Page 73 of My Last Dance

Two cops stood there.

I gasped. “No, you totally don’t understand, we’re—”

“We totally do,” the cop responded with an unimpressed smirk. “You two are being arrested for trespassing. The owner has requested you leave the premises multiple times.”

“Kappy,” I breathed out.

His shoulders lifted with an angry breath. “Stop calling me—”

“You have the right to remain silent…”

_________

“Don’t tellanyone,” I warned through gritted teeth while rubbing my wrists, which were still sore from the tight handcuffs.

Kappy’s jaw tightened with anger as his lawyer, Johnny, signed us both out of jail. “Where have I heardthatbefore?”

“Just shut up,” I muttered darkly.

“Youshut up,” he muttered back.

“Oh my God, you two both better shut the fuck up,” Johnny warned us.

Leaving the police station, Johnny smoothed a hand down his rumpled tie. “You assholes got me out of bed at 2 a.m. for this.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Kappy said darkly.

I scoffed. “Oh, so I argued all by myself.”

“You’re the one who—”

“Oh, grow up,” I snapped. “Johnny, can you please drive me home?”

He gave me a kind smile. “Sure.”

“Thank you so much,” I gushed.

Kappy’s eyebrows slammed down. He suddenly looked like he wanted to fight Johnny.

Rolling my eyes, I followed Johnny to his tiny sports car.

Kappy tried to open the shotgun seat, but Johnny scoffed and said, “No way,” then jerked his thumb to the backseat.

With a sullen frown, Kappy folded his large body into the backseat beside me. We both stewed in silent anger as Johnny drove us home.

As soon as we turned down my street, I sucked in a deep breath and internally screamed at myself to be the bigger person. I wouldn’t ruin Mer’s happy little bubble just because the two of us couldn’t get along.

Swallowing hard, I said, “We’ll stay civil for the group, that’s it, deal?”

I thought he’d lighten up and agree. I didn’t expect him to glare at me. “Fine. Have a fun night with Carl.”

Shaking my head, I shoved out of the small sports car. “Ya knowwhat? I will,” I said before slamming the door on his face.

I stomped into my apartment complex, feeling ripped off that all of Chicago had revolving doors so I couldn’t slam anything else.

The next morning, I had a message from an unknown number on my phone that read:I am truly sorry for hurting you, Piper. It’s easier to blame everyone else instead of taking responsibility for my own past actions. I was an idiot back then and last night. If it’s any consolation, please know that Brandi was a friends-with-benefits situation, and she knew that. I never ever talked—or even thought—about a future with any other girl. I wish I could go back in time and punch my punk-ass self. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d love it if we could at least be friends.

Rolling onto my stomach, I screamed into my pillow. Because I was right back on that rollercoaster ride.

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