Disconnected

Chapter Forty- Two

Daniella

I walk out of the bathroom and finish drying the remaining droplets of water on my hands by wiping them on the bottom of my shirt.

I lock my eyes on the back of the head of the officer behind this whole mess. It is taking everything inside of me not to jump on his back, force him to the ground, and claw his eyes out for doing this.

He is such an ass. How is he even a cop? He acts like an immature five year old throwing a temper tantrum. He can't act professional even if he tried his hardest. Grabbing me and acting like he is so entitled. Who does he think he is?

I take a deep breath and walk past him.

"Oh, Daniella!" He calls out for me. I roll my eyes. He calls for me as if we are long time best friends meeting up at the grocery store randomly. "Just the girl I wanted to see."

I turn and cross my arms over my chest. What does he have to say now? He's going to take Michael to trial and get him life without parole? The death penalty? What does he have in store for him? I am actually quite afraid to hear what he might say next. What if he asks me to testify against Michael for this crime? He does have the true story now. What if he uses what I said in court against him?

He ditches the men he was talking to and walks over to me. "I wanted to talk to you. I have something to tell you."

I sigh. "What is it?"

"We are willing to drop the charges against Michael." He smiles.

What is going on here? Ten minutes ago he was threatening to lock him up for life. Now he is just willing to brush this whole thing off his shoulder? This does not make sense.

"That's- that's great!" I shout, not knowing what else to say. If he is truly being honest with me, this is great news. If he has another motive with this, it would be slightly less great news.

Either way, Michael will not have to sit and rot in a cell for the rest of his life.

"On one condition." He smirks.

"What is it?" I would do anything to see Michael out of those terribly, metal cuffs.

What does he want? Money? A new car? An autograph for his kids? Free merchandise from the band for a year? His hospital bills paid? I can make all of that happen. The boys would work with me, I'm sure of it.

"You come out and have a drink with me." I step back and lean against the wall.

Is he serious?

"You're telling me if I go out and have a drink- just one drink- you will let him go and everything will just, disappear?" I ask to clarify, my hands waving in front of me.

This is absolutely crazy. He is really going to drop an assault charge because of a beer? One glass of wine? There has to be more to this.

He bites his bottom lip and nods.

"And he will go home tonight?" I ask, trying to figure out what the catch is.

He nods in response.

"When?"

"During our drink I'll have my men release him." He looks at the watch on his wrist. "An hour or so I would say."

"Swear on your life?" I ask. He lied to me once before. I can't risk him lying to me again.

He nods.

Something about this still seems fishy. Why would he come up with an idea like this? It just doesn't make any sense as to why this would be equal payment to sending Michael to jail forever.

It doesn't add up.

But I am done questioning his motives. I need Michael out of there as soon as possible.

"Fine. Let me go tell the others." I nod and walk towards the exit.

"I'll meet you outside." He smiles and waves as I walk away.

"We don't need the lawyer anymore." I break the good news to the boys. "They are dropping the charges."

The three of them jump up in excitement, nearly falling down the stairs.

"That's great!" Ashton shouts, pulling Luke in for a hug.

I smile as they celebrate.

"All I have to do is go have a drink with this guy and he said he will make everything go away. No one will ever know. And it won't be on his record." I stand on my toes, barely able to hold in my excitement to be able to hold Michael.

"Daniella," Calum steps in front of me. "Do you think going out to drink with this guy is really a good idea?" He asks.

"It'll only be one drink. And I won't even drink that much. Plus, he's a cop, what could happen?" I ask rhetorically.

I'll be fine. It's one drink.