Chapter Fifteen
Cal
H ating her is impossible.
Fucking with her, though, is satisfying.
As I start my truck, I glance over at Charlotte. I can’t believe I kissed her. This girl is confusing the hell out of me. It’d be smart to distance myself from her, but I can’t. Something about her draws me in. I can’t even talk to anyone about it. I’d talk to T, but he’s in a coma because of her. Roan is out of the question since she’s his sister-in-law and might act like a caveman if I tell him I want to do terrible, filthy things to her. That leaves Jordy, but he’s so far up Roux’s ass lately, I don’t know if that’s smart either.
Looks like I have to navigate this all on my own.
I tear out of the hospital parking lot, eager to put some distance between me and reality. Knowing T is back there, barely kept alive, injects so much anger into my soul. I bleed rage. Gnash my teeth at the injustice of it all. The farther I get away from him, the more my shoulders relax, which only piles on the guilt. I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do.
Charlotte squeaks when I gun the engine, roaring past a few slow drivers. As she holds on for dear life, my mind drifts back to Ryan. It felt good to make him bleed. The asshole deserves that and so much more. In that moment, I’d had the urge to cut his dick right off. I would’ve wound my ass in prison being butt buddies with Roan’s dad, Jace, but it’d been worth it. To watch Ryan bleed out, dickless.
I did it because of her.
Everything Jordy’s done for Roux becomes crystal clear. An understanding trickles through me. I may not like that Charlotte has me under her spell, but it doesn’t change the fact that she does. I do want to punish her. Not beat her. I want to strip her down and make her beg. I want to tease her until she screams. When she cries, it’ll be because she needs more, not because she wants me to stop. And knowing that Ryan tried to rape my fucking girl does things to me. It wrapped its possessive claws around my heart and drove me to cut a warning into that fucker’s dick. If he so much as dares to look at her, I will finish the goddamn job.
I’m flying through town, my thoughts growing darker by the second, when I hear a siren followed by flashing red and blue lights.
“Great,” I grumble as I slow my truck down and put on my blinker.
“I hate to say it,” Charlotte mutters, “but you’re an even worse driver than Penny.”
She’s joking with me, but I don’t miss the way she tenses. How her eyes keep drifting to the side mirror as she wrings her hands together. Her unease transforms my irritation of being pulled over into concern.
“You okay?” I ask, once I’ve parked. “It’ll just be a ticket and then I’ll get you home.”
Glancing over at me, she gnaws on her plump bottom pink lip and nods. I want to unbuckle her seat belt and drag her over to me. To tuck her under my arm and hold her close. I don’t know what the hell it is about Charlotte English that makes me so insane.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I jerk my head toward the window. Officer Winslow has his knuckle raised, ready to hit the glass again, so I mash the button to roll it down.
“Winslow, my man,” I deadpan. “I’ve missed you.”
He doesn’t take the bait. “License and registration, Hutton.”
I flip down my visor and grab the paperwork and then fish my ID out of my wallet.
“Who’s the girl?” he asks, his eyes glued to my driver’s license.
“My date.”
“What’s your date’s name?”
“Not relevant, man. Just give me the damn ticket,” I growl.
He looks past me at Charlotte. “Girl, what’s your name?”
“Ch-Charlotte.”
“Charlotte what?” he demands.
“Dude, back off. She’s not in trouble here. I am.” I lean toward him through the window, forcing him to take a step back. “Write the fucking ticket.”
Winslow rests his hand on his gun. “Last name, Charlotte.”
“English,” she croaks out.
“Hmph,” he says before walking back to his cruiser.
I reach across the seat, taking her hand in mine. The urge to comfort her is overwhelming. With a quick squeeze, I try to assure her it’ll be fine.
“The cops in this town hate me.” I shrug. “They hate my dad too.”
“Why?”
“Because we don’t give a fuck.” A chuckle escapes me. “My dad would have been a Hornet in his day.”
“The cops hate me too,” she murmurs. “Well, one in particular.”
“Because of Trey?”
“Ryan.” She swallows, fear glinting in her blue eyes. “I keep waiting for it all to catch up to me. I filled out a police report and filed a restraining order. That has to be embarrassing for Michael.”
“His kid shouldn’t be such a douchebag then.”
I flit my eyes up to the rearview mirror to see what’s taking so long. There’s another cruiser behind Winslow’s. My stomach twists painfully. I bite back a curse so as not to alarm Charlotte.
Winslow and another officer approach my truck. Apprehension claws at me. If it were just me, I’d lash into these pigs, but it’s not just me. I have Charlotte to think about.
“Let me do the talking,” I say to her, pinning her with a firm stare. “Please.”
Winslow clears his throat when he makes it back to my window. “Hutton, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”
“Why?” I demand, my temper flaring to unhealthy degrees. “I was speeding.”
“I just want to talk to you,” Winslow snaps. “And I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your little girlfriend.”
“Whatever you have to say to me, Charlotte can hear—” I start, but I’m cut off when she screeches.
Whipping my head toward her, I find Officer Cuntingham wrenching the door open and glowering at her, waves of intimidation rolling off him.
“Back the fuck off,” I bark out at him. “You have no business talking to her.”
“Out of the car, Hutton,” Winslow barks as he opens my door.
Everything is happening too quickly. I can’t form thoughts. Only panic. I’m seized with the need to protect her at all costs.
“Miss English, get out of the car,” Cuntingham bellows, making her flinch.
Fuck.
“Dude, call another goddamn officer here because it’s a conflict of fucking interest to even be talking to her,” I snap at Cuntingham.
