Page 8 of Professional Consult
She halts, her eyes growing round as she looks down at her chest, and I realize that with this little play scuffle, she might think I’m trying to grope her.
I bring down my hand. “Look, I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard with your—”
She charges again, bringing her leg up to my gut.
She’s all business.
I grab her roughly by the shoulders, spin her around, and begin perp-walking her into the station. She fights the entire way, screaming and stomping up a storm.
She cranes her head toward the cameraman. “Hey! Hey, you! I’ve been framed. His punk-ass brother set me up.”
I chuckle. He never mentioned that part of the script, but I guess Clint wants to keep me on my toes.
I drag her into the station.
“Look, I need to get you booked, which means I need personal information, a head shot, and fingerprints. Now, there are ways I can do this while you’re still handcuffed. Or, I can release you and we can play this game a little closer to home. What’ll it be?”
I marvel at her tear-lined face. How easily she can conjure emotions. She doesn’t just look afraid; she looks terrified. I almost feel bad for her, but then I remind myself that this is a part of her ‘method’ acting process, which is officially wasting half my day.
“P-please let me go…” she pleads, her eyes soft and blue, in search of a hero that isn’t supposed to arrive, because this is by design. Her design.
God, she’s so pretty, even more so in person than she is on the screen. She’s the kind of woman a man would bloody his sword for.
Notthatkind of sword.
Something about her whole damsel in distress vibe tugs at my heart, making me feel guilty. But it’s not like I wanted to do this. I hate the thought of hurting a woman. Of treating them this way. I hate that my job sometimes forces my hand, but it’s to keep Pond Spring safe.
Or it was. Now it’s to get a playground made.
“I’m gonna undo your cuffs. Now, there ain’t no one around but the three of us, so there’s no reason to put on a show. Ya got it?”
She nods slowly.
I move to her back and unlatch the cuffs, but as soon as she’s free, her arms start flailing, this time at Barb. Luckily, my elderly deputy steps away, just out of reach.
Fuck this!Clint is going to get his ass handed to him for putting my people at risk, and Lexi is going to get exactly what she asked for. I—we’re—not taking this shit. Hollywood royalty has no place in Pond Spring, and I’ll be damned if I continue on with these shenanigans.
Furious, I grab her by the shoulder and pull her to the cell, opening it and throwing her in. I’m so fucking angry that I’m about to say about half a million things I could very well regret, but just as I’m about to lay into her, the radio crackles. It’s dispatch.
Barb answers. “….uh-huh…yeah, not a problem, we’ll be right out.”
She looks over at me. “We got a bear out on the hill. Not Bernie.”
“Goddamnit—they never hurt anybody. If everyone would just take their damn feeders in and stop trying to get a picture with them, they’d be just fine.”
“You want me to go out?”
Normally, I’d let her handle it. Barb might be old, but she’s tough as nails and knows how to run off any animal in Pond Spring.
But with my blood pressure ever rising in the presence of Miss Hollywood, I need to get the hell out of the station to cool off and clear my head. She wanted to see what it was like to be taken in. Well, she’s gonna get it.
“I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“Hey, wait—you can’t just leave me!” Lexi whines. “This is a mistake. Your goddamn brother set me up, and if you’re a part of it, you’re going down. From small town hero to big-time criminal!”
I shake my head and chuckle, despite my ever-growing distaste for the woman.
