Page 13 of All Autumn
I stepped around him but decided this was her battle. For the moment. If he touched her or said much more, then I’d be all in.
She narrowed her eyes. “Wait a minute, what do you mean, it’s not my car? You gave it to me.”
“No, I loaned it to you. It’s a demo.” He tried to put his hand on her arm, but she yanked it away. “You’re overreacting to everything, Autumn. So I made a little mistake. Nothing we can’t get past.”
The fire I’d seen in her eyes burned brighter. “Not my car? Alittlemistake? You son of a bitch.”
“What about you and him?” He jabbed a thumb my way. “You were wrapped around him like white on rice.”
I’d known Autumn a long time. In about three seconds she was going to explode. I stepped behind her, and just as she went for Brian, I grabbed her waist with both hands, holding her back.
That was how Tommy Evans, one of Blue Ridge Valley’s cops, found us.
7
~ Autumn ~
“I’m so sorry, Connor.” I stared at the cell across from mine, where Connor was housed. “I can’t believe Brian had us arrested for breaking and entering.”
Stretched out on a cot that his feet hung over, he lifted his head enough to see me. “You know the words to ‘Jailhouse Rock’?” He winked, then went back to napping.
Of course I did. I was a classic movie junkie, and he knew that. He was trying to make me think this was no big deal. But it was. He must hate me.
The Blue Ridge Valley Police Department had three jail cells. I was in one, Connor in one, and the Emery brothers, Dick and Ted, occupied the third cell, their second home. Dylan should put a plaque with their names on it over the door.
Oh God, I was a criminal with a record now. How mortifying! And my toad-faced husband, The Cheater, had confiscated my samples. My car that wasn’t really my car was totaled, I was in jail, and I’d dragged Connor into my mess. Why was he so calm about this?
“Connor?”
He lifted onto his elbows. “Yeah?”
“Do you hate me?”
Did he just snort?
He lifted his head again. “I could never hate you. Now hush so I can finish my nap.”
Throughout the years I’d known Connor—ever since first grade—he’d always protected me, no matter what shenanigans I’d gotten up to. And I’d probably been up to more shenanigans than I had a right to. I plopped down onto the cot in my cell. How had I not seen that Connor has always been my personal hero?
“Well, well, what do we have here? You two got a Bonnie and Clyde thing going on?”
At hearing Dylan’s voice, I jumped up and pressed my nose between the bars. Dylan stood exactly halfway between my cell and Connor’s, way too amused considering the laughter dancing in his eyes and the smirk on his face.
Connor lifted a hand in a lazy wave, then went back to napping.
What was wrong with those two? This wasn’t funny. Connor and I were in jail, for goodness’ sake.
“Don’t I get one phone call?” I was almost positive that was one of my rights.
Dylan nodded, and I was pretty sure I saw his lips twitch. “You do. Who do you want to call?”
Well, I hadn’t thought about that, so I didn’t have an answer.
The Emery brothers started banging tin cups against the bars. Why didn’t I have a tin cup? Dylan pivoted, giving Dick and Ted a look that had them scurrying back to their cots.
“I want to call Jenn,” I said. Was it weird to call the fiancée of the man whose jail cell you were being held in?
Dylan chuckled. “I already called her. She’s here to bail you out.”
