Chapter Thirty-Five
Brinley
I don’t hang up when he tells me to step out of the car. I set my phone on the passenger seat, like I’m just clearing space.
I leave the door open when I stand, hoping he can still hear me.
“Is there a problem?” I ask when I glance at him.
There’s something familiar about the way he looks, and I’m trying to gauge whether I know him or if I’ve seen him before. He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at me like he’s already decided something.
“You were drifting,” he says finally.
“No, I wasn’t.”
He shrugs a little, like that part doesn’t matter.
He looks down at my license and registration.
“Brinley Taylor,” he says. “You have family here?”
“No.”
He studies my face a beat too long.
“No extended family nearby?” he asks.
The question feels strange, but I answer it anyway.
“No,” I say again, a little firmer. “All my family’s back in Kentucky.”
A small smile pulls at his mouth.
“I’m not talking about that side.”
I glance at his chest without thinking and see “Dawson” printed on the gold badge.
It takes me a second to process it, then it clicks.
I look up at him, and he must see the moment it hits me. “Yeah,” he says softly, like he’s confirming what I’m thinking.
My throat feels tight.
“You’ve been around town for a while,” he says. “Working over at Broken Saddle.”
I don’t ask him how he knows.
“I thought I heard you were leaving town, though,” he adds.
The words “leaving town” make my stomach turn.
“I’m not,” I say quietly.
He steps closer to me, and I stiffen in response.
“Small towns are protective,” he says, “especially when outsiders come around, stirring up drama and secrets that were meant to stay buried.”
I don’t answer.
My car door is still open behind me with my phone sitting on the seat.
Please still be there, Cooper. Please still be listening.
“I don’t know what you think I’m involved in, but I’m not here to cause drama,” I say.
He tilts his head.
“Maybe it would be easier if you left,” he says, “before things start to get any more complicated.”
My chest feels tight, but I don’t move.
“Will you be writing me a ticket, or am I free to go?” I ask.
He studies me one more time, then hands my license back.
“For now.”
He walks back to his cruiser like this was nothing. I stand there for a second longer than I should, then climb into my car and pick up my phone.
“Cooper?” I say, my voice lower now.
“I’m on my way.” He sounds panicked.
I barely have time to answer Cooper when he’s back at my door again.
“Step out again.”
“I thought you said I was free to go.”
His expression is stoic. “Step out of the vehicle, Brinley.”
I don’t argue. I don’t want to give him a reason to escalate this.
The second my feet hit the pavement, he grabs me and shoves me forward, his hand pressing into my back until my chest hits the side of the car.
“Arms behind you.”
“What are you doing? Why?” My voice doesn’t even sound like my own.
“Arms. Behind your back. Now.”
I do as he says. The metal cuffs snap around my wrists before I can fully process what’s happening. They’re tight and cutting into my skin.
“You’re under arrest.”
“For what?” I ask, my voice shaking now.
“This could’ve all been avoided,” he mutters against my ear, “if you had listened the first time.”
He grips my arm and starts walking me toward his patrol car.
The first time.
My stomach drops so hard I start to feel dizzy. The cars whirling past us along the side of the road aren’t helping either.
I don’t realize what’s happening until a truck pulls up behind him, braking hard. The door flies open, and Cooper comes racing toward me.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouts.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I try to say his name, and it comes out broken.
His grip on my arm tightens. “Mind your business, Cooper,” he says flatly.
“You see that woman? She’s my business,” Cooper grits. “Now get your hands off her. She’s crying. You’re hurting her.”
He moves closer but stops short. I can see the anger rolling off him to the point he’s shaking.
“Why are you arresting her?”
He doesn’t answer Cooper.
“Wreckless driving,” he says. “When I pulled her over to question her, she was resisting.”
“I was not resisting,” I argue.
Cooper looks from me to him, and something in his face shifts.
“You were there that night. I saw you,” Cooper says. “Behind the bar.”
My eyes widen, and I shift my gaze from Cooper to him.
“You were the one who assaulted her in the alley,” Cooper continues. “Warned her to leave town.”
