Deliciously Damaged (Reckless Bastards MC 3)

I nodded and tried to get out of the car, but it was harder than getting in, with the steering wheel in the way. I finally made it out with a triumphant groan and turned back to get my phone, hissing out the pain as I reached across the seat to the center console.

“Got it.”

I grinned like I’d accomplished something really big, but I turned and found Haynes with his gun aimed at me and froze. My grin was gone and so was any goodwill I had for the man.

When he saw my phone he holstered his gun. Did he really think I was going to unload a pistol on him?

“We’ll have a uni come and get your car.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll drive myself.”

He sighed. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Well considering how twitchy you are, I think it is. So either I drive myself or I don’t go.”

The younger detective finally stepped from the car, his smarmy grin making me want to punch him in his weasel face. “You’re coming with us,” he insisted firmly.

I ignored him, my gaze staying on Haynes. “Am I under arrest or being detained?”

“No, we’re not arresting you. We have some questions. As well as a few concerns about your safety.”

“Then, I’ll be right behind you.” He gave a reluctant nod and tried one more time, but I brushed him off. “Someone must be dead if you’re suddenly giving a shit about me.”

His lack of response kept me on high alert, shaken and anxious the entire ride back to LVMPD. I was tired, sweaty and in too much pain to even contemplate things like manners and being polite. I parked on the street and stepped out, looking up at the white building. I’d rather be anywhere else than walk inside, yet I crossed the street where Haynes waited for me.

His bushy eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you all right?”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Detective. Let’s just get this over with.” I followed him inside the precinct, buzzing with activity, or at least seeming to do so. They were probably letting all the calls go to voicemail and playing solitaire or on Facebook. The room was so bare and stereotypical it had to be an interrogation room. I sat gingerly on the edge of one of the hard metal chairs that had a fucking wobble.

“So what is it you want with me? I have places to go and people to see.”

He sighed and waited a long minute until Detective Napoleon Complex joined us. “Where were you last night?”

“At home, where I’ve been for the past nine days. Recovering. And no, there’s no one to confirm that.” I really wished I could have crossed my arms, so I could glare at them and let both men know they didn’t scare me.

“That’s too bad,” Dodds said and slid several pictures across the table. Pictures of a woman with stringy black hair, grey jeans and a lacy black tank top. With her face beaten and swollen the way it was, she could have been anyone. But the hummingbird tattoo between her thumb and forefinger, and the Claddagh ring on her right hand with the sapphire birthstone inside told me exactly who it was.

“Krissy. What happened to her?” I looked at Haynes because dealing with the rookie might end up with me in handcuffs.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Anything you want to tell us?” Dodds leaned forward, smacking his hand on the lopsided metal table.

“I have a few things I’d like to tell you, little man.”

He was on his feet, leaning over the table in seconds, his face red, spit flying out of his mouth as he called me every name he could think of. No matter what he said, though, he couldn’t intimidate me. I barked back at him, “If this is how you treat crime victims, I’ll be sure to let everyone know.”

Pushing off the table with my left hand, I stood and stared down at Haynes, shaking my head.

“We both know you’re no fucking victim, Mandy.” He spat my name out like it left a bad taste on his tongue. “Tell us what happened and maybe you won’t end up in prison for the rest of your life.”

I laughed. “I’ll tell you two things, Officer Dodd. One,” I held up my left forefinger, “if I could swing a punch right now, it would be worth the assaulting an officer charge. Two, I’m leaving.”

“I don’t think so.” He blocked my path and my left hand bunched and flexed, aching to knock his little ass out.

“So I’m being arrested? Great.” I took a step back and smiled. “Lawyer.”

Haynes groaned because I knew he’d been trying to avoid it. Cops hated when you exercised your rights. “Don’t leave town, Ms. Sutton.”

“Whatever. Try not to get me killed while you guys do your job, if you remember what that is.”