RAIN
Chapter thirty-three
This asshole needs to release my neck before I scratch up his face with my new bracelets. I’m perfectly capable of walking myself wherever instructed, but this dinosaur seems to have a personal vendetta against the skin of my neck.
He stops me before a desk, where another officer slurps from a mug before placing it aside. I slowly drift my gaze to the clock behind him, mentally taking note of the time while wriggling my nose to rid it of the stale smell.
“Name?” he demands.
I drop my gaze back to him. “Rain Asher Weston.”
Either he’s slow to retain the information, or my last name has stunned him for five seconds.
After being asked a million questions about my date of birth, address and whatever else, they took my fingerprints and autograph and then gave me a paparazzi session before I was thrown in a cell.
The grabby officer who was leading interviews tonight was the same one who was at the hospital when Blade was attacked.
Coincidence? No, I don’t believe in them.
He was kind enough to provide me with my own cell, though. I even get a mattress and toilet.
While none of this is good for Rome, I just called checkmate against Daniel Aston.
Our lawyers will put him in prison for the maximum sentence.
I’d shut the door once we were inside so Rome’s security camera wouldn’t catch anything.
At times, I do like my brain for how efficient it is under circumstantial pressure.
The second I saw Rome’s body tense, I knew what I’d need to do.
Of course, Daniel will claim it was Rome who hit him, but with six witnesses—one being a detective watching through the window—his statement won’t correlate with everyone else.
I also have footage of what he did to Kilah, ready and waiting.
When they went out shopping, I hid cameras throughout his house, because, well, I’m obsessed.
I smell mandarin, bergamot, and fucking coconuts everywhere.
I’m also addicted to how his ass feels wrapped around me, the expression and noises he makes when he comes.
I wanted to cover his body in marks, but I made sure to leave them in places others won’t see so he won’t get uncomfortable trying to hide a bruise on his neck or jaw.
Me being in here isn’t ideal, considering Smith. If he’s informed this has happened and discovers my connection to Rome, I’ll have my King surrounded twenty-four-fucking-seven.
I used my phone call to Dad to slyly infer that I wanted Kieran watching Rome. Blade would be the best choice, considering that motherfucker doesn’t think twice about doing what’s necessary, but I don’t trust he won’t use Rome to his advantage and somehow manipulate Dad into bringing Alexa here.
Lying down on the mattress, I cross my arms behind my head and close my eyes, replaying the memory of Rome handcuffed in my back seat.
I was worried he would have a panic attack when he begged me to close the door, but there were only two other cars there when we arrived.
I know the thought of someone potentially catching him in the act of being his true self makes him as stiff as a fucking rock, though.
I’m pissed off I’m not in the shower with him right now, cleaning his body and making sure he’s not too sore. I wanted to fuck him so hard, he begged me to carry him to the passenger seat, but considering it was his first time with a cock in his ass, I kept myself under control—for the most part.
I flick my eyes open when the slot slides across. “Weston, get up.”
“Manners,” I scold, swinging my legs around to stand.
Keys jingle as he unlocks the door, swinging the cuffs.
I fake a sniffle as I approach. “You’re taunting me, Officer Davis.
I’m scared to be near you.” He gives a dead look, tightening the cuffs around my wrists.
“Are we going on a field trip? I’d like to see Big Ben.
Never been, can you imagine that?” He continues ignoring me while I list sights around London I’d like to see on our imaginary night out whilst escorting me to a room.
He drops me to the seat across the wooden table from our family lawyer.
“Research restaurants,” I wink as he shuts the door, and then I turn my grin on Elizabeth.
She releases an exasperated sigh, shaking her head. Nevertheless, she’s smiling. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
She pulls her copper hair into a messy bun, her dreary blue eyes indicating she just got out of bed. She still got dressed for the occasion, wearing her usual grey pantsuit.
I fake a frown. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“Yes, you did.”
Elizabeth is thirty-seven, but she looks no older than twenty-five. Her skin glows with youth.
“I’ve read your statement, and while there’s nothing here that suggests you’re a threat to anyone else, Daniel Aston is currently in hospital, and they’re claiming you pose a threat to his safety while in care.
The likelihood of a bail hearing in the next twenty-four hours is slim at best. You’ll be in here until Daniel is released from hospital and put in his own cell. ”
“He has a police presence at the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“Then what’s the fucking issue, Liz? I’m not going after him.”
“They’re under the assumption you will.”
I scoff, dropping my forehead to the table. Fucking Officer Davis has it out for me. “I need out of here by morning,” I grit out.
“I’m working on it. It was self-defence, correct?”
I lift my head, turning my face for her to see the cut on my lip, the bruise forming on my cheek, the puffing around my left eye.
I’m sure Blade was holding back; if he wanted to, he could’ve knocked me out with a single punch, but Daniel Aston being drunk and swinging a punch this hard isn’t legitimising our story.
She clasps her hands on the table. “I’ll get you out as soon as I can, but I wanted to inform you that you may be in here for a few days.”
“And bail conditions? I’ll need to reside in the penthouse until court, correct?”
She nods.
For fuck’s sake. I need a goddamn cigarette.
“They followed procedure?” she probes.
I lean back, watching the flow of her pen on a notepad. “Yes.”
Her hand pauses mid-word, and her eyes lift to mine. “Have you been given medical treatment for your wounds?”
“Not yet, no.”
“Phone call?”
“Yes.”
“Walk me through everything.”
I spare no detail from the moment I was handcuffed until I was sat before her, even his stutter while he recited the mandatory police caution.
“Right,” is all she says before continuing her pen clicking habit.
“I have no priors.”
“I’m aware of that, Rain.”
“They can’t hold me for more than twenty-four hours, Elizabeth,” I snap. “The only grounds they have for longer detention is if it is an indictable offence.”
Her eyes sharpen. “I’m aware of the law, Rain.
Don’t be a smart-ass, and don’t mention the required medical treatment.
If they don’t provide it, it gives us grounds for neglect.
Go into your cell, sit down, and shut the fuck up.
Play a game of chess in your head for all I care. ” The chair screeches as she stands.
“I don’t really do that anymore. It always ends in a stalemate.” She stares, and I take her advice, clamping my mouth shut. She nods with a huff before sauntering out of the room.