Page 73 of Jerk

Fuck that, myfatheris going to kill me.

My back slumps against the cold, brick wall, the fluorescent lights shining in my eyes. This outfit doesn’t fit this questioning room, and neither do I.

Was this part of Rye’s plan?

Was this his ultimate revenge?

My hands turn to fists as my head falls against the wall. Being in this room reminds me of what the Rowens stole from me. My power.

I should never have trusted them.

“Miss Alfonso?” My chest tightens when the officer enters the room. What will they ask me? Can I prove that text wasn’t real? “You’re free to go.”

My brows furrow, staring at him. He widens the door, stepping back as if he’s waiting for me to go through.

Clearing my throat, I straighten my stance as reality sinks in. “Of course, I am,” I say, hiding the shake in my voice. “I told you, I don’t belong here.”

“We’re just doing our job.” The officer’s eyes drop to my chest before my arms come across my body. “I’ll escort you out.”

“I should have you sued,” I spit, following behind him. The stained white walls and musty smell of the precinct only add to my disgust.

“Don’t worry, you aren’t the first one to use a sex tape as an alibi.”

My stride slows, a pang in my chest. “Excuse me?”

He lets out a throaty laugh as we make our way back into the main room. “You’re free to go, honey.”

Ignoring his words, I step into the precinct’s main room, ready to get the hell out of here.

“Hannah.”

My eyes move to that familiar voice, that pain in my chest returning.

Rye leans against the front desk, his hands in the pockets of fitted black denim, his plain black tee fitting to his muscles. He leans his elbow on the desk like everything’s fine, like he’s having a casual chat at the bar, his black cigarette twirling between his fingers.

A rush of heat fills me, his eyes darting around my body as if he’s looking for something. I hate the way those dark lasers hit me, burning with every stop.

Our eyes lock, my heart flutters before a dagger strikes through it.

He’s the reason I’m here.

Keeping my head high, I make my way towards the door. It's hard to ignore the officers’ eyes as I pass their desks. Some of them chuckle, the others whistle.

“Where can we find more videos, sweetheart?” one asks.

“Hannah.” Rye’s hand comes to my wrist before I can pass him, a jolt firing through me.

I tug it away. “Don’t you dare.” My voice is a harsh whisper.

His eyes narrow. “That’s no way to thank me.”

“Thank you for what? Locking me away in a room for hours?”

“That wasn’t me.”

“And you had nothing to do with your sister framing me? I haven't heard from you in days!” I hate how high-pitched my voice sounds, fury fuelling it. “You walked away after you toldmenot to!”

“Hannah,” he warns, but he doesn’t get to do that. “Calm the hell down.”