Bradford Brawler (Bradford Bastard 2)

Shit.

A soft click sounds through the room, and I whip around, watching as two officers make their way into the small interrogation room. I recognize one of them from my arrest—the guy who initially cuffed me after slamming me down against my desk, the guy who belongs to the voice that’s been circling my head for the past two hours.

The other guy is wearing a suit, and I can only assume that he’s some kind of detective. He holds a folder and tablet under his arm and gives me a tight smile while the arresting officer just scowls. Though I suppose I should be grateful that the other cop from school isn’t here because after pulling his gun on Tanner in the middle of a classroom full of students, I have a few choice words that are bound to get me in even more trouble.

“Miss Ashford,” the detective says, moving toward the small table in the center of the room. “Please take a seat.”

My gaze flicks between the two as I cautiously make my way toward the table, keeping my hands right where they can see them. I’ve seen plenty of cop shows. I know what they’re thinking of me, despite their lack of evidence. I mean, surely there can’t be any, seeing as though I literally had nothing to do with it.

Dropping down into my seat, I place my hands on the table and try to ignore the rapid thump of my pulse beating in my ears. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I have nothing to do with this,” I start.

“I am Detective Steven Jones, and this is Officer Williams. We’ll be conducting your interview today,” he states, unbuttoning his suit jacket before making himself comfortable in the chair directly opposite me. The officer hangs back by the door, his back up against the wall, glaring at me as though I’m the scum of the earth. “Before we get started,” the detective continues, “is there anything we can get for you? Water? Coffee?”

A smirk pulls at my lips, and I berate myself before the words even sail out of my mouth. “What you mean to ask is, would I like to give you a DNA sample, and my answer is no. Though, you have absolutely no reason to need it. I didn’t do anything, but while I’m here, we might as well discuss the abusive manner of your arresting officers.”

“I don’t have time for games, Miss Ashford.”

“In what world would you assume I want to be here playing games with you?” I demand. “The officer behind you slammed me down on a desk despite me having a broken rib, which you would already know if any of you did your homework before storming into a school full of minors. But while we’re on the topic of minors, how about the other officer pulling his gun on a student in a classroom full of them, or the fact that your officers disclosed confidential information about a rape victim to her whole school? Where do we stand on that? Because I know damn well that your department is going to have one hell of a mess to clean up after that. Can you imagine the pissed off parents coming for your neck? Hell, Addison’s mom alone would burn this department to the ground for that.”

The detective watches me for a long moment, his eyes narrowed as if trying to decide if I can be trusted, and after a moment too long, he looks back at Officer Williams. “Is this true?”

He shakes his head and scoffs. “Absolutely not. The girl is exaggerating. She was arrested as per standard procedure.”

I laugh and relax back into my chair. “You want to rethink that answer? We’re living in a world where people don’t know how to put their phones away. What’s the bet that at least five of my classmates were recording the whole arrest? Plus, don’t you guys have to wear body cameras?”

His gaze hardens and Detective Jones lets out a sigh. “Get out of my interrogation room, Williams. I want both you and Harris waiting in my office the moment I’m through here,” he says, reaching for his folder and opening it as the other asshole sends me a scathing glare before striding out of the interrogation room. The detective turns his stare back to me, his gaze narrowed, unsure what to make of me. “Do you know why you’re here, Miss Ashford?”

I shake my head. “Honestly, no. I know that your officers fed me some bullshit about being under arrest for what happened to Addison, but I know damn well they were talking shit because I had nothing to do with it.”

“Really now?” he questions. “Because I have two sworn statements from witnesses who claim you had everything to do with it.”