The state I'm in COMPLETED

First storm

Taming my anger, I reached into the storage compartment and handed the officer my license and registration, neatly folded. He was young—early thirties, maybe—tall, well-built, and clean-shaven. His expression was unreadable as he studied my documents, the harsh glare of his flashlight shifting from the papers to my face.

"Get out of the car, Miss Cameron," he ordered, his tone sharp, authoritative.

My stomach clenched. "What seems to be the problem?"

Before the officer could respond, I heard Harry's voice from behind. "What's going on?"

I turned to see him walking toward us, helmet in one hand, the other pushing his hair back. He had just parked his bike behind me.

"Stay out of this, Harry," I said firmly, giving him a look that begged him not to escalate things. He didn't move, but I could feel his tension.

The officer ignored Harry's presence completely. "Miss, have you been drinking tonight?"

"No, sir," I answered, keeping my voice steady.

"What's the problem? She wasn't speeding, she hasn't been drinking—what is this?" Harry's frustration was growing, his voice edged with suspicion.

Again, the officer acted as if Harry wasn't even there. "Miss, please breathe into this device."

I had nothing to be afraid of—I hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all night. Between taking orders and running back and forth, drinking hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Okay," I agreed, blowing into the small breathalyser.

He checked the reading, then looked up at me with a raised brow. "Miss, you're over the legal limit."

I blinked, certain I had misheard him. "That's impossible."

"I haven't had a single drink," I protested, my voice rising. "There must be a mistake."

"That's not what the test shows," he replied coolly, slipping the device into a nylon evidence bag in his pocket.

Harry stepped closer, eyes blazing. "Let me see that."

The officer pulled another device from his jacket and held it up. The screen displayed 29. The legal limit was 22.

"What the fuck?! You switched it! You put it in your other pocket—what the fuck is going on?" Harry exploded, stepping forward as if he was ready to rip the test from the officer's hands.

I quickly stepped between them, pushing Harry back. "Harry, don't—"

The officer finally turned to acknowledge him. "Sir, if you don't back off, I'll arrest you for obstruction of justice."

Harry's jaw clenched so hard I thought he might shatter his teeth.

The officer smirked and turned his attention back to me. "Miss, normally, you'd be arrested, taken to the department to be charged, and held until you sober up... but today, I'm feeling generous. Consider this your lucky day."

The irony of that statement made me sick.

Harry wasn't backing down. "No, go ahead! Arrest her! Let's see that damn device tested. Check the DNA on it, you—"

"Harry, stop it. Right now," I interrupted, desperation creeping into my voice. "If you get arrested, I'll be left alone... alone."