A Long List of Firsts: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

“Casey?” she shouted, marching away from her car and towards where the cops were leading her ex-girlfriend along the front walk. One of the police officers, the portly one, intercepted her, blocking her with his body and using his hands on her shoulders to keep control of her. Ainsley knew she was probably risking getting arrested herself but she couldn’t help trying to power past the policeman, knowing she had a good chance of doing so because she was actually taller than him and clearly in better shape. But she had to hand it to the guy, no matter how she tried to pivot past him, he countered with a move of his own which kept him right in front of her, his hands firmly on her shoulders, thwarting all her attempts to get at Casey and rip her throat out.

“Ma’am, please,” he kept saying. “Ma’am, please.”

“This is a mistake!” Casey exclaimed, struggling a bit between the two cops escorting her. “Ainsley! Tell them I belong here! Tell them I’m your girlfriend!”

“You are not my girlfriend!” Ainsley shouted back, over the policeman blocking her. “How dare you break into my house, you crazy bitch!”

“Just take me back!” Casey shouted, still struggling between the policemen as they continued bringing her to a patrol car. “We can even live with her! I’m fine with that!”

Ainsley was speechless, and so angry she could barely see straight.

Fortunately for Casey, the police officers had her in the back of one of the patrol cars in just a few moments, protected from what Ainsley wanted to do to her.

Ainsley gave up trying to reach Casey, figuring that she really would get arrested if she managed to get past this guy and assault a prisoner in a police car.

Sergeant Boatman was suddenly in front of her, asking her a series of questions.

Yes, she knew that woman.

No, she hadn’t invited her over.

No, she had never given Casey her new address.

No, she didn’t currently have a restraining order against Casey.

And there were more. But it was the last one which threw Ainsley.

“Do you want to press charges?” Sergeant Boatman asked.

Ainsley blinked.

God, it sounded so official. It was as if in her head she could hear the clanging bang of the jail cell door slamming shut. It made her hesitate; it made her wonder if that was really called for. Pressing charges was the kind of thing which could ruin a person’s life, even if that person never spent a day in prison.

But then she caught sight of Rachel limping over from the Porsche. What would Casey have done to Rachel if they had gone in the house? Was Casey really capable of hurting Rachel in some sick attempt to get Ainsley back?

The fucking white car!

Rachel believed the white car in front of her house was the one which had tried to run her over. Ainsley didn’t recognize the car. If it belonged to Casey then she must have gotten a new one because when they were together,

Casey had driven a grey Toyota not a white Audi.

Ainsley didn’t know if it could be proven somehow that it was Casey who had nearly run Rachel over the other day but considering Casey had now broken into her house and was lying in wait to do god knows what…

That bitch tried to hurt Rachel!

“Yes, of course I want to press charges,” Ainsley told Sergeant Boatman.

Chapter 35

Three days later, Rachel had had enough.

Sure, her…

What was it called again? Gray…gray-sillica? No, that’s not it. Graysonimbus?

She sighed.

Her whatever-it’s-called muscle was still a little tender but it was far from making her an invalid. In fact, her need to limp had been greatly reduced over the past day and a half and as far as opening her legs went…she knew she could open them far enough.