The Arrangement

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ashton

It's been a while since I've had to sit in a cell surrounded by the drunks of the night waiting for Carter to work his magic and get me out like he always does.

Yet as I sit here I find I'm a lot less agitated than I'd usually of been.

Them fuckers got exactly what they deserved after what I saw and in truth I think they came off lightly when I could have easily slit their fucking throats.

I can still see the guy's smug face, the way he had looked at her, touched her. It makes my blood boil all over again. They had it coming, every single one of them.

The thought of that makes me clench my fists unconsciously, feeling the remnants of adrenaline still coursing through me.

Despite the inconvenience, there's a strange sense of satisfaction settling within me. I did what needed to be done, and I'd do it again given the chance. It's not just about the fight; it's about the principle. No one touches her, not while I'm around. The protectiveness I feel for her is something I can't quite explain, even to myself, especially as I've done everything I can to avoid her. It's raw and instinctive, a force that drives me to act even when reason should hold me back.

As the hours drag on, I let my thoughts wander, planning my next moves, both for when Carter walks through those doors and for when I see her again. The night isn't over, not by a long shot, and I have a feeling that whatever comes next is going to change everything.

Carter's right. I need to give her a chance. It's pretty clear Henley and Lennox what her to stick around and I already knew Carter does, so I'm the problem. Although they've put up with it thus far, I doubt the others will continue to put up with me being the issue for much longer.

As I'm escorted to the interview room, the familiar clinking of handcuffs is a sound I've grown accustomed to. The officers are silent, their expressions neutral, as they lead me down the sterile hallway. It doesn't take long to figure out why I'm being given this particular treatment; Carter must have worked his magic once again. When they finally remove my cuffs and I step into the room, I'm greeted by the sight of my leather jacket tossed casually on the table. It's a small gesture, but it speaks volumes.

I barely have time to settle into the chair before the door swings open and Carter strides in, his expression a mix of irritation and something close to amusement. "When I said go and clear the air, this isn't exactly what I had in mind," he grumbles, casting a critical eye around the room before focusing his attention on me. Despite his words, the fact that he's here and not outright furious is a small victory. I'll take what I can get.

I stand up, grabbing my jacket and slipping it on, feeling the familiar weight and comfort, it provides. "Yeah, well, you also told me I needed an outlet to vent my frustrations," I reply, trying to lighten the mood with a smile. "Consider my frustrations vented."

Carter sighs, running a hand through his hair, a gesture I've seen countless times.  "you hospitalised all three of them" he says but he doesn't sound particularly disappointed about it.

"They're lucky to be alive" I grunt, my expression hard. "Especially after touching what doesn't belong to them"

Carter pauses, considering my words. His lips twitch as he tries to suppress a smirk, but it breaks through anyway. "Hmmm," he hums, shrugging with a casual air that belies the seriousness of the situation. "Can't say I disagree with you there."

For a moment, we're silent, the tension in the room easing slightly. It's a testament to our long-standing relationship that Carter understands my motives, even if he doesn't always condone my methods. He knows me better than anyone, knows the struggles I face and the lines I'm willing to cross when it comes to protecting those I care about.