Page 11 of Need (Men of Inked Sinners #3)

OLIVER

“I’m back, fucker,” Liam says as he walks into the garage with a pep to his step. “I needed that.”

I stare at him from behind my desk, wishing his trip had been a few days longer. “You look refreshed.”

It’s been nice without him here. Quieter. I love my brother even though he can be a complete shithead, but the amount of time his mouth is moving is way too much for me. It’s not like he has anything important to say either. He talks to talk, and it’s usually about bullshit.

“Vegas will do that to a man,” he says, dropping down into his desk chair and stretching his arms wide. “The city’s changed so much, but it’s better than ever.”

“I assume you won. You’re in way too good of a mood to have lost your ass.”

“You know it.” He grabs a stack of papers on his desk and starts to riffle through them. “Did I miss anything?”

I shake my head and grunt.

“Three days wasn’t long enough.”

“Suppose not,” I grumble, knowing it was too short for me. I could’ve gone a few more days with as much peace and quiet as I could get at the garage.

“And what about the pretty girl?”

My eyes narrow on him. “What about her?”

“Did you see her again?”

“Yeah.”

He raises an eyebrow as his fingers move through his beard like he’s deep in contemplation. “Expound.”

“Big word for you, brother. Did you read a dictionary on the plane?”

“Asshole,” he mutters. “What happened with the chick?”

“The woman,” I correct him, trying my best to keep the snarl out of my voice. “Saw her the other night.”

“And?”

“Had dinner and fixed her dishwasher.”

“Dishwasher?”

“Yeah, you know,” I say, twirling my fingers in the air, being a sarcastic prick, “it washes dishes, and most people, unlike you, have one in their kitchen.”

“You seeing her again?”

“Yep.”

“When? ”

I shrug, refusing to give him any details. My private life is just that…private. I would tell a stranger before I told Liam anything, especially about a woman I am seeing.

“She finish the work here?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s an unorganized shithole.”

“You sleep with her yet?”

My jaw tightens as I stare at my brother, wishing he’d turn around and get right back on another plane. “Why?”

He chuckles and waves a hand at me. “You did.”

“None of your business.”

“I’d bet money you got laid recently. You’re way too cheerful today. Not like your usual moody self.”

I give him the middle finger and go back to staring at my computer screen instead of his smug face.

A police cruiser pulls up outside the open bay, and my brother’s face drains of all its color.

“Shit,” he whispers as his posture stiffens. “What the hell do they want?”

“You already broke the law? You’ve been back less than twenty-four hours.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve been good lately.”

Lately is the operative word. There’s a list a mile long of shit Liam’s done in his life that could make this visit possible.

Two officers climb out, one male and one female. Their eyes roam their surroundings, taking in every possible threat.

“Good morning, officers,” I say, not bothering to get up from my desk. “What can we help you with?”

The female tips her head in my direction, but there’s no smile on her face. “We’re looking for Oliver Winston.”

My stomach plummets like I’ve been hurled down the tallest roller coaster hill.

“Ooooh,” my brother says as his lips turn up in a sadistic smile. “Not me.” He raises his hands, looking more than a little excited that this call has nothing to do with his history of every type of illegal thing.

“I’m Oliver,” I tell them as my gaze moves from her to her partner. “What’s wrong?”

The male officer blows out a breath as his hand drops to his belt, which is never a good sign. “We’re here about an incident that happened the other night.”

My mind drifts back, and I know exactly what this is about. “Okay,” I say, playing clueless and hoping that my intuition is right.

“We have a victim who claims you came to his apartment and assaulted him.”

My brother gasps, drawing my attention, along with that of the two officers.

“What in the world…”

“Zip it, Liam,” I say through gritted teeth, not needing his brand of bullshit today. “And? ”

“He’s pressing charges, but we wanted to bring you down to the station to get your side of the story, take a statement.”

“Are you arresting me?” I ask them, shockingly calm in this situation.

The woman glances down before she looks me in the eye. “We’d like to take you downtown.”

“We are downtown,” my brother interrupts, stirring the pot in a moment that calls for him to keep his mouth closed.

“Can I come down after work?”

The male officer shakes his head. “No. Sorry, sir, but this needs to be done now.”

“Can I take my own car?”

“No, sir,” the female says.

“Busted,” my brother teases, and it takes everything in me not to launch myself across the space separating our desks and adding another charge to what I’m sure is a list from the incident with Mark. “Fuck, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Fine,” I say, pushing myself up from the desk and glancing toward my brother. “Call Hal.”