His hate-filled eyes meet mine as he grabs her wrist and unbuckles her seat belt. She screams, reaching for me. My hand snags hers, but Winslow’s brute ass is already yanking me out of the truck. I try to hold on to her, but we’re torn apart.
I fucking lose it.
Twisting around, I swing at this asshole. He’s anticipating my hit because he dodges it and then body slams me to the ground. The gravel from the asphalt digs painfully into my chin as he presses a knee to my back, handcuffing me.
Charlotte shrieks again.
I turn my head, looking for her under the truck. On the other side, I can see their legs. Cuntingham stands too close to her. I can’t hear what he’s saying or see what he’s doing, but I don’t trust that asshole one bit.
Winslow kneels beside me. “You’re in deep shit, kid.”
“For fucking speeding?” I roar. “Get off your high horse, Winslow, and write me a goddamn ticket already.”
“Nah, man,” he mutters. “You know what you did. Assaulting my buddy’s kid.”
I wonder if Ryan told his daddy I carved my name in his dick.
I can’t help but smirk knowing his dick burns like a bitch.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I do suggest you read me my rights and take me to the fucking station if that’s your intent. Otherwise, handcuffing me for no reason is illegal.”
Winslow puffs out an irritated breath. “Shut up.”
I do shut up, though, when I hear Charlotte whimper. What the fuck is he saying to her? When Winslow relaxes his guard, I launch myself to my feet, pushing past him to round the vehicle.
Red.
I see red.
A rage-filled growl bursts out of me as I charge at this fucker. He has her pressed against the side of my truck, his hand on her throat as he snarls at her, his nose practically touching hers. She’s trembling in fear. I slam my shoulder into his, sending him sailing. Winslow already has my bicep, dragging me back before I can reach her.
Her teary eyes meet mine, pleading for help. This girl is terrified, and I can’t do shit because my hands are cuffed.
I start running my mouth, hoping like fuck it works.
“Winslow, do you want to lose your job?” I grind out. “He can’t talk to her because she’s filed a restraining order against his son. He’s clearly trying to intimidate her. You might get away with it right now, but I can guarantee her fucking dad isn’t going to be okay with this. Let him come get her and you can do whatever shit you want to me. Leave her out of it.”
“Shut up,” Cuntingham snaps.
“Michael.” Winslow’s voice is unsure. “That true?”
Cuntingham doesn’t look at him, just glares at me with hatred in his eyes.
“English,” I bark out. “Call your dad. Now.”
She pulls her phone from her pocket and dials. The policemen don’t stop her, which goes to show they know they’re fucking with the wrong man.
“Put it on speaker,” I command.
“Hey, princess—”
“Cal Hutton here. Char and I are being detained by Michael Cunningham.” I rattle off the location. “She needs you now.”
“I’m on my way,” Garrett growls. “Cunningham, can you hear me?”
Silence.
“I want you at least thirty feet away from my fucking daughter,” Garrett snaps. “My next call is to Fred. Then, my attorney. Tread carefully, motherfucker.”
Cuntingham curses. “I’ll take Hutton. You keep an eye on the girl.”
Winslow releases me to hand me off to Cuntingham. Roughly, he ushers me to the second cruiser. Rather than shoving me in the back seat, he pushes me to my knees.
“I don’t know what kind of shit you’re wrapping yourself up in with that bitch, but you’ve made the wrong fucking move, Hutton,” Cuntingham hisses. He squats right in front of me, grabbing my jaw. “She made some heinous fucking allegations against my son. Allegations that will haunt him for the rest of his life. I won’t allow it.”
“Your son is a piece of shit just like you.” I spit in his face. “Whatever she claimed happened did and you know it.”
He swipes off the saliva with the back of his hand. “Justice is always served. I see to that.”
“I think they call this sadism, not justice, dickhead. You and your son are mean sons of bitches. You don’t deserve that badge. And if you keep pushing, I’m going to push right back. Do not fucking test me.”
Rage burns hot in his eyes. “Are you threatening me?”
“You better fucking believe it I am.”
“Why are you into the bitch? She almost killed your best friend. Where’s your loyalty?”
“Char’s a Hornet,” I tell him through clenched teeth. “We protect our own.”
A vein bulges in his forehead. “That little girl isn’t a has-been loser like you and your friends. She’s a lying bitch who wants to ruin my son. Eventually she’ll try to ruin you too. She already did with Trey.”
If he were close enough, I’d headbutt the shit out of him.
“You must be fucking her,” he says, scowling. “She sure moved on from Ryan quickly. Is that why you assaulted my son?”
“Assault? I call it a good old-fashioned Hornet warning.” I grin at him. “Does it hurt when he pisses?”
A line forms between his brows. Confusion.
“Ask him about his little pecker, Daddy,” I taunt. “Maybe that’s the reason Charlotte’s with me and not him. Because his tiny dick doesn’t do shit for her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Hutton,” Cuntingham barks.
“When I make her scream, it’s because she likes it. Because my dick destroys her in the best possible way. Your son came up short. I wonder if that sort of thing is genetic.”
I love that his face turns purple like it might explode.
“Ask Ryan about his dick,” I urge, a maniacal grin on my face. “I bet he wishes his dick were like mine. Probably even named that poor little worm Cal.” I shrug. “I mean, can you blame him?”
Cuntingham kicks me hard in the stomach, knocking the air out of me and sending me rolling. Between sucking in air, I howl in laughter. Ryan is going to flip his shit when his dad asks him about his dick. They’re both too proud to put that in any police report. They’ll just try to get even their way. Dirty and beneath the radar. Unlucky for them, I’m a motherfucking Hornet and that’s the only way I play.