URGENT (Book 2 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 43: Nice Guys Refuse To Propose Again

Adam

"Let's go," Officer Randall says tersely as he opens the door.

I nod grimly. I guess this is the part where I get booked, officially.

"Do I get a phone call?" That's a stupid question. There's no one I need to call. I know Mac. There's no doubt in my mind she's here. I know she's called Dawes. And Trace. I'm sure they already have the lawyers on this. Honestly, if I do get a call, it would be to my mom. I can't stand the thought of her hearing I've been arrested, and not knowing the details. I want to tell her first—that I'm okay, that I did what I had to do, that it was just one punch and I didn't hurt anybody. Not really.

That British bastard is fine. I just busted his lip, is all. I wanted to rip those fucking piercings right off his face, and break his goddamn hand for grabbing Mac. When I saw his hand on her—the expression on her face—like she couldn't breathe, like she was seconds from either passing out or throwing up...

Well, there was no question. There was nothing to question, because there was no thought. There was only reaction. He was threatening what is mine to protect. Mac and Babycakes.

I stopped him. I'd do it again. I'd do worse. Much worse, if I had to.

The cop shakes his head. "No need. You are free to go. Thanks to her." He jerked his head and I followed the motion. Mac was standing in a small room behind glass, fierce as fucking ever, phone to her ear. "I don't know what she said to Clavendish, because he was already lawyered up, to make sure the charges stuck. Three minutes with her, and he reversed course," he shrugged. "You got lucky."

"Officer, you have no idea," I say softly, gratitude and amazement warring with guilt and shame as I stare at the most amazing thing that will ever come into my life. Fuck. Mac talked Dev out of pressing charges. I have no idea how she did it—how she stuffed down her own panic and anxiety to persuade him, because when I saw her with him at the club, she was on the edge. I saw it in her eyes. She was close to another flashback. Somehow, she summoned the strength to pull herself back.

That five-foot-two shortcake is a stone cold killer when she has to be.

But she shouldn't have to be. She should never have had to face Dev alone. That's my mistake. I thought I was protecting her, and all I did was put her in a position where I couldn't be there to protect her.

Christ. It's time to grow the fuck up. I make a vow to myself right then and there—no more immature shit. No more throwing punches first and asking questions later, and leaving Mac to clean up my messes for me. Somehow I have to find a better way to protect them.

The cop smiles. "Collect your personals, Heartley." He means Mac. They let me hand off my real valuables at the club and they didn't take my wallet yet, because I hadn't been booked. I nod. He gestures at the exit door to the lobby. "The desk sergeant will buzz you out."

"Thank you," I nod, already on my way toward Mac.

I jerk open the door, opening my arms to thank her, comfort her, but she puts out a hand to stop me. The expression on her face is really what stops me in my tracks, though.

Pure fury.

Yeah, okay. I probably deserve that. What I did was stupid. And she had to make it right.

"Mac—I'm so sorr—"

"Phone's for you," Her voice is pure venom as she slaps it into my hand and pushes past me, heading for the exit.

I look down at my phone, the lump in my throat falling to the pit of my stomach as I see that it's Marley on the line and the call...and the call is six minutes in.