I had been reduced to a rabid, wild animal as I paced my cell. It had been an entire fucking week since Lake walked out of here with her life in the balance. I told her to fight. I told her she’d win. Had I been wrong? In some way, had I caused her death or saved her?
Not one person came by to see me or answered my phone calls. I began to think they were all dead, and just when the possibility became more real, I was given the first sign of life.
“You’re lawyer’s here,” the guard announced. I couldn’t let him cuff me fast enough. Once he did, he led me to the rooms used for lawyer visitation. Thompson was sitting there along with the idiot detective. The one whose nose I’d broken was nowhere to be found.
“Masters, today might be a good day for you,” the detective greeted. I kept my anger in check because answers were more important to me, and I wouldn’t get any if I had to be dragged back to my cell.
“Why am I here?” I directed my question at Thompson and ignored the detective.
“You’re being released.”
“Come again?” I felt the detective’s stare and fought to keep my composure. I told myself if this were a trick, my lawyer wouldn’t be here.
“Your father’s murderer has been apprehended, but you’ll be required to testify at the trial to give your account of what took place here a week ago when Gregory Finch kidnapped Lake Monroe in order to blackmail a false confession from you.”
Lake was alive?
She had to be.
Only she and I knew what took place here other than Greg.
“Is that what happened?” the detective asked. I did look at him then. I wasn’t required to answer him, but I decided not to make this last any longer than necessary.
I nodded and turned my attention back to my attorney. “Is Lake okay? Where is she?”
“She’s waiting for you. We just need to get your statement to start the process. It should only be a matter of hours before you’re released.”
He slid over the papers displayed out in front of him while the detective excused himself. After the paperwork was filed, he stood and collected the papers along with his briefcase. I called out to him before he could leave. Lake once told me a smile and a thank you went a long way after I complained about the plain cheese pizza she brought home one night. Who eats pizza without meat?
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
He smiled then and laughed as if I told a joke. Had I said it wrong?
“You need to go home, shower, buy some flowers, and figure out a way to thank your girlfriend. She did it.”
He left then and I let him go. The guard came in and escorted me back to my cell. I didn’t remember the walk back or the clang of the cell door shutting for what I hoped was the last time. I could only think about her.
She did it.
*
Thompson made good on his promise, and I was released three hours later. I stepped out into the Nevada heat and was greeted by Lake as she sat cross-legged on the hood of my car parked at the curb.
“Hey there, handsome. I was told you may need a ride home and a pretty thing to get you there.”
“And you were duped into doing the dastardly deed?” I played along as I descended the short steps. It took everything not to run just to touch her. I finally stood in front of her as she slid down the hood and opened her legs.
“Nope.” She grabbed my shirt and kissed me hard. “I volunteered.”
“Is everyone okay? Dash?”
“Everyone is fine, and so is Dash.” She smiled as she kissed me again. “He handled surgery like a boss.”
I didn’t need the details to know he was likely shot protecting Lake. Thanking him and seeing for myself that he was okay couldn’t wait.
“Take me to see him.” She nodded and I gave her room to help her down. “Should I drive?”
“No, I got this,” she stated with a cocky undertone. I slid low in my seat and turned so I could watch her. She handled my car with ease, and I could feel my dick rock up just watching her drive.
“You’re really good at that.”
She glanced at me with a confused frown. “What?”
“Taking the driver’s seat. It’s sexy.” I used to thrive on her fear but seeing her be so…fearless—for lack of a better word—was even more exciting.
“My driving turns you on?” she asked incredulously.
“It was a metaphor, baby.”
“Oh,” she simply said, but the blush that colored her cheeks told me she was thinking a lot more than she let on.
“What are you thinking?”
“About your metaphor?”
“My metaphor made you blush?”
“No. I, umm… I just like when you call me baby. I haven’t heard it in a couple of weeks. It makes me feel like a virgin all over again.”
Yeah… My dick definitely likes that.
But instead of responding to my baser urges, I cleared my throat of the nerves that built up and got serious.
“How did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Get away from him and get me released.”