Cannon (Black Blade Protection #2)

Prologue

Eloise

“That is not mine.” I’m shaking as I stare at the bag of white powder Officer Larkin dropped on the desk in front of me. I don’t even know what the substance could be because I’ve never had any experience with drugs in my life. Cocaine? Crack? Is crack a white powder? Meth? I think that’s a liquid.

Larkin smirks. “Try again. I asked you where you got it.”

I sit back in my chair and cross my arms. Larkin is the high school officer. He patrols the hallways and parking lot. He’s a dick on a good day. None of the students like him.

I’ve only been at this particular high school for six months, but I quickly learned to steer clear of this man. No one needed to warn me. I figured that out for myself on day one. When I entered the building, he noticeably sized me up from head to toe, lingering far too long on my breasts.

He’s a lascivious fucking prick. He makes my skin crawl. When I see him in the halls, I turn and walk the other direction. I’ve even caught him lurking outside the girls’ bathrooms when I come out. I’ve prayed it’s all in my head.

But here we are.

I won’t let him see me weak. “Mr. Larkin, I’m telling you I’ve never seen that before. I don’t have a clue what that powder even is.”

He laughs at me. “That’s rich coming from you, Ms. Brighton. You’re not exactly the poster girl for sweet and innocent.”

I flinch. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Fuck. You.

He’s standing behind the desk in his small office. He made me sit, but he’s still on his feet, which I’m certain is intentional to make him seem intimidating. It’s working.

His chuckle is evil as he sets his hands on the top of the desk and leans toward me. “How many foster homes have you been in, Eloise?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” My heart rate has picked up. I’m fucking nervous. I don’t like the vibe in this room, which probably used to be a supply closet until they hired an on-site officer.

My hackles are on edge at his implication. The fact that I’ve been moved around to different foster families more times than I care to admit has absolutely nothing to do with me. Never once have I been in any kind of trouble.

He glances at an open manila folder in front of him. “You’ve been with five families since you started high school. Lord knows how many families couldn’t tolerate your behavioral problems when you were in elementary.”

My breath hitches. I’ve never had behavioral problems. Not once. He didn’t read that in any file unless someone planted it there. I glance at the mysterious bag of white powder. Speaking of planted…

But why would someone do this to me? Who?

I purse my lips. Anything I say is simply going to egg Larkin on.

“Seems to me you have a problem, Eloise.” He leans back, crosses his arms, and smirks yet again.

I stare at him, trying not to let him see my fear. He’s baiting me. Someone told him lies about me. Someone put false information in my folder. And someone planted whatever that shit is in my locker.

I’m fucked.

Before he called me in here, I sat outside his office for over an hour.

He stopped me in the hallway after the last bell and ordered me to wait for him.

And then the man disappeared. He was probably on duty outside dealing with dismissal, and I’d begun to think he’d forgotten me when he finally showed up.

He eyed me with a narrowed glare as he marched past me, holding out a finger. “I’ll be with you soon. Don’t move.” And then he went into his office and shut the door.

I should have run away. But how much trouble would I be in if I’d done that?

Larkin rounds the desk and leans against the corner, far too close to me. His knee grazes mine as he crosses his ankles. “I’m a contracted officer, Eloise. Do you know what that means?”

“No.” I can’t bring myself to call him sir. He’s an asshole and doesn’t deserve my respect.

“It means until I report you to the station, there is no record of your crime.”

I cringe. “I didn’t commit a crime.”

He scoffs. “According to your file, you’ve been in trouble with the police a number of times.”

I gasp. “I’ve never once been in any kind of trouble.”

He lifts a brow. “You calling me a liar, Eloise?”

“I’m telling you your information is crap.”

“And yet, who do you think the police will believe when I call them?”

The blood drains from my face. What is he alluding to?

He leans back to pick up the file and scans the page, rattling off a list of lies.

“Shoplifting twice, drug possession three times, evading arrest once, curfew violations four.” He points toward the clear bag.

“Do you know how much time you would serve in prison for having that much cocaine on you?”

I can’t breathe. Is he serious? My jaw drops open.

Larkin jeers at me as he sets the folder down and crosses his arms again.

“I see you turned eighteen last month. You’re an adult now.

That makes possession of illegal drugs a much more serious offense.

You were supposed to graduate in a month.

I see your foster parents agreed to let you live there until then. ”

I stare at him. I’m certain my eyes are wide. I can’t figure out who planted this. Surely not another student. I don’t even know anyone here that well. Plus, how would they have access to my files? And they couldn’t have actually created false police reports.

“You’ve got two options, Eloise.”

I can’t even blink. My head is pounding.

He grabs the edge of his desk and leans closer. So close I can smell his breath. Burgers from lunch. I want to vomit. “Either I call this in right now and you spend the next twenty years in prison, or you choose door number two and follow my instructions to avoid hard time.”

My mouth is so dry I can’t even lick my lips or swallow. I might faint. He’s fucking blackmailing me.

He leans even closer. There’s less than an inch between his face and mine.

“Let me tell you something, Eloise. If you think I don’t have the power to put you in prison, you’re wrong.

I have an entire file that demonstrates you’re nothing but trouble.

These records with the police do exist. So I’d think twice about taking your chances.

I have an exemplary record with the department.

It would be your word against mine. An obvious problem child with a drug addiction and a history of arrest against a cop. ”

I white-knuckle the arms of the chair.

“You’re going to go home and act like everything is fine. At midnight, you will pack a backpack and sneak out of the house. You’ll meet me here in the rear parking lot at twelve-thirty.”

My ears are ringing, and I gasp when Larkin grabs my chin and holds it painfully. “Make it look like you simply ran away, Eloise. No one will give a fuck. You’re eighteen. Are we clear?”

I don’t move a muscle.

“Are we fucking clear?” he shouts.

“Yes, sir.” I hate myself for caving, but what the fuck am I supposed to do?

“Good. See you in a few hours. If you’re not there, I call the cops. If you run, I call the cops. They’ll have a warrant out for your arrest before morning. If you tell anyone about this, same thing. Your word against mine.” He releases my chin and pats my cheek condescendingly. “Go.”

I grab my backpack with shaky hands, stand, and hurry from his office. I don’t even glance back.

I don’t know what the hell is going to happen to me, but I do know my life is fucked either way.

I only manage to hold my tears until I get home and into the room I share with another foster child. She’s seven. I lie on my bed and try not to hyperventilate.

My life has been shit from the moment I fell out of my mother’s womb, and it looks like it’s about to get a whole lot worse.