Page 5 of Arrested By My Mate

He doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he walks over to the desk, tosses his keys down, and leans against the edge like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“I already did,” he replies, his deep voice sending an annoying shiver down my spine.

The audacity.

I start pacing the cell, my boots clinking softly against the concrete floor. Anger bubbles in my chest but so does panic.What am I supposed to do now? My first instinct is to call someone, anyone—but who?

Uncle Jim.

Of course. I pull up short, my stomach twisting. He’ll come bail me out, won’t he? He has to. But then I think about his snippy tone during our phone calls, the way he demanded to be addressed as “sir,” and my confidence falters. How much would bail even cost? Could I really ask him to shell out that kind of money for me?

My gaze flickers back to the sheriff.

I can’t help but take him in—broad shoulders straining against his uniform shirt, dark brown hair just brushing his forehead, and sharp green eyes that seem to see everything. He’s tall, easily a foot taller than my 5’4”, and fit in a way that practically screams small-town sheriff.

He’s the kind of man I would’ve swooned over in another life, one where he hadn’t locked me up like a criminal.

I try to stay mad, but my body betrays me. The memory of his intense gaze when he pulled me over rushes back, how his voice sent a spark straight to my chest.

Focus, Nori.

Right now, he’s the enemy.

My irritation flares as I notice his expression. He looks almost… uncomfortable. His jaw tightens, and he keeps glancing at me before looking away, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Is this your first time arresting someone?” I blurt out, my words cutting through the heavy silence.

His head snaps up, and those green eyes lock onto mine.

“No,” he says, his voice clipped.

“Just your first time arresting someone innocent, then?” I quip, crossing my arms over my chest.

His lips twitch, and for a second, I think he’s going to smile. Instead, he shakes his head.

“You were speeding,” he says, as if that’s the end of the argument.

“And that’s an arrestable offense in this town?”

“Yep.”

He looks away as he says it, and I can tell he’s lying.

“Then I want my phone call,” I demand. “I want a lawyer. Or,” I add pointedly, “you can admit you made a mistake, let me out of here, and I’ll be on my way.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls, his voice suddenly rough.

He spins on his heel and stomps out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

I let out a frustrated groan and resume pacing the cell. My boots scuff against the floor as I mutter under my breath, anger mixing with the prick of tears.

Get it together, Nori.

I sink down onto the cot, the thin mattress creaking under my weight. This is ridiculous. Who gets arrested for speeding? My brain scrambles for answers, cycling through every crime drama and podcast I’ve ever binged. But none of them are helping me now.

How long can he keep me here?

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill in the air. My uncle will come looking for me if I don’t show up in Red Fog. He’ll get me out of this mess. And if not, I’ll use my one phone call to make him.

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