Brady Remington Landed Me in Jail

"Deputy Dog!" Brady heralded. "Who do I have to thank for this hospitable visit?"

Deputy Doug stamped harder on a different pile of papers. "You don't have to thank no one, Brady."

Brady lifted his arms, turned back around, and another officer took off the handcuffs. When my best friend caught sight of me, the sparkling blue eyes sobered. "Heya, Rayna."

A tingle shot through my toes from his soft tone, but I clamped down on it. I didn't need to be getting hot and bothered by him, not tonight. Not ever.

When he took the papers from Deputy Doug, his shoulders tensed. I moved to his side and took the papers.

"Hey!" Brady protested.

I shooed him away. "We all know who can read here."

Brady frowned.

The papers read another court date where Brady would have to appear for assault charges. "You're charging him!" I cried out, but then remembered Deputy Doug's initial frustration.

"Well…" Deputy Doug glanced from Brady to me, but shook his head. "I just told you, Rayna. He assaulted Kidrick Stephens. We have witnesses that corroborate this. Mr. Stephens won't let this go away. He's not like the rest."

"It doesn't matter," I breathed out.

"Frank Stephens is an ass. I'll gladly see him in court," Brady growled.

I turned to see the Heat of the Moment Brady, where he'd do anything if it meant he would stand up for his beliefs. Most days that meant fighting, but this time was different. I realized that Brady wanted to see this thing through.

He ripped the papers out of my hands. "I'll see Frank Stephens in court. I have no problem dealing with him." And with that parting statement, he stormed out.

"Brady…" I was still reeling from confusion.

The door slammed shut on his heel.

Deputy Doug raised a hand to scratch his forehead. His fingers moved his comb-over backwards.

"What just happened?"

Deputy Doug leaned forward. He crinkled the papers on the counter. "You need to talk to him, Rayna. Brady messed up. He messed up real good this time. You know me. You know me and everyone else in town. We take kindly to Brady. I mean, we all feel like he's our own boy cause of the way he showed up and how the Forresters took him in. We've all been through his struggles with the shoplifting and the boozing and the fighting—he still does the last two, but you know what I mean. He's become a good man, kind of. I'd hate to think that he's… We all know what happens if you get something on your record when you're an adult. It don't get erased that easy."

He stared at me with weary eyes and I took the papers that Brady had left behind. He had the car running and the passenger door opened for me. As soon as I got inside, he shot around and I fell across the seat into his lap.

"Hey!"

Brady enfolded me against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around my waist and pinned me in place. I was helpless to move…and I didn't know if I wanted to…

"Brady. This is enough. Safety first. Being pissy later." I tried to ignore the pounding heartbeat in my ears. This was not the time for my stupid crush to act up.

Brady's tense jaw didn't agree with me. His shoulder muscles were bunched together and they only moved when his arm jerked to steer the car. I knew he really didn't agree when I saw his jaw clench and his Adam's apple bob, stop midway, and stay there. I couldn't make out his eyes; and I suddenly wanted too. Badly.

An unnerving emotion washed over me.

Brady was fallible, that had never been questioned, but the fact that he might regret his fights—that had never been considered. When he fought, there was always a reason behind it. Someone got hurt, insulted, disrespected. He never fought with bad intentions; it was always to protect others. There was something about him that made people believe in him. Brady bulldozed his way through anything and anyone. He'd apologize if he was wrong later, but he never never regretted his initial decision.

‘He’s scared.' My hand started to shake slightly. I'd never seen Brady scared. I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit.

"You can let me go." I felt like it was the right thing to say. Was it?

Brady didn't move. Instead, he slammed on the brakes and cursed. Then he pounded his hand against the steering wheel.

"Brad..d..y," my voice trembled. I hoped he hadn't caught it. So many things were off. The night started out wrong and it was only going to get worse. I opened my mouth—to what, I didn't know. I felt like I needed to apologize to him because I realized that I'd never comforted him. I felt like I needed to bully him how he always bullied me.

I was ashamed in that moment. And then—I watched, mesmerized, as Brady collapsed right before my eyes. His shoulders slumped. His face closed off and he seemed to crumble in front of me.

"Hey," I murmured as I sat up and cupped his face. As I did, I was aware of how close we were…and was it hot in here? I was about to burst into flame. Then I felt Brady turn and cup my face in turn.