Coming Home (The Surrender Trilogy 3)

crime.

“Hey! What’s going on?”

She turned and a man in a suit was blocking the exit of the alley. She’d kick his ass too!

Her chest heaved as she panted, adrenaline pumping wildly through her veins. Fists clenched in

front of her chest, she pivoted, waiting for one of the men to rise. They both were on the ground

moaning as she huffed and shook.

“I need a police officer at twenty-three South Knights Boulevard,” suit man said into some fancy

cell phone.

Instinctively, at the mention of the cops, Scout’s gut urged her to run. Having grown up under the

circumstances she had, the law didn’t usually take kindly to her type, but she’d done nothing wrong

and she wasn’t that type anymore. She had papers and a home. She’d merely defended herself. It took

everything she had not to run and hide.

She grabbed her bag off the ground and quickly left the alley.

“The cops are coming. You can’t leave.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” she snapped at Suit Man.

“You have no business being in this alley,” he snapped back, like an adult chastising a small child.

“I live here!”

He drew back. “Are you Evelyn?”

Finally, some clarity. She assumed his suit meant he worked in an office. Knowing her name meant

he likely worked in the insurance office below her apartment. “Yes. I moved in yesterday. These two

assholes were doing some business I inadvertently interrupted, and they wouldn’t let me leave.”

He paled. “Holy crap. Are you okay? Do you need to sit down? Ellen!”

A rotund woman in a purple suit came out the door to the office. “What? I’m on the phone, Elliot.”

He scowled at her. “This is Evelyn, the new tenant upstairs. She was just attacked. Take her inside

and give her some water and a place to sit until the cops get here. I don’t want these two vagrants

getting away.”

The woman’s mouth popped open like a trout. “Oh, dear! Come along, sweetie. Are you hurt? Do

you need anything? Imagine, such a small girl like yourself being accosted. What’s happening to this

world? I tell you . . .”

She continued to prattle on as she shuffled Scout into the small insurance office and shoved her into

a seat. Scout gazed at the ceiling longingly. Home was so close. All she wanted to do was get there.

From one of those blue coolers, the woman poured a glass of water and wrapped Scout’s fingers

around the little plastic cup.

Lights flashed outside and she turned as a uniformed officer stepped out of his car. Through the

glass, Scout could see Elliot talking to the policeman. Moments later the men were being pressed over

the hood of the squad car and cuffed. Another police car arrived on the scene, no doubt after the

officer discovered whatever was in the little baggie the gap-toothed man had been purchasing.

The insurance woman—Scout couldn’t remember her name—paced by the window, chattering like

a small bird trapped in the large body of a woman. Scout had the distinct impression Elliot was her

husband.

The door opened and the officer stepped in. He scanned the room, and when his gaze landed on her

she drew back and shrunk in her chair. Cops had never been nice to her. Even as a child, she’d been

taught not to trust them because, if caught, they had the power to take her from her mom.

“Evelyn?”

She nodded.

“I’m Officer Ludlow. How are you doing?” His voice and soft expression claimed sympathy, but

Scout wasn’t falling for it.

She shrugged. “Okay.”

He grinned. He had very white teeth that were slightly crooked, but still made a nice smile. “You

did quite a number on those guys out there. Did you take self-defense?”

Yes. The course was called Life and Basic Survival 101. Scout shook her head, and his expression sobered.

“I know you’re pretty shook up. I just need a statement from you, and then you can go.”

She didn’t like being put into this position. Authority made her nervous. She wanted Lucian, which

was odd, being that he held more authority than anyone in Folsom. Or perhaps that was why.

“Hon, do you think you could tell me what happened?”

She wasn’t his honey, and the endearment did nothing to open her up. Her voice seemed lodged

somewhere deep in the pit of her belly, and her trembling had morphed into a full-body tremor as her

adrenaline ebbed.

Scout faced the woman in the office . . . Ellen, she thought. For some reason she was able to speak

to the woman. Clearing her throat, she said, “Could you get someone on the phone for me?”

Ellen rushed to her desk. “Sure, sweetie.” Her chair creaked as she sat and her manicured fingers

grasped the receiver. “What’s the number?”

“Um . . . I’m not sure. It’s . . .” He would be at work. Patras Industries. But her request wouldn’t

budge past her lips.

You can do this! You do not need him!

Fear had her trembling. If she called him, he’d come. He’d handle everything and get her out of this