“Yeah, well, I must have missed it. Gotta go.”
Knox moved his large body to block her from entering the diner. “You can come back later for what you were in such a hurry to get that you couldn’t take the crosswalk. Follow me to the office. I’m going to write you a ticket.”
“Dude, I just crossed the street. I didn’t rob the fucking bank,” she snapped, trying to step around him.
“Go, Killyama. I’m not joking.” Knox tried to take her arm, but Killyama jerked back from his reach.
“I seriously don’t like to be manhandled.” Her temper rose when he tried to reach for her again. “Diamond will k—” Her mouth dropped open when she found herself pinned against the diner’s door. Her reflex was to fight him, but seeing the faces of the diners inside staring stopped her. “Asshole, you’re going to be working at the factory when I get done suing you.”
She felt the handcuffs clipped around her wrists before Knox turned her around to face him.
“You ready to walk to my office now, or am I going to have to carry you?”
Killyama kicked the coffee cup where Knox must have dropped it when he had handcuffed her.
“I guess you’ll be carrying me, you—”
“You just added littering with malice to your charges,” Knox stated grimly.
“What charges!” she screeched. Killyama forgot she hadn’t planned on going with him as she tried to keep up with his angry strides.
“Jay walking, littering with malice—”
“Is that even a charge? I’ve never heard of that before?”
“… disorderly conduct, resisting arrest,” Knox continued at he opened the door to the sheriff’s office.
“How can you get me for littering? It was your coffee cup.”
Knox skirted the counter where a tramp who had to be seventy years old was wearing a bright pink blouse that made her orange complexation stand out so much that Killyama wished she had borrowed Sex Piston’s sunglasses.
Killyama expected Knox to sit her down on one of the chairs by a desk, but he kept going toward the back.
She looked back at the tramp. “Call Diamond and tell her that her husband has flipped his lid.”
It was when she was locked in a cell that she truly believed he was serious.
“Knox, this isn’t funny. At least unlock my handcuffs.”
“Turn around.”
She turned around, looking over her shoulder as she watched him unlock the handcuffs. “I get a phone call,” she snarled.
“I’ll get to it when I’m done booking you. Take a seat. It’s going to be a while.”
“Son of a bitch, when I get out of here, I’ll own this fucking town,” she yelled as Knox left.
Ranting until she ran out of steam, she then paced back and forth, waiting for Knox to come back and release her.
Surely Lily would become worried when she didn’t come back to the church store. Sex Piston would also get worried when she didn’t make it back to Jamestown.
Sitting down on the bunk, she stared morosely at the wall facing the cell, seeing wanted posters. Bored, she started reading them.
When the door opened, it took her a second to look. Then, when she saw Train, she started yelling at him before he could take a step into the room.
“Fucking hell! Are you—”
Train went back out the door, closing it.
Not letting up from screaming at him, she called him every cuss word she could think of and even made some up when she couldn’t think of anymore.
Frustrated at his lack of response, she finally shut up and sat back down on the bunk. Ten minutes later, when Train came back inside the cell room, she ignored him, continuing to read the wanted posters.
“Look at me.”
She pointedly laid down on the bunk, staring up at the ceiling.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Train lean against the cell, crossing his arms against his chest.
“I can stand here all night. I’m not leaving until we get everything straightened out between us.”
“There’s nothing to straighten out.” Still refusing to look at him, she started counting ceiling tiles.
“You know there is, and you running away to Knoxville won’t solve it.”
“I’m not running from you. Why should I run when I can just kick your ass?”
“Because you love me, and you would rather move to Knoxville and uproot your mama than admit it.”
“She needs to be uprooted. That tin can she calls a home will blow away with the next big storm coming our way.”
“It’s her choice to make, not yours. And that’s not why you’re doing it. You love—”
Jumping off the bunk bed, she screamed at him, “I do not love you!”
“You love me so much that it terrifies you.” Train turned toward her. “I got the present you sent me yesterday. I put it on my bike. That kick back whip you sent me is black and red—”
“I didn’t send you anything,” she denied.
“When Stud gives me the go-ahead, I’ll have to take it off. You’ll have to buy me another one with blue and black colors.” Train’s sincere eyes stared into hers.