Anything For Grace

Chapter 1

Penelope's POV...

"Bryan!" A gruff, country voice booms and the sound of a rubber stick banging against the metal bars clung through my ears. My eyes blinked and my hand immediately swipes at my face. "Bryan, get up. You're next for a phone call." He bangs twice against the bars, bang bang! I jolt up and looked around, fuck. I'm still behind bars; I had assumed this all was a dream. Before the officer changed his mind, I stood up, barely able to stand the sight of light and too dizzy to take two steps.

He grabs my arm, escorting me to the phone booth. I grunted against him, wanting him to take his crummy hands from off me, but he didn't care for personal space. "You have one call, you better make it count." He jerks his hand off me, leaving a stinging sensation that made my arm red with his thick monstrous fingerprints.

I sigh and take a deep breath. I was still hungover from last night and I have no recollection of a number to call. If Officer Kent was in, I wouldn't have to go through this. If I wasn't bombed, I wouldn't have to go through this. Who to call?

I lean against the wall, trying to compose myself to call someone, but all I could see was a fixture of illusions in my vision. The room was spinning and if I opened my mouth, vomit was going to splatter everywhere.

Fuck, Penelope! How much did you drink last night?

Focus, Penelope. Who are you calling? Whose number do you remember?

"C-can I have my p-phone?" I stammered, holding my chest.

"No, now call or your turn will pass up." The irritated officer responds with no remorse in his voice. "You have five minutes."

I sigh and hang my head. Fuck, I don't know anyone's number by heart. I pick up the phone, and hold my temple. Rattling my mushed brain, all I could think was to call Harper. If only I could remember her phone number. I look at the numbers and tried to remember her sequence. I have to go from memory and hopefully I get it right.

My fingers dance across the numbers and I dial Harper, praying it was the right sequence: 798-6294. I press the grimy phone against my cheek and use the wall as a holding post, balancing myself while my legs haven't fully woken up.

The phone rings three times before I hear Harper's sweet voice bark, "Who is this?"

I gasped with shock as I actually got her number right. "Harper! Harper, hey."

Her voice flipped from agile to a more concerned tone. "Penelope? What are you doing in jail? What happened?"

I wave my hand, feeling my throat become raw and shutter from nauseous. "Hey. It's a huge misunderstanding and I need your help. I need you to bail me out."

Harper stammers a little, not comprehending my situation. "Why do I need to bail you out?"

"Harper, I can't answer many questions right now. I don't have a lot of time."

Although Harper was invested to know more of my situation, she was caught between a rock and a hard spot. "I'm at work right now."

"I get that. It's super inconvenient." I dry-heaved, covering my mouth in hope to catch anything coming out. I swallow a dryness and felt myself sweating.

"I have so many questions. First, how much is your bail?" I hated asking for help from Harper; she would follow-up with a billion questions and it takes too long. I didn't have long to answer her questions.

In an attempt to hold down my bile, a squeal heaves, "$5,000."

Harper gasps, stuttering at my warrant. "F-five thous-! What the fuck did you do?"