Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Jules
T he car jolts to a stop with a bang that hits me square in the chest. I slam my foot on the brake, although it’s too late now. The damage is done. To my precious vehicle. And me. The goddamn seatbelt strangles my boob, and my neck aches like I’ve completed a twister workout. What was I thinking putting the gear in drive instead of reverse?
Stupid gym. This is what happens when you work out and you’re angry and frustrated. It would have been safer if I’d stayed home and drowned my sorrows with wine.
I shove the door open and clamber out to inspect my sporty Mazda. And yep, it’s as bad as I feared. The entire front is crumpled around a pole. Mick’s going to be pissed. I’m pissed.
“That’s what you get for driving like a lunatic.”
What the hell is she doing here? Taylor struts towards me in bright pink tight shorts and a sports bra top that barely keeps the girls contained. I’ll have to change gyms now. I see red at her smug grin.
With hands on my hips, I glare at her. “There’s nothing wrong with the way I drive. ”
She points at the billow of steam from my radiator. “I beg to differ.”
The urge to smack the attitude off her face is strong, but I turn my back on her to avoid temptation. My poor car. It’s not going anywhere now. I’ll have to call for roadside assistance.
I reach inside and pull out my mobile. A thump between my shoulder blades has me stumbling and the phone flying into the air and onto the concrete. I whip around to find Taylor laughing her arse off. Bitch!
I take two running steps but stop short when an image of Riley comes to mind. Violence is never the answer. Not that Taylor gets the memo. She brings those talons of hers up and swipes my cheek, but I swerve just in time and yank on her ponytail. She screams like a banshee.
Several people run out of the gym, but they’re a blur as sweat, or maybe tears, sting my eyes. Taylor latches onto my arm with her teeth. Ouch. I kick her shin, and we both tumble to the concrete.
“What the hell’s going on here?” booms a familiar voice.
Crap. This doesn’t look good. I scramble to my feet. My butt and palms burn from the impact. And the bite mark throbs. At least the skin wasn’t broken. But my back aches from where it was thumped. Or that could be because of my fall.
With two bloody knees and a grazed elbow, Taylor’s worse off, thanks to her lack of clothes. She nurses her head. No doubt she’s missing a hair or twenty. “She assaulted me.”
“She started it.” I cringe at the whine in my voice. I sound like Riley.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Ladies, please calm down.” Greg’s gaze rakes over Taylor and then me. Even dressed in running shorts and a sleeveless top, he screams authority. Reminds me of Mick. “Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“No.” I shake my head .
Taylor runs her fingers over her scalp, then whips out her phone. “I’m calling the police.”
“I am the police,” says Greg.
Emily sidles up to him. Similar to Taylor, her perfect abs are on display, but Emily’s girls are safely contained, and her legs are covered in black leggings. “Hello. I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you again.”
Taylor’s face pales. “You.”
Emily links arms with Greg. “I see you’ve met my boyfriend.”
Taylor’s eyes narrow to tiny points. “I still want to press charges. Jules is a menace.”
The air freezes around us as Greg regards her for several seconds. “If you insist.” He pulls out his phone. “Detective Sergeant Greg Anderson here. Can you send a car up to the gym on Church Street?”
My heart sinks. Mick’s going to be beyond pissed. I glare at the bitch. “Well, I’ll be pressing charges right back at you.”
Taylor sneers. “Good luck with that.” She holds her hands out to Greg, her expression seductive. Unbelievable. What part of him being Emily’s boyfriend did she not get?
“I can help you.” Emily steps forward and hauls Taylor up like she weighs nothing. I smother a smile at the sour turn of Taylor’s lips. She doesn’t thank Emily. Just shakes her off and pulls a mirror out of her handbag. So vain.
“You sure you’re okay, Jules?” Greg lays a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve gone white as a ghost.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I push onto my feet. My stomach gurgles and my vision blurs.
“Fine, my arse.” Greg hooks his arms beneath mine as my legs turn to rubber. The world spins and I clutch at his shirt to stop myself from falling. He carries me into the gym as if I weigh nothing and sets me down in the reception area.
He passes me a bottle of water. I gulp it down .
“Easy,” says Greg. “Looks like you didn’t drink enough fluids during your workout.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “I forgot.” That’s what I get for ranting and raving at how unfair life is while working out.
