Page 3 of Wreckage of Me
Puck decides to get himself on my shit list as well when he just shakes his head without even bothering to look at me.
“No can do, beautiful,” he sounds amused when he talks to me. “The club will take care of it.”
“Theclub?” I exclaim in disbelief. “And shouldn’t the club care that Dylan has a witness, someone who can get him out of the charge of attempted murder? That’s some serious shit, Puck,” I hit at the back of his headrest, making him bounce forward.
“The club cares about all its members, Becca,” Puck is suddenly serious, no longer the goofball from a few moments ago.
“So then why wouldn’t they want me to help him?” I question.
“Wrecker’s father is the president of the club,” Puck tries explaining to me, but I don’t understand what that’s got to do with anything. “He makes all the decisions regarding the wellbeing of the members.”
“Okay,” I drag the word out, then start talking to him like he’s slow, enunciating each word. “So, wouldn’t your esteemed president want his son, his flesh and blood, to be proven innocent before he even gets to trial? Because he will get to trial,” I threaten.
I’m talking like I know what the hell I’m talking about. All my knowledge is coming from Google. I had some down time while the detective in there was ignoring me, so I googled my heart out on anything related to murder charges.
I am not happy with what I was able to find. But I did find that an eye witness was crucial. And while I have no idea if the police has an eye witness to this attempted murder, I do know for sure that Dylan has an eye witness who can testify he was not being where they’re saying he was.
“Where are they saying this alleged attempted murder happened?” And now I’m using words likealleged. I gotta stay off Google for a while.
Blake, who was getting ready to start the truck and put it into gear, turns abruptly to stare me down. A weaker person would’ve cowered into the back seat. Not me, and that’s because I am beyond giving any fucks about what any of these people think of me. Zero fucks given.
“Why do you care?” Blake’s voice is almost gentle now, one could argue, so unlike the way he’s talked to me since I found him and Puck in the lobby of the hotel.
“Shouldn’t I care?” I raise an eyebrow in question, refusing to be fooled by his sudden change in behavior.
“Not like you two are in a relationship or anything,” he goads me. “Why should you care about what happens to him now?”
“Why…” I am at a loss for words, and I take a few moments to stare at him in shock. “He is a human being who is being accused of having tried to kill another human being,” I try my hardest not to raise my voice at him. “I would do this for anyone who found themselves in this situation.” I lose it at this point and slap the palm of my hand against Puck’s headrest, propelling his head forward again.
“Hey, what did I ever do to you?” he exclaims jokingly. I’m not in the mood, and I want to slap Emily when I see her in the corner of my eye grinning like a full at Puck, who is now rubbing an invisible spot on the back of his head.
“Would any of you just walk away and not try to help if it was you who Dylan had spent all night last night with?” I look around at each one of them, starting with Emily. She puts her head down in shame, so my eyes move to Blake, then finally to Puck. He’s got his serious face on now. About freakin’ time, if you ask me.
“The charges have changed,” Blake tells me from out of nowhere, surprising the shit out of me. This is the first time he’s volunteered any information today.
“They dropped them?” My voice sounds too hopeful even to my own ears. I brace for disappointment when I notice his features taking the face of thunder.
“The victim died a few hours ago,” he drops the bomb on me, making my breath hitch in my chest.
“What does that mean?” I ask even though I think I know.
“He’s charged with murder,” Blake confirms my greatest fear. A whimper escapes my lips and I slap a hand over my mouth to stop any other sounds from coming out.
Murder.
Dylan is charged with murder, and no one wants to take my statement.
2
Wrecker
“Your girl’s a fuckin’pain in my ass, Mr. Knight,” my new best friend and ally stares me down.
It takes everything in me not to grin big at this piece of information. From the second I met Becca, I could tell that she was no pushover. I found her independence and attitude in general to be a huge turn on.
I wish I had time to focus on her right now. However, I know she’s safe, so I need to switch gears and work on everything else that’s fucked up in my life.
“I need to make sure my kid is taken care of,” I announce to the room at large. Malone gives me an approving nod, his sheer size looking completely out of place when paired with the kind smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
