Page 7 of Flare

The officer answered carefully. “Since he admitted to stealing the cuff, I don’t legally need your testimony to charge him.” She sighed. “But practically speaking, that’s bullshit, and I can do without the time waste. If it’s a first offence, he’ll only get a warning anyway. What did you have in mind?”

WhatdidI have in mind?

Kip stepped closer. “Rhys, what are you thinking?”

I blew out a slow breath. “I’mthinkingthat if this really is his first time, then we have a chance to help rather than make things worse.”

Kips jaw worked, but eventually he nodded. “Soft as fucking butter.”

I snorted. “And you’re not?”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Whatever.”

I turned to Carla. “I’ll need to talk to him and his uncle first, but maybe Jack could help in the shop as some kind of restitution.”

She stared for a long minute. “You need to be aware that without the court involved, we can’t enforce anything. You’ll be on your own. All I can do is put a little fear into him about the repercussions of a second offence. The rest is down to you, and it’ll have no legally enforceable standing.”

“I understand. Can I talk to him?”

“Be my guest, but leave the door open.”

I drew a breath and stepped into my office, avoiding the seat behind my desk to take the one next to Jack instead.

Jack grunted and shifted to his other hip, avoiding my gaze.

“I’m the owner,” I told him. “The officer said this is your first offence. It’s Jack, right?”

Jack’s gaze landed on me and he nodded.

“Can I ask why you took the cuffs, Jack?”

He rolled his eyes like the answer was obvious. “Because I liked them.”

I wasn’t buying the attitude. Everything about Jack screamed humiliation and fear cloaked in pissy teenage bullshit bravado—a state I was more than familiar with at one time.

“I’m not surprised. Stef does great work.”

Jack scuffed his shoe on the floor and avoided my gaze. “Is that the name of the guy who made them?” His gaze flicked to my desk where the two cuffs sat in accusation, the exquisite tooling and silver work saying everything that needed to be said about their quality.

“Yes. He made this too.” I showed him the belt buckle I wore with the word Flare across the middle—the letters fashioned from molten silver rather than etched.

Jack’s eyes popped in undisguised admiration before he quickly schooled his expression. “Not bad.”

I swallowed a smile. “It’s exquisite. And he’s slowly making a name for himself. But he certainly doesn’t earn enough to give stuff away for free.” I cocked a brow. “We provide an outlet for his work, but the stock belongs to him. It washismoney you were taking, not ours. Not that we can afford it either. I’ve only had this business eight months. I’m in debt up to my eyeballs.”

His gaze ran over the room. “Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “Everything in here is crazy expensive. You have to be making a mint.”

I snorted. “I wish. But this is my label, Jack, my own designs. And just like Stef, I’m only slowly making a name for myself. I’ve worked damned hard to have a chance at this store. But even if I was making money hand over fist, that wouldn’t give you the right to steal my work.”

His gaze tracked up to my face. “So, Flare is you?”

I smiled. “It’smylabel, yes.”

His mouth twitched. “That’s cool, I guess.” He looked away again. “What’s gonna happen?”

“Well, that’s up to you, me, and your uncle.”

His gaze jerked back. “What do you mean?”

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