He offers me a protein bar. “Eat this. It’ll give you some energy.”
“Thanks.” I take a mouthful and discover I’m starving.
“Hey Greg, the general duties guys are here,” says Emily. She turns to the receptionist. “Can you retrieve a copy of the footage from the cameras outside?”
“No problem. I’ll call the security company.”
I cough as the protein bar goes down the wrong way. Greg shoves the water bottle at me. I take a sip and clear my throat. “There are cameras?”
“Yes.” His eyes are a similar brown to Mick’s, but there’s no warmth in them as he regards me with a cold, calculated stare. “Is that good … or bad?”
“Um …” I stare at the floor to escape his discerning gaze. What happened? Oh yeah. I thought about hitting Taylor, but she struck first. When I lift my head, Greg and Emily are both watching me. If I was guilty, I’d be sweating worse than I was during my workout under their combined scrutiny.
“It’s good.”
Emily pats my arm. “Then we’ll make sure the footage doesn’t get lost.”
“Em …” Greg growls.
She raises her hands. “Kidding.” She winks and kisses his cheek. “As if you weren’t thinking the same thing.”
Greg organises a tow truck for my car, but my mobile is beyond saving. No matter how many times I turn it off and on, the screen remains blank. Not that I’m in a hurry to tell Mick what happened.
The police car arrives, and the two constables are forced to wait while Taylor’s injuries are tended to by one of the fitness instructors. Who knew grazed knees required close inspection of inner thighs and breasts? The woman is shameless. And it only gets worse on the ride to the station. Not only do I have to put up with the stink of her expensive perfume, but also her brazen flirting with the cops. It’s a miracle I don’t barf.
Is it against the law to vomit in a police car?
We’re left to wait in the foyer, but there are no seats available. It seems like all of Parramatta has decided today is a good day to lodge a frivolous complaint. Some older guy in a tweed jacket—it’s a bit warm for tweed—demands they charge his neighbour for allowing their dog to poop in his front yard. And a woman plastered with more make-up than Taylor is submitting a report about loud music being played next door.
Do these people not realise the police force has real criminals, like thieves and murderers, to catch?
And bullies like Taylor.
The only thing keeping me from crumbling is knowing that Greg and Emily are retrieving footage of the incident. It’s all I need to prove my innocence.
We don’t wait long. Ten minutes after arriving, Greg appears behind the counter, still dressed in his gym wear. He crooks his finger. “Come with me, ladies.”
He opens an internal door, and we follow him into the bowels of the station. So, this is where Mick’s been working. I catch sight of a few desks and uniforms but no sign of my husband. Maybe he’s out? Please let him be out. I’ll have to face him eventually, but I couldn’t handle his disappointment right now.
Heat suffuses my skin. “Does Mick know I’m here? ”
Greg shakes his head. “No. He and Jake are in a briefing. I can interrupt if you want.”
“No. It’s fine.”
“Okay.” Greg leads us into a small room that’s devoid of all but the bare essentials—a table and two chairs. “Take a seat.”
I slump onto the closest chair. Everything aches from my little showdown in the gym car park. And my right breast still feels like the seatbelt is jammed against it.
Taylor glares at the sparse furniture and remains standing. “What are we in here for? Can’t I just press charges and go?”
“You’ll get your chance.” Greg crosses his arms and leans against the door. “I wanted to give you the courtesy of telling you I’ve reviewed the security camera footage.”
Taylor’s face turns as grey as the walls. “There were cameras?”
“Yes.”
Taylor inspects her nails. Rubs one which is missing the monstrous claw. It must have been torn off during our scuffle. That’s gotta hurt. She gives me a coy smile. “I might have been a bit hasty. After all, Jules and I are friends.”
I snort. More like mortal enemies. “I’m happy to walk out of here and pretend it never happened.” And escape before my husband finds out.
“Excellent.” Taylor tosses her ponytail over her shoulder. “Can I go home now, Sergeant?” Her voice has a sultry tone to it, the subtext being ‘Can you take me to bed?’ I can’t believe I ever called this woman a friend.
Greg’s mouth turns down. “Are you sure, Jules?”
“Absolutely.”