Page 32 of How to Trust a Hellhound
“Rick reported that you were being held against your will and that these guys had stolen things from your apartment. He had a photo of this one”—the sheriff pointed at Jude—“from your doorbell camera.”
Jude started to say something, but one of the other guys must have elbowed him, because he was cut off.
I turned around and shot them all a glare before I turned back to the sheriff. “I can assure you I amnotbeing held against my will, and they didn’t do anything but movemy stuff, which I asked them to do because I didn’t want to see Rick. In fact, they left things there that were also mine, and I can show you receipts for all the expensive items if you doubt that.”
“No, that’s not necessary. That makes sense considering there were still some expensive items in the place. Unfortunately, Rick also made some accusations of assault,” the sheriff said. He looked at Jude when he added, “Although I doubt Rick is in the trunk of Jude’s car, since I just came from talking to him.”
Jude pushed forward. “Aww, Walrus, you knew he was fine. You just couldn’t wait to get me in handcuffs, spread against your car.” He actually winked after he said it.
“You cannot do things like that to a police officer, Jude. One of my deputies would have tasered you and brought you in,” the sheriff grumbled.
“Don’t worry, I would never grab anyone else’s… weapon—only yours. And tasers—don’t promise me a good time,” Jude said, his voice low and raspy.
“Jude, you aren’t helping,” I murmured. “Go up to the porch.”
“Awww, but Josh,” he whined.
Wilder smacked him on the back of the head, and Jude looked at me, slightly chagrined. I just raised my eyebrows, because he totally deserved it. He turned and sulked his way back up to the porch. I swear the sheriff was staring at his ass as he went, although maybe he was just making sure Jude actually listened.
Liam cleared his throat, saying, “Atlas and I did visit Rick, but we…”
I cut him off. “Rick hit me and sprained my wrist.”
The sheriff had a good poker face, because he gave nothing away. I knew Atlas and Liam would lie for me, but I was tired of lies. I was tired of covering up for Rick.
“I have photos,” I added. “I can produce various medical reports of injuries over the time I’ve been with Rick, if it’s necessary. The Smiths moved my stuff out because I didn’t feel safe going back. Rick called today to threaten me, and though I certainly didn’t suggest they go speak with him, Atlas and Liam were defending me and asking Rick to leave me alone. Rick is very angry that I’m staying here.”
I knew my face was red. I felt embarrassed admitting that I’d ever gotten into that situation, even though I saw no judgment in the sheriff’s eyes.
I was also starting to feel really angry about it, and I wanted the sheriff to know what an asshole Rick was. Wilder squeezed my shoulder, and I leaned back a tiny bit, feeling him against my back. Somehow it made this a little easier.
Wilder asked, “Did Rick have any bruises or marks from this supposed assault?”
The sheriff glanced at Liam and Atlas. I knew what he’d see; both guys looked totally fine. Not a hair out of place, no bruised knuckles—nothing to imply any sort of fight. The sheriff looked back at me.
“Would you like to file for a restraining order?” he asked me.
I was surprised he took me at my word so easily. A restraining order wasn’t a bad idea, but.... “I’m changing my phone number, and I’m staying here right now. I think this was Rick’s dying attempt to cause trouble, and as long as the police don’t give in to his lies, I don’t think he’ll be any more of a hassle.”
The sheriff grimaced at my last statement,and my stomach dropped. He’d believed me rather easily, and he hadn’t even asked to see pictures of the bruises. What exactly had Rick said to him?
I probably would have turned and walked away, because I really didn’t want to know what trouble Rick was up to, but Wilder was a warm, solid presence against my back.
“What did he do?” I asked, my voice shaking a bit in anger.
“As far as I’m aware, nothing, but, Josh…” The sheriff sighed, looking at Liam and Atlas. “Did he seem… lucid when you spoke to him?”
Lucid? What was the sheriff getting at? I must have looked as confused as I felt.
“Rick claimed that these two threatened him and set him on fire with their glowing red eyes. He was ranting about it, alternating between extreme anger and what seemed like genuine fear,” the sheriff said. “There were no marks on him, but he seemed convinced of his story. To be honest, I was worried about your safety because of his behavior. However, he didn’t pose a threat to himself or others as far as I could tell, and he said he had no intention of driving anywhere. I didn’t smell alcohol on him or see any drug paraphernalia, either. I wasn’t sure if there was a history of mental illness…”
I leaned further into Wilder as the anger drained out of me. “Rick doesn’t use drugs, at least not to my knowledge. He drinks on occasion, but he doesn’t usually imagine things.” I paused, still trying to process everything he’d said. “He really said they set him on fire? I could see him making up that one of them hit him or that they threatened him, because he’s very manipulative, but saying they had laser eyes or whatever seems kind of far-fetched even for Rick. Do you think my breaking up with him caused some sort of psychotic break?” I couldn’t keep the worry out of my voice. Rick was an asshole, but I didn’t want to be responsible for something like that.
Wilder’s arm wrapped around me, basically hugging me from behind, and I couldn’t find it in me to complain or think how weird everyone probably thought that was.
“This isn’t your fault, Josh,” Wilder murmured. “You take care of others all the time, but you aren’t responsible for them when they don’t take care of themselves or make bad decisions.”
The sheriff stared at us for a moment, and I felt like I should pull out of Wilder’s embrace, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
