Page 22

M

y hands bounced, tapping against the steel table in a nervous rhythm. I couldn’t stop shaking. A chill lingered, probably because my pajamas weren’t meant for wayward journeys at three in the morning, nor overly air-conditioned interrogation rooms at the police department.

Hours had passed, but maybe it just felt that way. There was no clock in sight. Nothing decorated the barren, drab walls of the room they’d dropped me in and forgotten about.

Finally, finally , the door opened, and a smartly dressed woman entered, looking well put together despite the odd hour. Her heels clacked a beat across the floor. “Okay, I’m going to be brief with you because I’ve had a long few hours arguing with the idiotic ” —she glared up at the camera in the corner— “stubborn, pig-headed—”

The outer door opened once more as one of the arresting officers entered. “Now, ma’am, we’re just doing our jobs to the letter of the law.”

The lady, who was a foot shorter than him if she was an inch, propped her fists on her hips. “She’s a first-time offender with a perfect school record. She’s never had detention, for Christ’s sake. She shouldn’t have been cuffed. Look at her. She’s wearing nothing but shorts and a tank top. There was no reasonable expectation of a threat.”

The man, his pinned nameplate identifying him as Officer Jones, held his hand up in a placating manner. “We didn’t know that for sure, and she wasn’t alone. Her friend—”

The attorney, because who else could she be, purred, “Oh, yes, please do continue your statement. I’d love to add a nice bow of racism charges on top of the neatly packaged case of power abuse your station has displayed tonight.”

Officer Jones’s face darkened to a mottled puce, but he just rocked on his feet and looped his thumbs through his utility belt.

The attorney cupped a hand up to her ear. “Nothing? No takers?” She gave me a mildly disappointed look. “Too bad. I do so love when they implicate themselves, don’t you, dear?” She pulled a chair up, sitting close. “Now, are you going to give me time with my client, or are you aiming for another sanction to tack onto the ever-growing list?”

“No, ma’am. No need to be hasty,” he gritted out, looking pained. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

When we’d gotten the room to ourselves, she faced me. “Sorry about that. It’s been a grueling couple of hours, and I was the only youth attorney on call. Allow me to introduce myself. Attorney Janey Deluth.” She shook my hand, all cool and collected, before snapping her briefcase open. “And we had to put out the fire with your friend first.”

I rushed to ask, “Ralph? Is he okay?”

A small, genuine smile softened her tough outer shell. “Yes, he’s fine, and the fact that you corroborated his story goes a long way to getting him released.”

“I did?”

“Yes. They wanted to say he was taking advantage of you, considering your dazed expression and state of undress, but he was very adamant he was your friend. Your reaction cemented that on camera. Good job.”

Warmth filled my heart, chasing away the chill that seemed to hover over me. “Yeah,” I said slowly at the truth of that notion. “He is my friend.”

She pulled papers from her briefcase, missing the enormity of my realization. “Indeed. Now, I don’t know why your parents weren’t called for hours , especially since you aren’t technically under arrest” —I wasn’t under arrest? That was news to me— “but since you are a minor, you are also completely within your rights to wait for your guardians to be present for your questioning.”

“My questioning?”

Deluth waved off my concerns. “Sorry, it’s nothing major. They—the police—need to get some facts straight about why you were out so late, and what you were doing at an abandoned construction site. The main concern here is the company that halted the construction still owns it, so they could theoretically press charges if they chose to do so.”

My heart rate skyrocketed, and she must have seen that in my expression.

“I’m confident they won’t, of course, but in a station that’s so overly eager to follow the law to the letter, we will cross all our t’s and dot all our i’s.”

“O-Of c-course.” Then, because the idea of my overprotective mother being present during this sent chills up my spine, I added, “Can we do it without them? My parents, I mean.”

She was good. Not even a flicker passed over her expression as she rolled with the question and pulled another packet of papers out of her magic briefcase. “Not a problem at all. If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

The next length of time absolutely crawled past. After she advised me on how to handle the questioning, filled out the necessary paperwork for her to represent me, and filed away the waiver for minors, she summoned the policemen.

The officers repeated the same questions relentlessly, usually interrupting one of my answers to catch me off guard. They were particularly unhappy about my reluctance to describe what’d driven me to that site in the first place. Apparently, Ralph drove us, which I hadn’t even known, but the why of that escaped me.

“You act like you didn’t know that. Care to explain? We need to know why.”

My thoughts rang with a loud, clear, You and me both, mister .

I shrugged instead.

Officer Jones glanced down at his own file. “Your friend , Mr. Buchanan, mentioned that you thought it would be fun to go check it out—some senior dare.” He gave me a baleful look as I tried not to shift in my seat. “Well?” he prompted at length.

“Ah, sorry, it didn’t sound like you’d asked a question,” I replied.

The officer beside him, a much more laid-back Officer Reeves, gave a snort that he tried to disguise belatedly with a cough. He shouldn’t have bothered, as Officer Jones’s glare all but projected he caught it.

