Page 77 of On The Rocks

Callum must’ve seen the worry in my expression because, in an instant, he was up and out of his chair. “Come here, Maeve,” he rumbled, opening his arms.

With a strangled sob, I ran at him, hitting him so hard he went back on one foot before wrapping his strong arms around me.

I tipped my head back, searching his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he murmured, his hand stroking over the side of my face and my hair. “More to the point, are you okay?”

“I will be now,” I replied. “I just wanna go home.”

He settled me into the chair beside his, then sat down. “We will soon.”

“The only place you’re going is County,” a spiteful voice cut in. “My boy’s in hospital getting his fingers reset, and I need to get back to him. I got no clue why you’re holding this arrest up, Pagan, but I wanna get on with it.”

“Sheriff...?” Kennedy began, a questioning tone to her voice.

“Huntley—Gus,” he replied, a gleam of interest in his eye as he studied Kennedy and held his hand out.

She took it, smiling sweetly. “And it was your son who was involved in the altercation with Mr. O’Shea?”

He jerked a nod. “Yeah, my boy, Junior. He’s one of my deputies.”

“A deputy, you say?” Kennedy asked, sounding impressed as she dropped his hand. “Well, my client, Doctor Maeve O’Shea, would like to press charges against Deputy Huntley for sexual assault. He carried out an attack on her in front of witnesses.”

I caught Pagan’s grin before he quickly hid it.

Huntley’s eyes slid toward me. “Doctor... Witnesses?”

“Yes, namely myself, Kennedy Stone, her lawyer. Doctor Sophie Green who’s head of General Surgery over at Baines Memorial. And Doctor O’Shea’s husband, Mr. Callum O’Shea, a respected business owner from Hambleton. Maeve herself is an esteemed archeologist and a renowned expert in women’s history, who’s headed lectures at several Ivy League universities as well as at Oxford and Cambridge...” Her voice trailed off, and she smiled sweetly. “Anyway, shall we get on with it? You’ve got a report to make.”

“But this place is full of whores,” he blustered. “My boy would have assumed?—”

“He assumed Doctor O’Shea was a whore?” Kennedy’s tone hardened to broken glass. “Does your,” she paused then spat the word, “boyoften sexually abuse women he thinks are whores? Does being a whore make being assaulted acceptable in the eyes of the law in Coal Creek?” She leaned forward, her face blanking. “I’ll be in attendance with Mrs. O’Shea at her interview. Do you want to take her statement first or shall we go back to Hambleton and make a formal complaint through the sheriff’s office there?” Her eyes flickered to the nice older gentleman at the table. “I see you’ve already got the Mayor of Hambletoninvolved. Excellent! By the time I’ve finished with yourboy, he’ll be under investigation with IA and listed on the sex offenders registry.”

My gaze rested on the older man, who by then was grinning down at his boots.

Mayor?

Callum’s fingers tightened around mine, and he kissed the side of my head.

I watched the color drain from Sheriff Huntley’s face. He slumped back, his stare going to Callum before coming to me. A cold shiver trickled down my spine at the spite gleaming in his eyes. “I’ll drop the charges ifshedoes.”

Callum took my hands in his and turned me to face him. “I think you should still go ahead with it.”

My heart swelled at his words.

All he cared about was that I did what was best for me. My husband would gladly go to jail if it meant I got justice for what that man did. The problem was that Callum going to prison wasn’t an option. How could I get through a day without him, let alone years? Especially after tonight and the way he’d put himself on the line to protect me, not just with this awful sheriff and his son but also the Kings of Anarchy.

“I just want to go home, curl up in bed, and forget it ever happened. Please, Callum,” I begged.

“Don’t do it for me,” he insisted. “I’ll happily face whatever comes.”

My fingers lifted to touch his cheek, and tears welled in my eyes. “Take me home, please. I just want you to take me home.”

After a pause, Callum leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Okay, baby. We’ll go home.”

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor echoed throughout the room. “We’re done here,” the sheriff snapped.

Turning my head, I saw Pagan lounge back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Probably best to have a word with your boy and suggest he stays away from our parties from now on,” Pagan advised, his tone deceptively friendly.

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