
Pulse winked and mouthed, “Dayum, that’s hot,” before Newton shoved him forward.
His ability to joke was encouraging, but she couldn’t get in the same head space yet. How was he not vibrating with fury the same way she was? With as much confidence and authority as she could manage in her flip-flops and loungewear, she marched after Newton while imagining strangling him.
The slap of her sandals mocked her with every step. Would these old-school boys’ club officers take her seriously without her professional attire? If she were smart, she would call Margo to take over. This became personal the moment Pulse put his hands—and mouth—on her. To be honest, it became personal long before that. She could no longer remain objective regarding him and probably everyone in his club. Hanging out with them had been a mistake. They’d crossed the line from clients to friends. How did she properly represent them when she couldn’t step back and view their case without bias?
But she hadn’t called Margo, and she wouldn’t. Instead, she’d flown out of bed in the middle of the night with nothing mattering beyond protecting Pulse.
She followed the officers and Pulse into an interrogation room where a sergeant stood waiting. The sergeant instructed Pulse to sit in the metal chair. Before he sat, Newton unlocked his cuffs. Talia only had a second to feel relief before they cuffed his hands to a metal ring on the table in front of him.
“Seriously?” she asked, going to his side. “Is this necessary?”
Newton grunted. “He resisted. Violently.”
“Bullshit. I followed every damn order you gave me. What a fucking joke.” Pulse shook his head.
“How exactly did he resist?” Her voice conveyed her disbelief.
“He got violent, like I said.”
Talia glanced at the sergeant, whose expression was one of someone who’d swallowed sour milk as he observed their interaction. “Funny, isn’t it, Officer Newton, that you and your partner don’t seem to have a mark on you? Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle in your uniform, not so much as a scratch, and yet Pulse looks like he’s been through some shit.”
Newton’s eyes narrowed.
That’s right, asshole. I don’t believe a word out of your lying mouth.
“We tased him before it got physical. It’s how we keep ourselves safe, miss.”
Oh, the miss had her hackles risking. Condescending jerk. But she didn’t let the annoyance show. She’d be damned if she let this guy know he got under her skin.
“I thought he was violently resisting. So, which is it? Was he violent with you, or did you tase him before he got violent? I’m just trying to get a clear picture.”
“He was lashing out, screaming obscenities, and making violent threats. We—”
“Lies.” Pulse’s cuffs rattle against the metal table. “All fucking lies.”
Talia rested her hand on his shoulder to quiet him. They needed to let this lying officer hang himself with his words.
“We tased him to protect ourselves. It was a lawful traffic stop, and he resisted. End of story.”
“Hmm. Pulse, could you explain to us what happened from your perspective?”
“Ma’am,” the sergeant broke in. “Please let us take the lead here.”
Ah, the pat on the head. Shh, little lady, wait your turn.
Pulse coughed, but it sounded like a poor attempt to cover a laugh. He understood she wouldn’t appreciate the sergeant silencing her. Pulse had no power in this situation as the one under arrest, but he still could have spoken up. He still could have told the sergeant he was out of line or demanded he speak to her respectfully. But he stayed quiet. Maybe some would find his silence to mean he didn’t have her back but viewed it the opposite way. It showed he valued her position and trusted her to handle the situation without backup. He respected her enough to try to assert himself in her domain. That meant more to her than any words he could have said in her support because handling misogynistic cops was her specialty.
She swung her gaze to the sergeant. “By all means,” she said in a syrupy voice. “The floor is yours.”
Talia sat in the chair next to Pulse. His leg bounced, tapping out an anxious rhythm with his boot. Beneath the table, she slid her hand to his thigh and gently pressed down. He stiffened for a beat but stopped fidgeting.
If it hadn’t seemed suspicious, she would have left her hand there for the duration of the interrogation to feel connected to him. But one of the cops would have noticed, making this experience worse for everyone.
“Mr. Vargas,” the sergeant said. “My officers pulled you over for going ninety-six in a sixty-five zone.”
Pulse barked an ugly laugh. “Bullshit. I was doing sixty-seven. I checked as soon as you lit me up.”
“Don’t worry.” Talia patted his arm. “This will all be on their dash cam recording. We’ll be able to verify every word they say.”
The sergeant continued as though they hadn’t spoken. “Once you were stopped, you became extremely resistant, forcing my officers to take drastic action to subdue and detain you.”
“Fucking lies.”
“What are the exact charges?” Talia asked.
“Speeding more than thirty miles over the speed limit, which is a traffic misdemeanor in Florida.”
“Thank you. I’m aware of traffic law,” Talia said. “What else, since I’m assuming there’s more.”
“Obstructing official business and resisting arrest with violence. You’ll be booked here tonight. Some federal agents would like to speak with you tomorrow and possibly transport you to DC. I am not aware of what the federal charges are or if there even are any. They are tight-lipped with their business. I just know they want you.”
A chill ran down her spine as she turned and met Pulse’s troubled gaze.
Nothing else mattered right then but getting him released as soon as possible. If she failed and he was allowed to be whisked away by the feds tomorrow, who knew when she’d see him again?
Probably never.
Something passed between her and Pulse, a nonverbal agreement to downplay anything related to the feds. They all knew the only reason he’d been pulled over in the first place was to hand him over to the government agents, but she couldn’t let these officers find out how terrifying that prospect was.
“So, what we have here is your officers claiming my client was speeding and violently resisting, and my client claiming that is a lie.”
“I’m sure you’re aware criminals lie all the time,” the sergeant said in a condescending tone.