Officer Jones leaned forward. “Okay, let’s face facts here. Fact, you broke into the construction site—you, not your friend, not some repeat criminal offender” —at the last, he cast a hard glare at Deluth— “but you. It’s everyone’s first time at some point, dear.”

“That is enough , Officer Jones,” Deluth barked, instantly snapping from her bored yet annoyed finger tapping to crowd the officers’ space as she leaned over the table. “That’s sexual harassment of an underaged minor. I want him brought up on a formal review to start with, but a couple of sanctions wouldn’t be remiss. I have a running tally from all the ways your colleague has fumbled the football this evening. Would you like them alphabetically or just in order of severity?”

The flip in conversation left me reeling, wondering what I’d missed, but I was also relieved that Deluth sat in my corner, not facing me down from across the table. She was a beast in her ferocity.

Officer Jones shrugged. “Eh, go ahead. We have video surveillance from a solar powered trail cam at the site. They’ve had some issues with vandals and wanted to cover their asses. It shows, in plain view, what she did, and the owner has decided to go ahead and press charges for her own safety. How will she learn if we let her off with a wrist slap?”

The air chilled beside me.

“What?” That one word held so much danger.

Officer Jones adopted a smirk. “Oh, did we forget to mention that?” He stood, shifting his gaze from my stewing attorney to address me. “Congratulations, you booked yourself a direct ticket to juvie for the night—and yes, we’re allowed with her parents’ consent.”

The floor bottomed out beneath me. “My parents’ consent?”

The faux concern he adopted failed to hurt compared to the blow he’d already landed, and he’d landed a bullseye. “Yes, Miss Walker. Unless you have anything to add? We could, theoretically, cut a deal. We have the ear of the DA, and we always put in a nice word with our cooperative criminals.”

Criminal.

“Don’t say anything, Willa,” Deluth advised, glaring daggers at both officers.

Jones spread his hands out flat on the table and leaned down. “What were you doing at that construction site, Walker?”

My mind still reeled with the shock and betrayal of hearing my own parents had approved me getting locked up.

Jones brought a hand up and slammed it back down, startling me. “Tell me!”

The other officer elected to intervene in that moment. “Alright, I think that’s enough for now. We can talk to her after she’s had some time to consider her options.”

My mind remained numb as they cuffed me to a soundtrack of Deluth shouting injustices and citing policies. Officer Reeves took over at that point, guiding me out into the hall while Jones and Deluth butted heads.

“—you saw the same video I did, Robert.”

My feet stumbled at the familiar voice, only being righted by the officer’s grip on my elbow.

My mom was here.

Dad, too, apparently. “Yes, but sending her away? She doesn’t need to be locked up.”

He’d never been so short with Mom before.

“That’s exactly what she needs. How are we supposed to handle this? Restrain her to her bed? Padlock her windows and doors? She needs professional help.”

“ No , what she needs is to be home, where her family can support—” Dad’s angry voice cut off.

They stood there, half turned from their interrupted argument. Mom’s face, so similar to my own, bore signs of being drawn to her breaking point, but despite the guilt dancing in the lines of her features, her eyes held a resolute stubbornness. Dad’s shoulders hunched when he caught sight of me, a mixture of fear and grief filling his gaze.

If any doubt remained that Officer Jones had been lying as some sort of ploy, it combusted horrendously in painful flames.

“Hey,” Dad barked, snapping out of his thoughts, “why the hell is she handcuffed?”

Officer Reeves remained calm. “It’s standard procedure when the subject has been flagged as a potential danger to themselves.”

“What?” Dad groused before deciding it didn’t matter if he understood or not. “That’s my daughter. ”

The statement confused me, as if that was suddenly supposed to change written law, but apparently, the officer understood Dad’s implication.

“You’re right, Mr. Walker, and while I can’t remove the restraints, I can spare you a few minutes to say goodbye.” When Dad just continued to stare at me, Reeves cleared his throat. “I’m going to make myself scarce at the other end of the hall, filing a form I forgot.”

The officer barely made it two steps away before Dad engulfed me in a bone-crushing hug that I longed to return, as if I could make myself small enough to hide away from the problems of the world until he made them disappear like when I was a child.

“It’s going to be okay, Willa. Don’t you worry. We’ll get everything straightened out.” He leaned back and pulled my face up. “You hear me? I don’t care what it takes. You’ll be out of that hospital by this time tomorrow. I promise.”

My mind was too blank to do anything but nod and trust him.

Dad swore and reeled me back in, his grip unshakeable, as if he wanted the very same thing I had been thinking about before.

The door behind us opened, and Officer Jones complained loudly about the breach of protocol, which brought Reeves rushing to intervene before Dad could get arrested for assaulting an officer, and that was the end of our goodbye.

