Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Tears are running down her face. The car starts to slow. The look in her eyes scares the fuck out of me. It’s as if she’s lost and can’t find her way out.
“Snap out of it!” I yell again.
I’ve been yelling at her for at least three minutes, and she wasn’t acknowledging me. I could tell something shifted in her. She went somewhere else. And then the tears started falling down her face. I saw her focus on a tree up ahead, and my gut told me exactly what she was thinking.
I wasn’t scared for me. I was scared for her. I don’t want her to get hurt. More than that, I don’t want her to give up. This is far worse than I thought it was, and I’m in way over my head trying to help her.
When she stops, she doesn’t look at me. “You should get out.”
“Yeah, not fucking happening, P,” I tell her, turning in my seat. “Look at me.”
“It’s not what you think,” she says when she finally glances in my direction.
“Yes, it is, and we are going to talk about it.”
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry. I just zoned out. I’m fine. You need to leave.” She’s trying to get rid of me again.
“I’m not leaving you. You are not alone, P.” I reach out and wipe her wet cheeks. “Tell me what happened.”
Zara opens her mouth and then closes it. “I said it was nothing, Ares.”
“Fine, lie to me. But unless you want me to go and talk to your parents, then you are going to talk to me. You can’t fight this alone. I’m not going to let you.”
Before she can respond, red-and-blue lights beam through the back windscreen.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath. “Don’t say a word to them. Call your uncle.” I watch as two cops approach us.
“Step out of the car,” one of them says while the other shines a fucking torch inside.
“You too.” Cop number two walks around to me.
Zara opens the door, and the moment she steps out, the cop grabs and turns her around, pressing her against the car. I see fucking red.
“Get your hands off her! Do you know who that is?” I yell, only to get the same treatment from cop number two, who slaps handcuffs on my wrists. I don’t fight him. I know better than that.
“You’re both under arrest for street racing. Who owns this car?” Cop number one asks.
“I do,” Zara says.
“You sure don’t look like a Dominic McKinley,” he says.
“I’m his daughter.”
“Sure you are.” The cop laughs.
“I am. My ID is in the car,” Zara explains.
The cop reaches in and finds her purse, pulling out her driver’s licence. “Right, well, Miss McKinley, rich or not, street racing is illegal.”
“I want my lawyer,” I say.
“I bet you do,” the cop behind me replies.
We’re placed in the back of their vehicle. One of the cops takes the keys from Zara and locks her car. “You’re seriously going to leave it here?” I ask them.
“Yep. You can arrange to have someone collect it once we’re at the station.”
“What were you doing out street racing?” his counterpart presses.
“Don’t answer that,” I tell Zara.
“I’m not an idiot,” she hisses at me.
“Considering your uncle is the best defence lawyer in the country, I’d expect you not to be an idiot when getting arrested, P.
” I smile, trying to lighten the situation.
My eyes stay trained on her. I haven’t forgotten what she was thinking in that car.
I wish I could reach out and touch her, reassure her that she’s okay.
I need to call her uncle, who also happens to be my family solicitor. I couldn’t give a fuck how long I have to sit in that cell, though. I just want him to come and get her.
We get separated as soon as we arrive at the station. There’s nothing I can do about it either and I fucking hate it. But I know how this works. The more I fight, the longer they’ll keep me here just to fuck with me. It’s not the first time I’ve found myself in cuffs.
“Sit down.” One of the officers pushes me towards a shitty chair. He lowers himself onto the one across the desk.
I drop down, meet his stare, and wait. I’m not talking. Like I said, I’m not a fucking idiot.
It doesn’t take too long for the officer to break the silence. “Tell me who you were racing tonight. Who arranged the race?” he asks.
“I want my lawyer.” I know my rights, and I’m not about to incriminate myself. Also, I doubt they actually have any evidence. Zara and I were pulled over on the side of the road when they turned up behind us.
“Why?”
“I want my lawyer. Xavier Christianson. I’m sure you’ve heard of him,” I say.
Without a word, the asshole grunts as he leaves the room. The door slams behind him.
I’m left sitting here for another thirty minutes. I know because all I can do is watch the fucking clock ticking on the wall. My hands are still in cuffs. The asshole didn’t take them off.
The moment Xavier walks in, he demands the cuffs be removed before he kicks the officers out of the room. Xavier doesn’t sit. He stands on the opposite side of the table.
“Is she okay?” I ask.
“Is who okay?”
“Zara. You did see her first, didn’t you?” I jump up from my chair. “Why the fuck are you in here? Go and get her out.”
“Zara is here? They arrested her?”
“She was driving. We weren’t racing. We were parked on the side of the road when the cops pulled up behind us. They’ve got nothing to charge us with. Go and get her out of whatever fucking room they’re holding her in!” I shout at him.
“We’re going to talk about what you were doing in a parked car with my niece,” Xavier says before he walks out.
Why didn’t she ask for him?
Because she doesn’t fucking care what happens to her. The image of her driving towards a fucking tree plays on repeat in my mind.
Sitting down, I rest my elbows on the table and lower my head. I’m going to be here awhile. I might as well get comfortable.