Page 40 of Jace 4Ever
Nelson
The doors of police stations should be automatic so that when someone as pissed off as I was strode through them, they would dramatically open and let us pass.
Instead, I slammed into the glass and swore at thePullsticker displayed prominently on the handle.
Finally figuring out which way was pull, I resumed my angry, determined walk into the station and up to the main desk.
“I’m here for Jace McIntire.”
The officer looked up, disinterested, then back down. “Who?”
“Jace McIntire.”
He typed something in and shook his head. “No one booked in by that name.”
“Ugh. Joseph Acer McIntire.”
He typed in again, and nodded. “Who are you?”
“Nelson Powers.”
This time his head snapped up and he squinted at me. “Holy shit, you are Nelson Powers.”
“Yeah, and I’m here for Jace McIntire.”
“He’s not booked in. He’s just in a holding cell after questioning.”
That was a relief. It was hard for me to believe that he had called me, of all people, from the station. But I was also glad he did. I had no idea what was going on yet, and I hoped he wasn’t a suspect in anything.
I couldn’t imagine my sweet little twink doing anything against the law.
“Can I get him out of here?”
“Yup. I have an officer bringing him up here now.”
“Thank you.”
I walked to the side and leaned against the wall, folding my arms. What on Earth had gotten Jace dragged to the precinct? When he called me from the station, I thought he was pranking me, but when I heard the tremor in his voice after a moment, I realized he wasn’t kidding. I opted to take my car out of the garage to race up to Queens to figure out what was going on.
An officer, the size of a dump truck, appeared in the hall and walked toward me, with Jace’s slight frame just barely visible behind him. Once they cleared the desk, Jace ducked around him and ran right into my arms.
“You came,” he breathed, his entire body shaking and shivering.
“Of course I did,” I said. “What the hell happened?”
“Can we just go, please? I’ll explain on the way.”
“Of course.” I glanced back at the desk. “Is he clear? Can I take him out of here?”
“All good,” the desk officer said. “We have his phone number if we need him.”
It felt completely natural for me to tuck him under my arm and walk him out of there. I couldn’t believe how he was shaking, but I kept him close and walked us to the car.
Once he was inside and buckled in, I closed the door and slipped into the driver’s seat. The Porsche started with a growl, and I got us on our way back to Manhattan.
“Are you all right, Jace?”
“I am now.” He slumped in the seat. “Christ, Nels. I was so scared. I am still scared.”
