Detention With The Bad Boy

ⅩⅩⅩⅣ - Panties On Fire and Talking

"SO, HOW ARE we doing this?" My panick and worry oozes through my voice, as I parked my car outside the police station.

My gaze flickered from the steering wheel of my car to the station, looking for a familiar bald cop whilst my stomach formed a knot of anxiousness.

"Go in, lie and get the bloody handcuffs removed." Marcus answered neutrally.

I shot him a skeptical look and raised a brow. "And if that doesn't work. Which it won't. What's plan b?"

"Steal the keys."

He sounds so sure and confident about the idea, and I stare at him cautiously. "Why do I have a feeling that you've done this before?"

He turns to me, his green eyes glittering dangerously and he smirks, making my heart race. "Maybe, because I have."

"What? Why and when?" I asked, trying my very best to ignore his knee weakening stare, which seems to be failing.

"Love, why don't we indulge into the talking after we get the keys?" His tone is gently mocking. "I can't wait to have this shit remove. Stings like a bitch." He twists the cuff on his wrist.

"Oh yeah. Ofcourse." I mumbled, abashed. Silly me. Ofcourse he wants to get away from me ASAP.

I actually didn't mind though. Being handcuffed to him, I mean. At first it was like a tragedy, but after spending the day with him, it doesn't seem so bad after all.

Don't lie to yourself. The small voice of my subconscious snapped. You know you actually liked it.

Oh shut up, bitch.

I turn to Marcus, tilting my head sideways ready to tell him that we should go while there are less popos around, only to stop and hammer my mouth shut because he's already looking at me.

His paralyzing green eyes are dark, regarding me intently and are glazed with thoughts, and my heart once again is frantic. His mouth is set in an impassive line, his jaw tense and his expression is one of bewilderment.

He looks confused, disoriented, angry and thoughtful all in the same time, it makes me wonder what thoughts are occupying his head. But even though his face is dark and haunted, he's still heart stoppingly beautiful.

He frowns and exhaled sharply, his expression all of a sudden guarded as he faced the front. "Let's go?"

I couldn't seem to find my voice, still trapped in his lost look, so I resolved to giving him a brief nod.

What was that about?

We professionaly and gracefully clambered out of my car, already knowing which way to go since we had done this thrice in this day already, and quietly pad down to the police station.

"Well, what can I help you two kids with?" A tall man with brown hair and blue eyes who's probably in his mid twenties greets us, giving us a smile.

"We're looking for an officer, we really don't know his name but, he's tall, kind of lean and lanky and he's bald." I answered dryly, leaning forward on his desk.

The man laughs and slaps his desk. "Oh, you mean Officer Davies?" He shakes his head, amused. "Oh, that old man is on vacation. He's not here."

"What?" Marcus asks, disbelief palpable in his tone.

"Sir, are you sure he's not around?" I asked again, tapping my foot to release the nervous feeling while my stomach did a couple of cartwheels.

He grins, nodding. "Yep. Pretty sure he is. He just left this morning. Said he needed to relax, especially after two teenagers drove him crazy the other night."