26. Grand Gesture #2
My nostrils flare as I try and hide my amusement. As a senator’s son I’m no stranger to people wanting things from me. But a military man wanting to use my in with a romance novelist to score points with the wife? That’s new. “Yeah, man. I’ll get you one.” I force my expression to remain blank.
“Nice.” The plane touches down on the tarmac and he sits up. “Maybe that will stop her from signing me up for couples yoga.”
The pleased expression on his face when he gives me his contact information is probably nothing compared to how I feel when I finally exit the plane. I’m out. I’m here. I made it.
I’m this much closer to Trish.
Pulling out my phone and turning it on, I call Holt. “Tell me good news.”
Trish
“Good news, Miss La Rue.” Officer Lydia’s keys and cuffs jangle together off her uniform’s belt as she appears in front of my cell. “It’s time to go.”
Rose left a while ago. The police officer who came to collect her said something about not being able to hold her any longer. Before leaving, Rose promised to light a fire under her lawyer’s ass and left her button-down shirt with me, totally not caring that she walked out of jail in her bra.
Thankfully, she wasn’t arrested for indecent exposure again.
I’ve been sitting with my legs drawn up under me on the bench and the lightweight button-down wrapped around me like a blanket since she left. Without a phone or watch, I’m not sure how much time has passed. But I didn’t think it was long enough to get an extradition organized.
Whether from cold or fear, I feel numb as I stand, my goose-pimpled flesh shaky. “Okay.”
The woman officer throws me a quizzical look as she inserts the cell door’s key. “That’s an odd expression for someone leaving jail.” The bars slide open with a bang.
I step out, raising my arms for her to cuff. “I’m only trading one jail for another in Georgia.”
Instead of unhooking the cuffs from her belt and snapping them over my wrists, like I thought she would, Officer Lydia’s hand clamps down on my shoulder and she steers me down the hall.
“Rose mentioned you were a writer, but I didn’t think anyone could be more dramatic than that Barbie doll.
” She sounds disgusted, but her lips are tilted in a smile.
I stumble slightly, my legs stiff from sitting for so long. “What do you mean?”
She steadies me and helps me the rest of the way down the hall. “You’re not being extradited.” She opens the door, where a familiar gentleman in a suit stands next to Rose, now wearing an LCPD T-shirt. “The warrant against you was revoked. You’re free to go.”
I stop, her words not computing. “I’m… free?”
“T.D.!” Rose bounds over, leftover body glitter catching the morning light. “You ready to go?”
Still, I don’t move.
“T.D.?” Rose grabs my arm and shuffles me into the room. “Are you in shock? You don’t seem to understand that we can go.”
Confused, scared, and cold, I can’t help but snap, “Then would you be so kind as to explain how that’s possible?”
Rose blinks. “Ah, yeah, sure.” She looks over her shoulder to her lawyer. “Give us a sec, will you?”
He heaves a long-suffering sigh. “I’ll just finish up the paperwork while you ladies talk.” He heads over to Officer Lydia, now standing behind a desk with a small stack of papers.
It dawns on me where I know him from. He’s the guy who came when Rose was arrested at Boondoggles a few weeks ago.
“Your lawyer got me out of jail? What about the felony charges?”
Rose nods, leading me over to a sitting area. “My lawyers handled the paperwork, sure, but Ian got you out of jail.”
I sit. Thankfully, there’s a hard wooden chair behind me when I do. “Ian?”
Rose sits next to me. “Yep. He even took care of the felony charge. Had the warrant revoked.”
“But... when…” I press my palm into my eyes, hoping to wake up my brain. “ How is that possible?”
She shrugs. “Not sure. All I know was that he was in Georgia when you were arrested, and he took the first flight out.”
“Flight?” My voice cracks.
“Yeah, and now he’s yelling at some other lawyer named Mitchell about taking too long and how many zeros he’s adding to the lawsuit.” She tilts her head, sending more body glitter drifting down to her black T-shirt. “Though even I don’t understand that bit.”
I thought I was cold before, but apparently that was nothing to the ice now clawing through my veins.
“Dude.” Rose leans forward, scanning my expression.
“You don’t look so good, T.D. And that’s taking into account you just spent the night in jail.
” Rose wraps an arm around me and hugs me.
“You and Ian both. I’ve never seen Ian look less Captain-America-y than he does right now.
” Another shrug. “But I guess that’s what a red-eye flight will do to you. ”
“Where is she?” Rose and I turn to see the disheveled Captain America storming inside, glaring at Rose’s lawyer. “What’s taking so long?”
Looking at him, with his greasy blond hair sticking off in different directions, his beard heavier than I’ve ever seen it, and his gray T-shirt wrinkled and sweat-stained, all the emotions I’ve been repressing since the arrest, heck, since I started running from the law all those years ago, come rushing to the surface. “Ian?” I stand.
He whips his head in my direction.
“Ian?” I repeat, all other words failing me.
Wordlessly he rushes over, pulling me in tight again his body.
He stinks. It smells great.
“I got here as soon as I could.” He pulls back, his hands moving up to cradle my face, searching my eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I—” My voice cracks once more, as well as the rest of me.
Ian hugs me tight against as hard, long sobs wrack my body. Until my body goes limp and he scoops me up in his arms.
Through my sobs I hear Rose tell Ian she’s taking me back to the ranch and Ian’s less than polite refusal.
My body rocks against Ian as he stalks out of the building, the lawyer complaining loudly about paperwork.
I feel the morning light on my skin and hear Holt’s voice telling Ian he’ll drive us, and all the while my tears keep coming.
I don’t look up or talk for the entire ride, though the body-shaking sobs do subside. Ian continues to keep me tucked in his arms in the back seat of Holt’s truck. Carries me into his house. Up the stairs.
Continues to hold me while he runs a hot shower, the heat feeling so good against my skin as he washes us. The tears fall again.
He holds me through that too.
And when we’re finally in bed, cleaned of travel and jail and cuddled under layers of blankets, my heart finally settles into a steady rhythm, my limbs soften, and my muscles relax.
I’m home.