He nods. “On it,” he says, grabbing his phone and peeling away from the office area, heading toward the bank of cabinets in the back of the garage.

The female cop takes a step forward. “Leave everything,” she says to me as she reaches for her handcuffs.

“So, you are arresting me? ”

“It’s a safety precaution,” she replies.

I growl, wishing I could get my hands around Mark’s neck again. “Fine,” I say with my jaw clenched so tight, I’m surprised I don’t break a tooth.

I turn around, placing my hands behind my back to make their job easier. Do I deserve to be in handcuffs? No. Did I beat the living shit out of Mark and leave him in a puddle of his own blood? Absolutely. I’d do it again too. A man like him deserved worse than I gave him. He is lucky to be alive.

“You have the right to remain silent…” the officer says, and I tune her out.

I have to believe this will all get sorted out downtown once I am able to explain my side of the story. There has to be justice in this world, and I am on the side of good, while Mark represents everything bad, deserving eating through a straw for the next six months.

“Mr. Winston, I’m Officer Williams.” The man sits down across from me as I’m handcuffed to the steel table that’s no doubt bolted to the floor. “I’m here for your statement.”

My statement? That’s laughable. “I want my lawyer,” I tell him, knowing my rights.

“He’ll be here soon,” he says, placing his pen down on a blank form between us. “But I thought we could talk first about what happened the other night with the victim.”

I let out a bitter laugh. Mark’s no victim, and if I had to hazard a guess, he is the one who has a string of victims probably strewn across the Chicago metro area.

Each one of them too scared to come forward, fearing no one would believe them, which is most likely true, no matter how sad that shit is.

“He was pretty beat up. To me, it looks to be personal and not random.”

Give the man a door prize. He surmised that from the injuries. Anyone could do that shit. You don’t need to be a beat cop or a detective to put two and two together.

I would bet my life that Mark didn’t tell them why I kicked his ass, and for now, I’m not about to tell them either.

It isn’t my place.

I’m not his victim, and if Zoey wants that shit locked down tight, I’ll lock it down. I’ll serve whatever stupid-ass jail time they want to give me because men like Mark don’t even deserve to breathe.

“Lawyer,” I say again, drawing the word out super slowly and spending a particularly long time on the letter R. I rub my fingers together, feeling the sticky residue of the ink they used for fingerprinting as I glare at the man .

He ignores my request this time. “Was there a specific reason you attacked Mr. Jones?”

I stare at Officer Williams and keep my mouth shut. My brother always hammered that shit into my head. Giving any answer to any question is a no-no. It could be the best answer, and the cops would find a way to twist that shit into the worst.

“Mr. Jones’s injuries were extensive. He has a broken arm, a concussion, a broken jaw, a broken nose, and three broken fingers.”

My only regret is that I didn’t break all ten, but I am not about to tell the cop that.

I don’t make a sound, only stare.

“He’s still in the hospital after the surgery to have his jaw wired shut.”

Sucks for him, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not happy about his suffering because I damn well am.

“We have a written statement from the victim because he’s unable to talk. He claims he’d never seen you before that night and had no idea why you would attack him.”

I only wish I’d fucking made his dick unusable so he wouldn’t have the ability to violate someone in the same way he did Zoey. That is my only regret about the entire shitshow.

The door to the interview room opens, and a man pops his head inside. “Lawyer’s here.”

“Damn it,” Officer Williams mutters as he scoops up the papers in front of us. “I’ll be back. ”

I turn my head in his direction as he walks toward the door, knowing this isn’t over, even if Hal is here to try to save the day.

Hal steps into the room a moment later, takes the seat across from me, and holds up a finger.

I follow his lead, remaining silent. I’ve never been in this position before. This is my brother’s life, never mine. Well, at least not until now.

A good minute later, Hal finally opens his mouth, “I never thought I’d get that call.”

“Makes two of us.”

“What happened?”

I glance around, wondering if anyone is listening.

“Attorney-client privilege. They can’t listen.”

I sigh and ease back into my chair with my arms in front of me, still cuffed to the damn table. “The asshole took part in an assault on one of my friends.”

“What kind of assault?”

“She’s female,” I tell him.

Hal clucks his tongue as he nods. “Got it.”

“She was terrified, and I thought I’d teach Mark a lesson so it doesn’t happen to her again.”