20. Char
CHAR
With Deac and Rat handcuffed in the back of the deputy’s vehicles, I rode with Nielson in the passenger’s seat of his cruiser. I didn’t like the look of my men with metal slapped on their wrists. But that simply made me more determined to make sure they all got out of this unscathed.
I wasn’t going to let some bitch from my past ruin the only decent future I ever attempted to build for myself.
“Care to put on a good face?” Nielson asked as we turned onto the main road.
I snickered as I kept my gaze out the window. “I’ve got plenty to cry over in my life. You just let me do what I do best.”
“And what’s that?” Deac asked from the backseat.
I scoffed. “Grieve.”
Tears welled in my eyes the second I saw that vehicle.
The pristine little navy-blue hatchback that bitch traded out.
Tears silently slipped down my cheeks as the sheriff parked his cruiser near the front door.
I watched through the window as Deputy Carlyle yanked Rat out of the back of his car and shoved him toward the main entrance.
Time to get at it.
“Hey!” I barked as I slammed my way out of the cruiser. “Don’t you dare put your hands on him like that!”
I wiped at my eyes as Nielson dragged Deac out of the back of that car. I whipped around and watched as the sheriff tripped him up on the sidewalk, and the love of my life dropped to his knees.
“Deacon!” I exclaimed. “No!”
I rushed to him, but one of the deputies snatched me up. He picked me clear up off my feet as I jutted them around in the air, calling out to Deacon and Rat.
“You’ll pay for this, Nielson!” I shrieked. “They haven’t even done anything!”
“I want a lawyer!” Deac bellowed.
“Just because you guys don’t give a shit about what happened to Bait doesn’t mean we don’t. We’ll never stop looking. Never. Do you hear me!?” Rat roared.
I dropped to my knees as I watched the deputies and the sheriff wrangle them into the precinct.
It felt a little too real. It felt like a little bit too much.
I let my fears get the better of me as I knelt there with my arms around my stomach.
My bones vibrated. Seeing them in handcuffs?
What if they got processed? What if something happened and they actually got arrested?
What if we had to make it look so good that they actually had to go to jail?
I struggled to catch my breath as a set of soft hands descended upon me.
“Miss Charlotte,” Marcie said softly.
Time to really lay it on thick.
“Oh God. No,” I choked out as I leaned into her.
She wrapped her arms around me and shushed me softly, as if she were a comforting mother doing her best for her child. I cried against her, my body shivering as I clung to her clothing.
“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Marcie said as she helped me up from the ground.
I stumbled around, acting like my emotions got the better of me and I simply couldn’t walk. I tripped trying to get through the front door, and I had to cling to Marcie in order to balance myself.
“I gotcha. I gotcha. It’s okay. You’re safe. Everything is aaaaall right,” she said softly.
“You’re never gonna get away with this,” I snarled as I lunged at the deputy behind the plexiglass at the front desk. “You’ll never get away with this!”
“Miss Char!” Marcie exclaimed as she whipped me around to face her. “What happened?”
I drew in a broken breath as tears drowned my neck. “You were right. You were—they were—they’re—I can’t—oh—oh, my God, Marcie. Th-th-th—they?—”
“Sh-sh-sh-sh,” she said as she pulled me in for a close hug, “come here. It’s okay. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
It was all that I could do not to slam that woman’s head into the fucking wall of that front foyer.
“Can I help you two?” Nielson asked.
I whipped around and made sure to dig my heels in for the scene. “You make sure to let those fuckers know that they’ll never get away with it. They’ll never get away! Not that I know! No one ever gets away from me! Not even my own father!”
I shrieked by the end of things, and Marcie had to step in front of me in order to be heard.
“It’s okay, Sheriff, I’ve got this. It’s been a long time coming,” she said.
“And who the hell are you? Since we haven’t officially met and all,” Nielson asked curtly.
That’s when the woman pulled out the credentials that I recognized. “Special Agent Marcie Dickerson, ATF.”
All right, so we had her real name, but still that fake ass agency. I peeked over at the sheriff before he held out his hand.
“Credentials?” he asked as he wiggled his fingers.
The woman slapped them into his palm, and he studied them, turning them upside down and damn near inside out. I expected him to call her out on the fake credentials. Or maybe even let her in on the fact that we knew who she worked for. Anything to put her on edge.
But instead, he simply handed them back. “Sorry about that. Can’t be too careful nowadays.”
She snickered as she tucked her credentials away. “Trust me, I know what you mean.”
“Let go of me!”
“Get your fucking hands off me!”
“I swear to fucking hell, if you rip this jacket.”
“Char! We have to talk! Please!”
“Look,” Nielson said as he backed toward a door, “you can speak with one of my deputies. They’ll give you whatever you need. But I’ve got a lot of paperwork that has to be filled out before I can go home and see the ol’ lady.”
Marcie pointed at him. “Actually, these men are who I wanted to speak with you about. Care if we talk somewhere private?”
I sniffled as I wiped at my tears. “What about me? Where should I go?”
Marcie turned to face me and took my upper arms in her hands. “I’ll get you out of this. Whatever it is, whatever they’re doing to you, you’re safe now. Just let me go and speak with the sheriff really quickly and we’ll get this sorted out. Okay?”
I turned the waterworks back on as my lower lip quivered. “Please don’t leave me. I know I should’ve listened the first time you warned me, but I swear, I’m listening now.”
She rubbed her hands up and down my arms. “No one is punishing you. You’re not in trouble.”
“Please,” I whispered desperately, “don’t leave me.”
Marcie peered over her shoulder. “Are you good if a civilian comes with me for the questioning?”
Nielson nodded. “We can get her some water, too. That should help cool her down a bit. Follow me.”
And as we worked our way through the hallways of the precinct that I walked earlier that same day, I watched as Nielson held his arm out toward the same interrogation room that wasn’t set up for listening or recording.
Man, when Nielson was good, he really was good.
Gotcha, you stupid bitch.