Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
The question was, would he be pissed at me for trespassing, or would he be pissed that I didn’t follow his rules? The rules that he’d thrown at me as he’d walked out the door.
Don’t get in trouble. I have enough to deal with.
My guess would be a definite yes to both.
I shivered when I thought about what his reaction would be to hearing what Dusty had done to me.
And, to make matters worse, I was fairly sure that I was going to be black and blue all over and he wasn’t going to get to forget about it any time soon. Every time he saw me naked, he’d be seeing the marks on my body that were put there when I was fighting Dusty off.
Needless to say, if Tyler’s reaction to the tiny bruise I’d gotten out on the boat with Theo was anything to go by…well, he would very well flip his lid.
“Back up, put your feet on the black line,” the bored sheriff’s deputy drawled.
I did, shivering again.
Before the deputy could take the picture, the door to the room where I was, flew open and Johnny came barreling in, spitting fire.
I hadn’t known Johnny all that well growing up, but I had seen him on occasion over the years. But since I moved to Hostel, I’d gotten to know him much better since he was married to one of the women in our little group—June—whom I was beginning to think of as a good friend.
Seeing the thunder all over his face and his obvious aggression directed not at me, but the sheriff’s deputy on my behalf and my face fell as tears began to pool in my eyes. My eyes blinked furiously as I tried to keep the tears from falling.
“What the fuck, Matson?” Johnny thundered. “Why the fuck are you arresting her?”
Matson took the picture and I blinked as tiny white spots dotted my vision.
The camera they were using was one of those really old-fashioned ones that had a lamp that blinked with a bright light.
Needless to say, the bright light worked really well, so whenever I looked at the mugshot, I’d be able to see every single pore and blemish on my face—not to mention the chin hairs.
I hadn’t plucked those in a week and I was going to pay for it when I saw the results.
“I arrested her,” Deputy Matson said. “Because I was doing my job and you can’t just barge in here every time you don’t agree with an arrest I make. I don’t do that to you.”
“Actually,” Johnny said. “You walked in there and did that very thing to Tyler last week. Something about it being your sister-in-law? And, from what I understand, you’ve got Reagan on trespassing charges. Not on anything else. That’s downright stupid.”
I breathed in, then breathed out, trying to get control of myself.
It wasn’t working.
I’d managed to keep the tears at bay by sheer force of will, but I knew that was only because Tyler hadn’t yet arrived.
When he did, I knew that I would lose that battle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deputy Matson lied. “But it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m already done. She’s officially arrested.”
Johnny growled. “You put her in a jail cell and I’ll make you regret it.”
Deputy Matson blinked. “You can’t threaten me.”
Johnny laughed. “I. Just. Did.”
Johnny’s threats were enough at least for me to be seated in a chair inside the station and not in the jail cell with the women I saw through the clear glass wall.
One had been going to the bathroom, while the other had been staring not at me, but at Deputy Matson, like she wanted to kill him with her bare hands.
I would have gladly helped her if I hadn’t been in enough trouble of my own.
Deputy Matson was a real douche bag and after arguing with Johnny, I knew that he was also a hardass who wasn’t just doing his job, but he was being an asshole—with a badge—because, apparently, he didn’t get along with Tyler.
And, since everybody and their brother knew that Tyler and I were an item, that apathy for Tyler clearly transferred to me as well.
Awesome.
I sat there, counting the tiles on the ceiling and wondering if they’d replaced them lately—or ever.
It was a distraction that I was trying to force myself to concentrate on instead of the way that my palms stung or my back throbbed.
Everything hurt, too. My throat from screaming, my arms from hitting Dusty. Hell, even my ears hurt from shaking my head no and scraping the tips of my lobes on the freakin’ grass.
“Oh, shit.”
I heard the bikes before I saw anyone or anything.
They were loud and it was more than obvious that they were pissed off. Nobody rode that fast and hard, coming to that quick of a stop unless the riders were angry.