Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Why?”
“Because we don’t give a fuck.” A chuckle escapes me. “My dad would have been a Hoodlum in his day.”
“The cops hate me too,” she murmurs. “Well, one in particular.”
“Because of Terrence?”
“Ryan.” She swallows, fear glinting in her blue eyes. “I keep waiting for it all to catch up to me. I filled out a police report and filed a restraining order. That has to be embarrassing for Michael.”
“His kid shouldn’t be such a douchebag then.”
I flit my eyes up to the rearview mirror to see what’s taking so long. There’s another cruiser behind Winslow’s. My stomach twists painfully. I bite back a curse so as not to alarm Charlotte.
Winslow and another officer approach my truck. Apprehension claws at me. If it were just me, I’d lash into these pigs, but it’s not just me. I have Charlotte to think about.
“Let me do the talking,” I say to her, pinning her with a firm stare. “Please.”
Winslow clears his throat when he makes it back to my window. “Hutton, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”
“Why?” I demand, my temper flaring to unhealthy degrees. “I was speeding.”
“I just want to talk to you,” Winslow snaps. “And I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your little girlfriend.”
“Whatever you have to say to me, Charlotte can hear—” I start, but I’m cut off when she screeches.
Whipping my head toward her, I find Officer Cuntingham wrenching the door open and glowering at her, waves of intimidation rolling off him.
“Back the fuck off,” I bark out at him. “You have no business talking to her.”
“Out of the car, Hutton,” Winslow barks as he opens my door.
Everything is happening too quickly. I can’t form thoughts. Only panic. I’m seized with the need to protect her at all costs.
“Miss English, get out of the car,” Cuntingham bellows, making her flinch.
Fuck.
“Dude, call another goddamn officer here because it’s a conflict of fucking interest to even be talking to her,” I snap at Cuntingham.
His hate-filled eyes meet mine as he grabs her wrist and unbuckles her seat belt. She screams, reaching for me. My hand snags hers, but Winslow’s brute ass is already yanking me out of the truck. I try to hold on to her, but we’re torn apart.
I fucking lose it.
Twisting around, I swing at this asshole. He’s anticipating my hit because he dodges it and then body slams me to the ground. The gravel from the asphalt digs painfully into my chin as he presses a knee to my back, handcuffing me.
Charlotte shrieks again.
I turn my head, looking for her under the truck. On the other side, I can see their legs. Cuntingham stands too close to her. I can’t hear what he’s saying or see what he’s doing, but I don’t trust that asshole one bit.
Winslow kneels beside me. “You’re in deep shit, kid.”
“For fucking speeding?” I roar. “Get off your high horse, Winslow, and write me a goddamn ticket already.”
“Nah, man,” he mutters. “You know what you did. Assaulting my buddy’s kid.”
I wonder if Ryan told his daddy I carved my name in his dick.
I can’t help but smirk knowing his dick burns like a bitch.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I do suggest you read me my rights and take me to the fucking station if that’s your intent. Otherwise, handcuffing me for no reason is illegal.”
Winslow puffs out an irritated breath. “Shut up.”
I do shut up, though, when I hear Charlotte whimper. What the fuck is he saying to her? When Winslow relaxes his guard, I launch myself to my feet, pushing past him to round the vehicle.
Red.
I see red.
A rage-filled growl bursts out of me as I charge at this fucker. He has her pressed against the side of my truck, his hand on her throat as he snarls at her, his nose practically touching hers. She’s trembling in fear. I slam my shoulder into his, sending him sailing. Winslow already has my bicep, dragging me back before I can reach her.
Her teary eyes meet mine, pleading for help. This girl is terrified, and I can’t do shit because my hands are cuffed.
I start running my mouth, hoping like fuck it works.
“Winslow, do you want to lose your job?” I grind out. “He can’t talk to her because she’s filed a restraining order against his son. He’s clearly trying to intimidate her. You might get away with it right now, but I can guarantee her fucking dad isn’t going to be okay with this. Let him come get her and you can do whatever shit you want to me. Leave her out of it.”
“Shut up,” Cuntingham snaps.
“Michael.” Winslow’s voice is unsure. “That true?”
Cuntingham doesn’t look at him, just glares at me with hatred in his eyes.
“English,” I bark out. “Call your dad. Now.”
She pulls her phone from her pocket and dials. The policemen don’t stop her, which goes to show they know they’re fucking with the wrong man.