Tricia
I ripped the ballpoint pen out of Kiddo's hand to stop him from signing whatever bullshit this lawyer had drawn up for him.
Apparently, that in itself is a bad move inside an interrogation room. Next thing I knew, I was thrown against the wall, face first, my hands being pinned at my lower back.
"No touching our prisoners while they're in our charge." David Steinman's breath was hot against my ear, his body pressing just a little too close against me.
Like he was enjoying it.
Too damn much.
Icy fear trickled down my spine.
Suddenly, I wasn't sure of anything.
"Get your fucking hands off her!" Kiddo's voice roared from his seat. The clank of chains drew my awareness to the floor as I peeked behind me, noticing for the first time that his ankles were chained to the floor even though his hands weren't handcuffed.
What the fuck? They were treating him like a serial killer or something.
Steinman was wrenched off of me by Rogan, the two standing nose to nose as if they were about to start throwing punches.
"Please don't touch my material witness," Rogan hissed.
"Material witness," Steinman repeated on a snort. "Witness to what?"
Neither of them looked like the normal sort of law-enforcing officials. Steinman in that moment looked more like a predator than any of the HSC members I'd worked with over the last couple of years.
And this Rogan guy? Well, I didn't know a lot about him. Barely enough to trust him... and only because I had no other options at the moment.
Rogan's eyes swung back to mine. "Tricia, I'll ask you one more time. Is this the guy?"
"Tricia, no," Kiddo hissed from somewhere behind me.
This time, I ignored him. Tilting my chin, higher, I gave Rogan a nod. "That's the guy."
The smirk that lifted Rogan's lips would have been terrifying except for the fact I wasn't sure who to be scared of anymore. Wrong was right, up was down...
Nothing made sense anymore.
"David Steinman, you are under arrest for the purchase of methamphetamines from one Juan Alejos of the Impyernos Car Club..."
Rogan continued with the reading of David's rights as I finally allowed myself to meet Kiddo's eyes again.
Concern pinched the corners and his mouth turned down into a frown as he shook his head at me. "What have you done, Tricia?"
"Yes," Steinman growled, glaring right at me. "What have you fucking done, little girl?" Then, he turned to Rogan. "I want a lawyer," David sneered. Rogan's smile simply grew as he slapped the handcuffs on David's wrists.
"Is that really necessary?" David asked, gesturing to the handcuffs.
"About as necessary as chaining Miles's ankles to the floor," Rogan responded as yanked Steinman by the elbow, dragging him out of the room and handing him off to a detective outside of the door. "Take him into one of the rooms across the hall. I want one without a two-way and shut the cameras off."
"But he's a district atto—"
"Do it," Rogan spat, yanking his badge open and shoving it in the detectives face.
With a gulp, the detective nodded. "Yes, sir."
"I want my phone call!" David shouted. "Someone get me Enzo Chiccarini on the phone right fucking now."
YOU ARE READING
The Prospect
RomanceKiddo almost has everything he's ever wanted. As a Prospect with Boston's notorious car club, the Harrison Street Crew, he's finally found the family he never had as a kid. The only thing missing? The love of his life since their first kiss in middl...
