Page 35 of Brand
Before I was ready for it, his arms circled around me and he crushed me into his chest, protective and comforting all at the same time.
“You done here?” he barked at the detective. The tension was so thick that I could feel it all the way through to my bones.
“Miss Benson, can I get you an escort home?” the detective asked me. I shook my head against Sketch’s chest but didn’t look at him. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to stay. I could call your parents for you, if you’d like.” It wasn’t a question, it was a threat. But I didn’t care right then, I didn’t want to go with the officers. And let me not forget that I had a dang gun in the back of my pants.
“She don’t want your creepy ass taking her anywhere. Fuck off.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the detective’s jaw tick. Sketch was really pushing it and the last thing I wanted was for him to be taken away too. I breathed a sigh of relief when the detective stepped back and walked away, leaving the scene and taking his cops with him.
An odd silence fell over the shop as they cut the flashing lights and drove away.
Then I was surrounded and I started to feel shaky and sweaty.
“Oh, God! Take this thing,” I said, turning around and pulling up my shirt. I didn’t want to touch it again that was for sure. “Now!”
“Oh fuck, C-money,” Sketch said and a second later he pulled the gun out and away from me. “Do I even want to know? You look good with a piece on you, though.”
I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to ease the tension of what was going on. And part of me appreciated it. But part of me, a bigger part of me, knew that there were serious things that needed to be handled.
It didn’t escape me that they had cleared the scene. It also didn’t escape me that they hadn’t done any kind of search. They’d found the drugs right away but then didn’t even bother to look for anything else. Something was up. Nothing about this night was sitting right with me.
“Can you tell us what happened?” I turned my attention to the man that spoke. He was at least ten years older than me, with a handsomely worn face. A face that was currently frozen in a half-angry and half-concerned expression. My eyes roamed over his face then down to his chest. I stared at the patch just under the name Iron. President. This was the big man, so to say. “Cami?” My name sounded soft and almost unsure on his lips.
I gave a timid nod as I swallowed against the dryness that filled my throat.
“Brand. Oh, shit-sticks. They took him.”
I looked at Sketch with a sad, pleading look. Brand needed help and here I was wasting time. With a deep inhaled breath, I continued as fast as I could.
“We were here, cleaning the case,” I lifted my finger to the spot to prove my point. The cleaning supplies were still sitting on the floor, now surrounded by shards of broken glass. I shook off the uneasiness and continued. I thought it was best to skip over the whole kiss thing. “Then there were rapid popping sounds and glass breaking. I didn’t see anything because Brand took me down and covered my body. He was hit. There was blood.”
My breath kicked up a notch and for some strange reason, my fingers brushed over my shoulder in the exact same place Brand had been hurt.
“On his shoulder?” Iron asked me.
“Yes,” I nodded and I had a hard time getting my eyes to focus on anything. “But he said he was fine. The place went quiet and there were car tires squealing. The sounds faded, then there was nothing. I went into Blade’s room while Brand checked to make sure they were gone. The gun,” I motioned at Sketch, though I was sure they understood what I was talking about without me having to say anything further. “Brand tucked it on top of that stupid wood monstrosity Blade calls a frame right when the cop car lights started to flash outside.”
“You said they took him? Did they arrest him? Or take him to the hospital because he was shot?” Iron asked me almost too calmly. I had a feeling he knew the answer even before I said it.
“They arrested him,” I said as I blinked my focus to meet his eyes. “None of it seemed right. I mean, not like I would know, I’ve never been in…a situation like this before. But there were no sirens when they pulled up. They separated us, and not long after that, the detective came out holding something about the size of a brick. A cop followed him carrying two more of the same thing. I heard the word ‘cocaine,’ followed by the detective saying something about intent to distribute. I was too far away to catch all of it. Then they were putting the cuffs on Brand. I wasn’t sure if they were going to search the place, so I slipped away and grabbed the gun just in case.” My shoulders lifted and fell in a quick shrug.
“You did good. Thank you, Cami,” Iron said and I could see the frustration in his narrowed eyes, but I could tell that it wasn’t aimed at me.
There were looks exchanged all around. Some kind of silent conversation was taking place between all of them.
“You don’t know where the cocaine came from, do you?” I asked, maybe getting a bit too big for my britches. “I mean…you don’t deal in drugs, am I right?”
Iron cleared his throat and took me in for a long moment.
“No.” That was all he offered. I knew I’d been right. Maybe they had hands in some sort of other criminal activity, but it was clear the drugs were not theirs.
Then my crazy mind went into overdrive. The only explanation was that the drugs had to have been planted. Since Sketch was part of the club and I very highly doubted Blade would have anything to do with the stuff, my only other thought was the detective. The very one that made something sour in my gut from the moment I laid eyes on him.
“Omigod!” I blurted out suddenly. “The cameras. Sketch the cameras. Why didn’t I think of it sooner? There has to be something there to help Brand out.”
“What a shit fucking night.” Sketch shook his head and looked at Iron.
“So you have no idea who shot up the place at all? Did Brand say anything?” Iron asked me.
