Page 35 of Surrender

"If your parents are there..."

I shake my head.

"If they're in there and they even suspect you have money they'll come after you. They’ll threaten you, stalk you. They'll try to manipulate you, manipulate me. They can't see you." I can tell he wants to argue with me, and he looks over my shoulder at the old building. His instinct to protect is warring with what he knows to be true. They called in a missing person’s report to flush me out. They're around here somewhere, or one of their druggy friends is.

But they can't see him. It's a hill I'm willing to die on. If he thinks he's protecting and providing for me, I feel the equalamount of protectiveness over him. He may be grumpy, grouchy, and prone to anger, but he's mine.

When did I start thinking about him like he's mine?

"The second you're uncomfortable or worried you come to me. I don't care what they say. You.come.to.me," he growls.

It's a small walk to the front of the police station, lit by streetlamps, and within view of him, Joseph, and the entire Alexandria police department.

"I could escort her, sir." Joseph offers from the front seat.

I put a hand on his shoulder, affectionately.

"No, offense, Joseph. But you scream bodyguard. It's not much better."

Joseph locks eyes with Declan in the rearview mirror, looking for his boss's direction.

I can feel Declan simmering next to me. He hates this, but he gives a tight nod to Joseph and looks away from me.

Feeling bolstered, I exit the car and walk into the police department. A stern looking older woman manages the desk, while men in uniforms work around her.

"Um..." I say, getting her attention. "I think someone filed a missing person's report for me. But, um, I'm not missing?" I start. What an awkward damn conversation to have.

"Name?"

"Serenity Jones?"

She shuffles some papers around before calling to man behind her. "Johnson, this is Ms. Jones from the missing person's report. She says she's not missing."

A tall, muscular man with a handsome face takes the papers from her and shoots me a smile. He's nice to look at, but I prefer Declan's suits and frown, surprisingly.

"Great, Ms. Jones. Would you please follow me?" I don't know what I expected but I didn't expect to be taken to aninterrogation room. I'm told to sit on the hard metal chair on one side of a hard metal table.

"Sir, I... uh... I don't think I've done anything wrong?" I offer, suddenly incredibly anxious.

"No, of course dear, we just want to cover our bases and make sure you're not under duress. Do you have a form of ID we can use to verify you are who you say you are?"

"Um, no... when I left my parents' house, I left my wallet and cell phone."

He frowns. "May I ask why?"

"Oh... uh... I didn't have a great home life with my parents, so I left and moved in with my... friend. I didn't want them to know where I was."

"Is there any reason why?"

I think for a moment about how much detail I want to give.

"They... um... aren't nice people."

"Did they hurt you?"

I bite my lower lip but don't answer. That seems to be enough for him. "Would you like to file a restraining order? I can still see you have a bit of a black eye. Why don't you tell me exactly what's been going on so I can help you?"

He seems genuinely interested in helping. He feels friendly, down to Earth, and doesn't have that arrogant, power-tripping aura that some cops have.

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