Screw him. “I wasn’t finished speaking. The way I see it, this can be resolved in minutes. I’d like to see the body cam footage.”
Newton, who stood by the door, froze. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he again schooled his features.
Busted .
The sergeant didn’t have such an obvious tell, but even he shifted, and his gaze narrowed. “You know we do not have to produce that for you at this time.”
“But you have it, right? I mean, there were six officers on the scene. You should have an abundance of footage showing how aggressive my client was and how he forced your officer’s hand. How they had no choice but to tase him and, from the look of his clothes, kick him.”
She swallowed down the bile that crept up at the thought of him being kicked by boots while defenseless from the tasing.
The sergeant cleared his throat. “Ma’am, I don’t have to—”
“And, of course, there is dash cam footage documenting the extremely high rate of speed my client was traveling at. Well, gentlemen, it looks like there’s not much I can do with such strong evidence of my client’s unlawful behavior. I guess we’ll be seeing you in court. We can review the footage there.”
Newton mumbled something.
“I’m sorry. What was that?”
“There was an issue with the cameras.”
“There was?” She snapped. “Oh shoot. Well, lucky for you, five other officers were on the scene. Unless…” She placed a hand over her chest and gasped. “Wait, you’re not saying all the cameras had technical issues, are you? So, there’s not a single shred of evidence beyond the bruises and cuts on my client to show what happened tonight? Oh, no. What rotten luck.”
Pulse snickered while the sergeant compressed his lips and folded his arms across his broad chest as though his size and stature would intimidate her.
Please, she ate brutes like him for lunch.
“State your point, ma’am.”
“My point, gentlemen, is that you clearly think I’m stupid if you plan to convince me all the body cameras stopped working at the same time, the exact moment of my client’s arrest. More likely, your officers turned off their cameras because they didn’t want any record of the abuse against my client. If he is not released at once, I will be filing a motion for adverse inference as well as a dismissal of all charges with prejudice. In case you don’t know, it’s a motion for the judge to infer that since the camera footage is magically unavailable, it would show something unfavorable toward your side. From there, dismissal would be almost guaranteed. After that, I’ll be filing charges of unlawful arrest, assault, and infringement on my client’s civil rights. Now, since the feds have not provided you with any charges, you cannot hold him based on their request to speak to him. My card is in his file. The federal agents may call me to set up a time to meet with us when they arrive.”
No one spoke. The room filled with tension and rage, but finally from the cops instead of her or Pulse. She had them, and they knew it. They could push it and risk not only the case being tossed out but a lawsuit. One she’d be sure to win. Heads would roll if it went that far.
Ah, how she loved victory.
“Well, shit, boys, that’s gotta be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m feeling a whole lot better about this situation. How ‘bout you?” Pulse grinned up at the cops.
Talia’s face heated, but it had nothing on Newton’s. He’d turned an unhealthy shade of purple and practically vibrated in his boots. If he were a cartoon, smoke would be rising from his ears.
“Officer Newton, please remove Mr. Vargas’ handcuffs.” The sergeant spoke through clenched teeth as though it pained him to give the order.
Talia bit her lip to keep from smirking. Pulse, on the other hand, didn’t bother with restraint. He grinned as big as she’d ever seen him, taunting Newton and his sergeant.
The officer huffed and spluttered before he walked over, shaking his head. He unlocked the handcuffs with murder in his eyes.
“Mr. Vargas, you are free to go,” the sergeant said. If you do not answer when the federal agents call you tomorrow, tonight will seem like a fantasy compared to what will happen to you.”
“Threats, Sergeant? Really? I’m sitting right here.” Talia batted her eyelashes at the man.
“Ms. Davenport, it will be on you if he doesn’t take that call. And, no, these are not threats. Just a statement of fact.”
“Of course, Sergeant. My client will be a good boy and cooperate with the feds.”
There was no way in hell they’d be doing a damn thing the feds wanted which meant they needed to find a safe place to lay low for a while. But she could worry about that once they were out of there.
“We’ll see.” The sergeant glared for a few seconds, then stalked out of the room. “See them out, Newton,” he called over his shoulder as he left.
Pulse stood, rubbing his wrist. “Well, I’d like to say it’s been fun, but I think I’ll go with fuck you instead.” He rested his hand on Talia’s lower back and guided her out of the room before Newton could respond. Warmth seared through her sweatshirt to her skin.
They’d most likely turned off the camera in the room, and she didn’t want to stick around for a second more than they had to. Newton was pissed enough to do or say something stupid.
When he reached the hall, Pulse dropped his hand. An immediate and profound sense of loss pummeled her so hard she gasped.
Pulse shot her a concerned side-eye. She shook her head once.
Nothing, it was nothing—just a weird, fleeting sensation.
As they walked side by side toward the exit, the urge to take his hand had her curling her fingers into fists. She’d be a fool to show her cards to these cops. Besides, Pulse wasn’t her boyfriend or anything ridiculous like that.
Then why did she suddenly feel like she wanted to rip his clothes off and touch him? Just hold him, breathe him in, and have him assure her he wasn’t harmed. She rolled her shoulders and cleared her throat but couldn’t shake the impulse. Instead, it grew with each step.
God, she wanted to feel him and be touched so badly that her knees wobbled.
What was happening to her?
Adrenaline crash?
Maybe, but adrenaline crashes were a familiar sensation that never accompanied a powerful urge to be near another person.
A man.
Then again, nothing had made sense since she first met Pulse.