Page 140 of His Fury

The officers straightened. The talkative one was suddenly aware that this wasn’t a man you cornered easily.

Zayn looked over at me—not for information but for reassurance. His presence grounded me instantly. I exhaled the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

The king was back.

And the game had just changed.

Zayn looked at the three men. Casual. Unbothered. Dominant. “Well?”

Rye stayed near the door, his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the three officers like he was already picturing all the ways this could go sideways.

“These officers are going to go and get a warrant.” I spoke up, letting the silence stretch, moving over beside him, needing to be close to him.

Zayn’s eyes flicked to mine before he held his hand out. “If this is about the noise complaint from last month, I can assure you we’ve upgraded our soundproofing.”

The main officer gave a tight smile. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. McCabe. This isn’t about your speakers.”

“Then by all means, enlighten me.”

“It’s a warrant to search the premises.” His eyes flicked to Rye at the door. “We’re here to bring you both in for questioning. In connection with an ongoing investigation.”

No mention of what. Smart. Vague. Just threatening enough to see if we’d crack.

I watched Zayn smile like they’d just told him he’d have to order off the menu because there were no more specials today. “You’ll need to be more specific,” Zayn said casually. “I need to know if I need my lawyer.”

Detective Hill’s jaw ticked. “We believe you were involved in a series of violent crimes that were committed tonight and ended with the death of Patrick Delaney.”

My stomach dropped, and I felt sick. I stepped closer to Zayn.

“And this belief,” he asked, slowly crossing his arms, “is based on…?”

“We’ve received credible information.” The officer who didn’t like me jumped in. “Your name’s come up more than once.”

“Names tend to when people are jealous of the ones who’ve made it.”

The detective shifted again. “Mr. McCabe?—”

Zayn held up a hand. “I’ll come. But let me be clear—you’re not walking through my club, harassing my staff or my guests. If you want to play this out in front of an audience, think again. But if what you’re looking for is cooperation?” He gave them each a cold glare. “You’re getting it. Just not on your terms.”

Rye hadn’t moved. His glare had deepened if anything. He didn’t like this. Neither did I. But I was more worried that they’d played this game before.

Zayn turned to look at me. Solid. Steady. His hand brushed along the small of my back. “Everything’s fine,” he said lowly so only I could hear. “This won’t take long.”

I didn’t blink. I’d never seen someone get arrested before—especially not my boyfriend. Murder? I felt sick. He killed Delaney because he took me? I knew he had. I was also shockingly okay with that.

I turned to look at the officers. “You said tonight?” I asked them.

Detective Hill hesitated. “Yes.”

I let out a laugh, and the edge of hysteria wasn’t lost on anyone. “Good grief, you about gave me a heart attack!” I fanned my face. “Whoa, I need a drink.”

Detective Hill exchanged a look with the grumpy one. “Ms. Wells?”

“I wish you’d just told me this outside. Zayn and Rye have been here all night,” I told them, and the detective looked disappointed as I lied.

“Ms. Wells, you are not the first girlfriend to try and give a false alibi?—”

“Excuse me?” My tone sharpened as I narrowed my eyes on the officer. “Are you calling me a liar? Zayn and Rye have been here all night.”

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