Miranda screeched as two men grabbed her boyfriend.
Harold cursed and swung, doing his best to get free.
But the two saviours never let go, quickly grabbing Harold’s flailing arms and wrenching them behind his back. Their uniforms filled my vision with legal domination, a gold shield stitched on the sleeve, and an array of weapons, badges, and tools.
In my painful haze, I witnessed them slap handcuffs on Harold and stand squarely in resplendent livery. “Anything you do and say can be used against you. I would calm down, buddy, before you do something you regret.” Their French accents were thick and commanding.
Harold spat at one of them. He missed. “Fuck you.”
Before the cop could retaliate, Simone wrung her hands. “Thank goodness you’re here!” She danced out of the way as the two cops nodded curtly and manhandled a very uncooperative Harold forward.
Harold kicked out, connecting with an officer’s knee. “Unhand me, you son of a bitch!”
Not showing any sign of being injured, the older cop with greying hair growled. “Refusing a direct order will result in nasty consequences, sir. Kick me again, and you’re in trouble.” Shoving Harold against the same wall I’d been beaten against, he added, “Stand up. As I said, you’re under arrest.”
“Bullshit, I am!” Harold fought harder against the cuffs. “Don’t you know who I am? Who my father is? You’ve just lost your jobs, you cunt.”
“No need for profanity, sir,” the younger cop muttered. He stepped back a little, eyeing his trussed-up prisoner. “You’re the one who committed the crime of assaulting this young woman, not us.”
“Why you fucking—” Harold’s face twisted with such fury, I blanched. His mask of acrimony granted a flashback to the white mansion and Alrik slicing my tongue.
I closed my eyes, doing my best to dispel such terrible memories. When I opened them again, I noticed Callie—the blonde girl who’d run off—lurking behind the cops. She waved at Simone for her to join her.
Simone obeyed, moving toward her and smiling in thanks. However, her eyes never left mine as she said to the cops, “We need to help this poor girl. She said she was sold. That she was tormented. My family will pay if she needs to see a doctor or anything like that.”
Once again, my chest swelled with gratitude.
I flinched as a cop came toward me, ducking down on his haunches. “That true, miss?”
I didn’t answer.
After a few seconds of frowning at my silence, he looked back at Simone. “Don’t worry. We’ll take it from here and provide excellent care for her.”
Ice cubes settled in my belly.
What does that mean?
“What do you mean?” Simone asked on my behalf. “I want to help.”
Ignoring Simone, the younger cop with kind hazel eyes and a mop of brown hair stood from his crouch and captured my elbow.
My skin crawled beneath his touch, but I forced myself to focus on his uniform and the goodness on his face and find some element of trust to help him brace my bruised weight to stand.
“Come along, miss. We’ll have someone look at you and listen to what you have to say.”
I grimaced as my muscles pounded from Harold’s kicks and my kneecaps seized. My ribs hurt, my eye had swollen, and my cheek still burned from Miranda’s slap. Even though the cop said the right things, it was the things he didn’t say that churned my blood into rancid butter.
There was something else. Something he hadn’t said yet.
“What the fuck?” Miranda planted her hands on her hips, reminding me that her conquest to make me suffer hadn’t been fulfilled. “She robbed us. She deserves to go to jail, not treated like some fragile flower.” Stomping her foot, she demanded, “Let my boyfriend go. He was only teaching this stupid thief a lesson. This is all her fault.”
The older cop narrowed his eyes, using the words of his colleague but in an entirely different tone. “Is that true? Did you steal from these girls?”
I waited for Miranda to condemn me, but strangely, it was the blonde this time. Now that there was no threat of bloodshed, she returned to her prissy ways. “We caught her red-handed stealing purses from our bags.”
The young cop’s hold on my elbow tightened, becoming more shackle than support. “Time to speak, miss. Tell us the truth.”
I bowed my head. My voice became a frightened passenger, slipping down my throat to hide.
Simone answered for me. “Can’t you see she has issues? What if she was stealing ‘cause she has nothing? Maybe she just escaped from the men who bought her and needs our help instead of our judgment?”
“Ugh, what a crock of shit!” Miranda threw her hands up. “She’s lying to you, Simone. There is no way anything she said is true.”
I didn’t open my mouth to defend myself. There was no point.
Harold stood taller, seeing yet another opportunity to make me pay, even if it wasn’t by his fists. He became a chameleon—shedding his fierce brutality, replacing it with concerned chivalry. “I was just protecting my woman, officer. That girl is a thief and a liar. She put my girlfriend in danger. She robbed them. If anyone deserves to be arrested, it’s her.”
The young cop pulled me away from the wall, disgust replacing his compassion. “Speak now if you want to deny those accusations, miss. Otherwise, you’re coming with us.”
I shrivelled.
Rusty blood tainted my tongue.
My mind swam from being struck in the head.
I wanted to deny it so much. I wanted to lie, but I’d already committed one crime. I wouldn’t add another to that tally.
Simone darted forward, taking my other elbow. I didn’t owe this girl a thing, yet she continued to fight for me. Under normal circumstances, I would thank her profusely and beg to be her friend. I’d never met a girl like her—not in my past and not since Elder found me.
It would be so nice to have a female friend. Someone who would listen and sympathise what I’d lived through. I could talk to her about Elder and ask her opinion. She could tell me if I did the right thing by leaving, or if I’d been ridiculously stupid to walk away from the man who’d not only rescued me but given me back the will to live.
You did it for him.
I kept forgetting that part. I kept forgetting the agony I nursed was to protect him not me.
My silence irritated the officers.
Their patience ran out.
“Right, seeing as one of you is sprouting nonsense and another refuses to say a word, I guess we’ll have to bring both of you in.” The older policeman yanked Harold toward the busy road where rubberneckers tried to ease their rampant curiosity. “Let’s go.”
The young cop dragged me forward. “You, too.”
I went willingly, offering no refusal. A few stumbles and limps but I didn’t fight. Not that I could with the new aches and pains Harold had granted me.
Simone cried, “Wait, where are you taking her?”