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“Ah, yes, of course, I was just surprised to hear that. That sounds so unlike her.”
“Not really,” the woman says coolly. “She’s got four priors.”
Of course she does.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I say. I hang up the phone.
“I’ll call the cab,” Paxton says. I shake my head.
“I’m going alone.”
“For God’s sake, Ruby, are you so afraid to depend on anyone that you won’t accept the simplest offer of help?” Paxton snaps at me.
“Yes. You got it right on the first try. I am an emotional coward, and I am sorry. You deserve better than me. Although, if you dated anyone else, I’d hate them, but that’s on me, not you. Ignore me, I’m babbling.”
And I race out the door.
28
RUBY
Do they put kids in the same cells as hardened criminals? Is Summer being beaten up right now? Is she terrified? She tends to get snarky to hide her emotions. What if she smarts off to a gang leader? Or worse, picks their pocket and then taunts them about it?
No, they couldn’t put her in a cell with adults. Could they?
My cab pulls up in front of the station, and as it does, I see another car pulling up. It’s an Uber. I throw some money at the cab driver and leap out.
Paxton hurries over to me.
“No,” I inform him.
He meets my gaze with a cool, determined stare. “I’m not leaving you to deal with this by yourself. Whether we’re dating or not, I’m your friend, and I said I will never bail on you again. This is me not bailing. So, I’m coming with you. Deal with it.” He turns and hurries up the steps, and I have to hurry to catch up to him.
“I was dealing with it,” I protested. “By myself.” But he doesn’t turn back to answer me, just keeps walking with long, determined strides.
I have to admit that I’m secretly relieved not to have to face this alone. I’m scared for Summer. My stomach is quaking and my nerves are jolting. This is a big deal. How many more times can she get away with getting in trouble? I don’t want her to end up getting sent away to a reformatory with teenage gang members who are basically adults, who deal drugs and stab people.
We stop at the desk to get directions, and of course the guy does a double-take when he recognizes Pax.
“Paxton Saul?” he cries out excitedly.
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry, man, we’re here to see someone,” Paxton says apologetically.
“Oh, sure, sure. Right this way.” The guy gets up to lead us through the building and down a hallway. He points out a grimy glass door.
Summer is sitting at a desk, coloring in a coloring book.
A stocky policewoman with short hair and dark brown skin, whose name tag identifies her as Officer Jones, is sitting at another desk, flipping through paperwork and drinking coffee.
When I walk in, Summer glances up at me. “Took you long enough. They beat me with rubber hoses,” she informs me.
“Did they really, now,” I say, and sit down next to her.
“Yep,” Officer Jones says dryly. “Standard practice. Is this the father? Aren’t you the hockey player?”
“I am a family friend, not the father, and yes, I’m the hockey player,” Paxton nods.
“Nice of you to come help.” Detective Jones almost smiles at him as she stands up. Paxton does have that effect on women. All women—older, younger, single, married—they just can’t help smiling when he’s around. She sets down her coffee cup. “Excuse me. I need to go hit the head now that you’re here. I’m not allowed to leave her alone. I’ll be right back. Do not try to leave the station.”