The air feels like it’s closing in on me. It’s almost suffocating. I start crying harder because I know he’s right. I knew it, and hearing him say it out loud confirms it’s true.
“You’re out of line,” the officer says.
“What does her being here cost you?” Cooper asks, his voice low.
“Back up. Now.”
“Hell no. Tell me. What does her living in Rixton have to do with you or your brother?”
His grip on my arm tightens again, and I whimper.
“You’ve been watching her since she got here.” Cooper doesn’t stop. “You pulled her over when she first moved here. I’ve seen you parked in your cruiser outside of her place. I know it was you who broke into my house and took that photo, then tried to insinuate it was Brinley who gave them to you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think I do,” Cooper warns. “I think when people found out about Coach Dawson having a daughter, they started asking questions. You can’t have that now, can you? Those sorts of questions draw attention, attention you don’t want.”
I tremble, my gaze bouncing from Cooper to him.
“I guess I don’t know what I’m talking about, though, right?
” Cooper smirks. “What would you say when those questions shift to you? What will you say when they start questioning you about your lifestyle, and how it doesn’t match your police salary?
Or is that another one of those things you don’t want a light shined on? ”
My heart pounds so hard my vision feels fuzzy.
“You need to be careful,” he warns.
“Careful about what?” Cooper presses. “Careful about reminding you that you’re using your badge to intimidate her? She’s your niece, you piece of shit.”
His eyes flick, almost frantic, his jaw tightening.
“Release her,” Cooper warns.
He doesn’t move, and I tremble against him.
“Release her. Now,” he repeats.
Cars are slowing now. People are starting to watch.
The officer exhales through his nose and reaches down to unlock the cuffs. I cry out when the pressure on my wrists disappears.
I wince as I rub them. Cooper studies me, checking me over to make sure I’m okay.
“You’re lucky,” the cop says, his voice still threatening.
Cooper steps in front of me without hesitation, blocking me from his view.
“Yeah,” he says evenly. “We are.”
They stare at each other for a long second. He doesn’t walk away at first. Instead, he takes a step in close, his chest nearly bumping against Cooper’s.
“Careful,” he says to Cooper. His voice is still low. “You’re throwing around accusations that could ruin careers.”
Cooper doesn’t falter, though. Instead, he shifts closer to him.
“You mean like yours?” Cooper asks quietly.
I reach out and fist the back of Cooper’s shirt, muttering to him to stop and that it’s okay.
“You don’t know what you’re getting involved in,” he says.
Cooper lets out a short breath through his nose. Not quite a laugh but close. “You’re right,” he says. “I didn’t.”
He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out his phone. The officer’s eyes flick down to it.
“You really think you’re smart?” Cooper turns the screen around to face him. “You’ve been on video call this whole time,” Cooper says calmly.
I look from Cooper to the screen and see Talon and someone I don’t recognize. Their faces are frozen in different expressions.
“And we’ve been recording this whole time,” Talon adds.
His face changes.
“What was it you said? Be careful about accusations that could damage someone’s career?” Cooper asks. “I mean, I have it on video now, so I think you’d have a hard time making a case that these are accusations, right?”
“Yeah, that would be pretty damaging for you,” Talon adds.
“And your brother,” another voice chimes in.
The officer looks from the phone to Cooper.
“You’re bluffing.”
“Am I?” the unknown voice says again. “Because the metadata I’ve been tracking on you says otherwise.”
The officer looks between us both.
“This isn’t over,” he says.
Cooper doesn’t hesitate. “Maybe not, but you picked the wrong motherfucker to mess with.”
The officer’s jaw tightens.
“You want to protect your image?” Cooper continues, his voice even. “I would suggest you take your own advice and get the hell out of town.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Stay away from her. Stay away from her place, from the bar, and from anything that has to do with her,” Cooper adds. “Because if you think you can scare her into leaving, you’ll have to drag me out of town with her. And I promise you one thing—I’ll make it hell for you on the way.”
He holds Cooper’s gaze for another long second before turning and walking back to his patrol car.
The flashing lights shut off as he pulls away.
Cooper turns to face me, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist, and for the first time since those lights came on behind me, I feel like I can breathe again.