Mom said nothing, seeming torn, and I was glad she didn’t step forward to hug me. I wasn’t entirely sure how I would have reacted if she had.

Deluth accompanied my parents to make sure they filled out all the proper paperwork.

As for me? Well, I was on my way to…

“Wait.” I paused, craning my head around. “Did my dad say ‘hospital?’”

“Yes. It’s still technically our juvenile detention center,” Reeves answered kindly, “but you’ll be going to the institutional side for professional help.”

A psychiatric ward.

Had to be.

The hallway flowed into the main area with clusters of desks and other officers strolling in with their morning coffee. A glance at the clock showed that more than six hours had passed from the arrest to now.

I hadn’t known for sure before, just knew that the heavy exhaustion weighing me down probably meant it’d been a while.

“Willa!”

Movement in some visitors’ chairs to my left drew my gaze, and for the first time in hours, warmth filled me at the sight that greeted me.

Ralph wasn’t a surprise, since they booked him right along with me, but it was reassuring to see they’d officially acquitted him of any charges. That he’d remained, though, waiting on me, especially with the glares coming my way from what had to be his parents, said a lot, but he wasn’t the only one here.

Ben, Hunter, and Kolton had all shown up as well. Kolton caught my brother by the shoulder when Nick tried to run to me.

“What’s going on?” Ralph demanded, looking darkly scary. “Why is she in restraints? You released me!”

“Stay out of it, son,” Ralph’s dad, a short, stout boulder of a man much like his son, warned in a low, calm voice that contradicted the quiet fury burning in his dark gaze. My stomach pitted low with guilt, wondering how much trouble I’d landed Ralph in.

“No, it’s not right—”

“I said drop it.”

Nick’s voice sounded so lost, and that cut at me. “Willa?”

Tears clogged my throat, and I couldn’t answer because I had no answers to give—not why I was sleepwalking, or why my body decided to head to some random construction site, and definitely not why Mom seemed so eager to ship me off to a loony bin.

Whatever my expression showed, Nick slumped. Kolton released him, only to have Ben pull him to his side. Nick liked Ben and had flocked to him any time Ben came over. I’d told Ben to shoo him away if my brother ever got too annoying, but Ben hadn’t so far. He’d always said he’d wondered what having a little brother would be like.

“Dad? Come on,” Ben said, and I was confused until I realized his gaze had shifted above and over my shoulder.

I glanced behind me to see a tall man standing nearby, watching. His uniform was slightly different from the other officers’. The gleaming silver nameplate pinned above his breast pocket read, “Chief Pierce.”

Ben’s dad.

Whereas Ben’s gaze always held warmth, his dad’s shone like two black pools of ice. I’d never met the man before, had never even been to Ben’s house, and I had to wonder if he was the reason why.

His gaze shifted from his son to me. Whatever warmth I’d gained from seeing the guys here and them watching over my brother tucked tail and fled. I shivered.

My entire being froze, pinned in place until Chief Pierce turned his attention away. “Officer Reeves,” he greeted. “The transport bus just arrived. Make sure she’s secured. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to her on the way.”

“What the fuck?” someone mumbled, maybe Hunter. It was a pretty low voice.

Ben jerked forward, as if to defend me, but Officer Reeves gave an affable, “Sure thing, boss. I’ll even tag along to ensure she gets there safely. Jones is in the doghouse anyway, and he can handle my paperwork for the day.”

It was the right thing to say, because every one of the guys backed down, appeased, though Ben was now openly glaring at his father. His sculpted jaw clenched further, dangerously hollowing out his cheeks that normally dimpled with joy and mischief.

How much of Officer Reeves’s job consisted of relieving the tension with all these alpha males running around?

“Come on, Miss Walker. We’ll see to it that you get the help you need.”

“The help she needs?” someone repeated, but my cheeks were burning with shame now, and I actively avoided their questioning gazes as they marched me past.

“Dad! Where’s she going? Dad !”

“Not now, Ben,” Chief Pierce gritted out.

Officer Reeves made a pit stop to get me some new clothes and shoes.

“They’ll bag your belongings on arrival anyway, but you need shoes now. You’re freezing, and it started raining about an hour ago.”

An orange jumpsuit was all they had on hand.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” he added when I just held the outfit up and studied it. “You’ll get gray ones when we get there, so don’t get too attached to the prisoner orange.”

It took me a while to realize he was trying to make a joke, and even when I caught on, it failed to crack my blank expression.

He sighed. “It’ll be okay, kid. I’ll just leave you to change.”

When he reached the door, I found my voice, rough and cracking as it was. “What’s the name?” At his questioning brow, I added, “The place I’m… where…”

Luckily, he caught my drift. “Vedault Correctional Institute.”

He didn’t add, “for troubled teens,” but my mind supplied the full title anyway.

In every grade, there was always someone who caused so much trouble that they ended up being sent there for correction .

“But you’ll be checked into the Gentry Psychiatric Ward.”

Oh, even better.