Page 69 of Castaway Whirlwind
Despite the thick, stale air, I shiver, hugging myself the way I wish Russell were here to hug me. My knees throb painfully as they swell, dried blood leaving crusty tracks down my shins, but my voice still comes out strong, if not a little sassy, because I have the truth on my side. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask your Granny? I’m sure she’d be more than happy to get pulled out of bed in the middle of the night and marched into the station to clear things up for you.”
Green coughs into his fist, squirming in his seat like a restless child. His Granny istheGranny, and she has a reputation for boxing ears, which is why his hands drift up to the sides of his head briefly. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I believe you,” he says low, his kind, dark brown eyes pinned to the gray wall over my shoulder, respectfully never looking at the lewd photographs thrown on the table after I was hauledin here for questioning like a criminal.
“Well, I don’t,” Deputy Butthole—Allen—barks, slapping a hand on the metal table, making the photographs skitter along the shiny, smooth surface. “Not for one goddamn second.”
I lean as far back as I can, icy fear shooting down my body, trembling that much worse. Allen has been a regular at Granny’s long before I started working there. Though he’s not much of a tipper, he’s never given me the impression he’s ever thought about me so contemptuously. I see now he’d been hiding it all along. If anything, there’s satisfaction in the twitch of his angular features beneath ashy brown waves too pretty to be wasted on such a man.
Deputy Allen tosses my business card on top of the envelope of cash pulled from my purse that I still hadn’t deposited into my bank account. “Explain this.”
“You know firsthand that my fiancé,” I emphasize, “is a generous man with a big heart.” Everyone knows someone employed at BT. Russell may be a grumpy butthead sometimes to everyone but me, but he takes care of his people and thus our whole town.
“Fiancé,” Allen scoffs, sneering at the top photo he picks up and tries to wave in my face.
It’s of me in only my white boots and jean shorts, on my knees before Russell with my hands on his big thighs, face upturned to his with my lips parted as Russell grips his bare cock.
“You’re just smart enough to play it dumb.” Pitching his voice higher to sound like mine, Allen mocks, “All cute and innocent and poor me.” He waves another photo of Russell pressing his cock against me while I was on my hands and knees after changing the bedsheets. “Made him believe youlovehimof all people when really, beneath the surface, you’re a low-class gold-digging slut who took advantage of his ‘big heart’,” Allen accuses, giving voice to my greatest insecurities and fear. “You used that sweet pussy of yours to sucker an old man into proposing to you the same way you did Steven when everyone knows you can’t turn a whore into a housewife! Didn’t you?”
“No!” I try to yell, my throat closing in at the same time as Green turns on Allen, his face going as gray beneath his bruise as I’m sure mine does.
Green nearly trips over his chair when he stands, backing away toward the closed door, looking at Allen as if he’s never seen the man before.A monster. I want to scream at Green not to leave me alone with this monster, but I can’t get my voice to work.
I’d forgotten how close Allen and Steven were since Allen rarely came to the house. He’s not acting as an officer right now, protecting and serving his community. His only interest is in protecting hisfriend. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s just like Steven, if not worse, given the garbage he’s spewing. It’s sickening that someone like him wears a badge and weapon to work every day. What other nauseating thoughts does he have about the women in this town?
Allen lunges from his chair, looming over the table, spreading the cash and photographs out on the table, though I can’t look at any more of them without bile rising in my stomach. These should have been for our eyes only.
Allen’s voice rises until he’s screaming as a purple vein bulges in his forehead. “Admit you’re nothing but a heartless bitch who cons men into falling in love with you, Lady, and maybe I’ll put in a good word for you with the judge.” Mymind goes blank with terror when Allen pulls his silver money clip from his pocket, waves a fifty-dollar bill in the air, then crumples it in his fist, and throws it at my chest. “Hell, I’ll do you one better. Give me that tight little asshole of yours, and I’ll—”
“Die,” Russell finishes, dropping his cuffed wrists over Allen’s head and around his neck, yanking him backward off his feet. Green holds the door open, having let in my murderous fiancé and a slightly older man in a three-piece black suit carrying a leather briefcase.
Allen claws at Russell’s fists, which have turned purple from his tight cuffs, when he drags Allen out of the interrogation room into the hallway. I’m so shocked by the turn of events that I remain glued to my seat, lightheaded. Green whistles a tune, turning a blind eye to Russell choking the life out of his fellow officer while the other man flashes me a bland smile.
“Stop him,” I mouth, then louder. “Stop him before he kills Allen and goes to prison!”
Green scratches the back of his neck. “Who?”
My chair falls backward when I stand up fast, jerking my hand toward the hallway, Elliott filling the doorway with his phone held to his ear. “Russell!”
“I haven’t seen Russell around here.” He turns to the man I assume is a lawyer. “Have you, Mr. Montes?”
Mr. Montes mimes zipping his lips, then motions me forward. “Time to go.”
Disbelief has me swaying on my feet until I have to brace myself on the table to keep from falling. Green is really going to let Russell get away with murdering an officer, and I’m, miraculously, being set free? It’s too much.
Elliott steps back and disappears, letting Deputy Cooke pushone of the two girls in the denim mini skirts from the bar into the room, the girl sniveling and begging to be let go. Cooke points to the floor at the back left corner. “Sit down and shut up, Harper! You’re in enough trouble as it is.”
“Please! I didn’t do anything! I’m totally innocent,” the girl whines, snot running from her nose while narrowing her cold eyes in a familiar fashion.
“Innocent, my ass! I knew you were up to no good, but this…the tires…the drive-by…it’s crazy, even for you!” Cooke scoffs. “That slimy creep. No wonder you wanted to move to this backwards ass town!” Cooke shakes her head, pacing from one side of the small room to the other, her boots scuffing the floor. “Just you wait ‘til Mama hears about this. She’s going to tear a strip off your hide a mile wide. You’ll have more fun in prison.”
The girl collapses into a heap on the floor, crying into her hands, missing several manicured fingernails, perhaps having been caught up in the fight herself. My gaze bounces between them, putting the puzzle pieces together as I edge around the table away from Harper.
The motion alerts her, and she snaps her head up, screaming at Cooke, “You’re going to let her go? After what she did?”
“Are you kidding me? Whatshedid?” Cooke balls her hands. “She wasn’t the one paying people to vandalize shit on behalf of a narcissistic loser! You could have killed her when you loosened those lug nuts!”
Harper rolls up onto her knees, spittle flying when she explodes, “You don’t know him! He’s not a loser!”
“Yes, he is!” Cooke screeches, her voice breaking at the end, and she crashes to her knees before yanking Harper into her arms, her slick, low bun the same white-blondeshade as Harper’s. “He’s a loser who preyed on your crush. Manipulated you into breaking the law time and time again to get back at the womanhecheated on and kicked out.”
