twenty-four Selena
twenty-four
Selena
It’s not Warren who comes out first, but Damon, shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in borrowed sweatpants. He looks like he just spent a month in the hole, even though it’s only been a night.
“Fucking finally,” he says, voice hoarse.
Lily runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugs him, hard, and for a second, the world is just the sound of her breathing in his neck. Then she pulls back and kisses him.
Next is Xavier, led out by a female officer with a face like unfinished stone.
She unlocks his cuffs, gives him a warning glare, and vanishes back inside.
Xavier smooths his shirt, checks his reflection in the glass, and then—seeing us—comes over, sits on the far end of the bench, and doesn’t say a word.
I watch the door, waiting for Warren. My knee starts to shake. Every second he isn’t here feels like a new brand of panic.
Anthony emerges next, cursing and grumbling as he goes to his sons.
When he does come out, it’s different. There’s no escort, no cuffs. He steps into the sun with his head high, every muscle tight, and for a split second, I see the version of him that could break the world in two if he wanted. He looks at me, and everything else goes out of focus.
I stand, but he closes the distance first, wraps me up in his arms, lifts me off the ground. It’s not gentle, but it’s not desperate either. It’s like he’s making sure I’m real.
“I thought you’d run,” he says, low.
“Not a chance,” I whisper back, and he sets me down, keeps his hands on my waist like he’s afraid I’ll vanish.
It’s only when we get to the parking lot that I hear the voice.
“Selena Ramirez?” He flashes a badge, but doesn’t bother with introductions. “Detective wants a word,” he says. “Now.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Warren shouts.
Damon and Xavier step forward. Anthony does too, which surprises me.
Warren tenses, but I shake my head and step forward. “It’s fine. I’ll go.”
He holds the door for me, and as we walk back through the lobby, I feel every eye on my back. The vending machine guy leads me past the front desk, down a hall that smells of disinfectant and despair, and into a glass-walled office that’s the closest thing this building has to a confessional.
They force Warren to stay in the lobby while I follow the detective. He looks so worried, and it breaks my heart.
The detective is already there. She’s in her mid-thirties and looks like she’s exhausted. She gestures for me to sit.
“Ms. Ramirez,” she says, “I’m Detective Grant. You know why you’re here?”
“Not really, but I’m sure it has something to do with my boyfriend, Warren King?”
It feels strange calling Warren my boyfriend. We haven’t had that talk yet, but we did say I love you.
She asks me about the night that the body was found. I knew exactly what she was going to ask.
“I was with Warren at his condo in Sunnyvale. I’m a journalist, and I had to work on an upcoming story. He made us dinner and stayed with me.” I keep my face neutral and hope and pray that she can’t see how nervous I am.
She nods, makes a note. “Anyone else see you there?”
“I’m not sure. We didn’t go out after I got there,” I explained.
I’ve always been a terrible liar, and I really hope I’m convincing her now. The detective’s eyes search my face for a crack, a tell, anything. I give her nothing.
“So neither of you left that night?” she asks again.
My pulse jumps. “No.”
“Are you aware that a man’s body was found at the docks in Sunnyvale?
He’s linked to several mafia families in the area.
A tip came in that the King family killed him and left him there.
” She leans back in her chair and watches me carefully.
Slowly, she opens a folder and shows me images of a dead man with blood and bruises staining his face. I almost gag.
I shake my head. “If you had anything on Warren, you’d keep him. But you don’t, so you’re trying to scare me.”
She laughs, a genuine sound. “You’re sharper than you look. I do have one more question for you,” she prompts.
“Ok,” I say.
“What does Warren King do for a living?” she questions.
I gulp. “He has a few rental properties he owns and runs with his brothers. He also owns a nightclub, but you already know that, don’t you?” I fire back.
She smiles, and it’s smug.
We sat in silence for a minute. She closes her notebook, stands, and holds the door open. “If you remember anything else, let me know.”
I stand. “Are we done?”
She nods. “You’re free to go. For now.”
When I exit back to the lobby, everyone is waiting for me.
Warren rushes and grabs me, pulling me close to his chest. It’s the safest I’ve felt in a while. “Are you ok?” he asks.
“I’m fine.” I hugged him back.
“I’ve got my attorney working on this now. They shouldn’t have interviewed Selena without one present,” Anthony roars on a phone.
“Dad, let’s go,” Xavier instructs, leading everyone outside.
Damon keeps his arm around Lily as they walk out in front of us.
Anthony walks over to me and eyes me carefully. “I thought Damon was crazy when he brought Lily into our lives, but she’s been a blessing. Selena, thank you for helping get us out tonight and for helping Warren,” Anthony says, offering a small smile.
“It was my pleasure,” I say, and Warren leans down and kisses my forehead.
“It takes a strong woman to tolerate us,” he gruffs.
“Selena is the strongest woman I know, besides Mom,” Warren says.
Anthony nods.
We walk toward Lily’s BMW, and we all pile in. It’s a tight fit, but we manage.
As we drive toward the compound, everyone is talking at once, but I hold onto Warren like he is my lifeline.