Once we were on the road again, Frankie slipped her hand under my shirt and pressed it to my skin. She didn’t always do it, but the sensation was becoming familiar. I’d put my cut back on as soon as I’d known our destination and who exactly we might run into, and she always slid her hand inside it, but not always under the other layers.
It was getting dark as I pulled up the driveway, and I didn’t see the cars parked out front at first. It didn’t really matter, though, because they’d sure as fuck heard me before I knew they were there. Frankie’s body snapped upright from where she’d been leaning against my back, and I knew she’d noticed them, too.
I squeezed her thigh in reassurance as I parked the bike.
Two officers were standing a few feet from the camper door, like they’d just got done knocking.
“Can I help you?” I asked, taking off my helmet as Frankie climbed off the bike behind me.
“Hey, Gray,” one of the officers greeted.
“Jake,” I replied, moving toward him.
“Got a report that you roughed up a guy a few times,” he said with a sigh.
“A few times?”
“Yeah, I know how it sounds.” He glanced at the cop next to him. “He said you kept attacking him, once outside a bar, twice when he got home from work, once on his way to work, once when he was on his back porch—” He looked down at the notebook in his hand. “And once at a gas station.”
I held back a smile. “Haven’t attacked anyone.”
“Can you tell me where you were on Saturday night, Monday evening, Tuesday evening, Wednesday morning, Thursday evening, and Friday morning?”
“Shit, man,” I said as Frankie tucked herself into my side. “I could probably check the receipts. We left Saturday and rode down the coast and just got back five minutes ago. Who’s sayin’ that I attacked him?”
“Scott Piles,” the other officer replied. “Said he used to date your girl.”
“I’m awoman,” Frankie said flatly.
“No disrespect,” he replied.
“And yeah, I know Scott. He’s an asshole.”
“I’m gonna need copies of those receipts,” Jake said, clearly annoyed that he had to be out talking to me.
“I can send ’em over.”
“Great.”
“Wait a second,” the other cop said. “When did you leave?”
“Saturday around dinnertime,” I replied patiently.
“And you haven’t been in town since?”
“Nope.”
“You have any idea why this guy would say you attacked him?”
“None.”
“Probably because I dumped his ass, and he couldn’t let it go,” Frankie said bluntly. “I doubt he’s stoked that I’m with someone else.”
“Asswipe,” Jake muttered. “Thanks, Gray. Send over those receipts, would you?”
“Tomorrow,” I agreed.
We stood together in the yard as the cops went back to their cruisers and left. It wasn’t until the last set of taillights disappeared that Frankie shifted and shoved me away from her.