I belatedly realized all eyes were on me.
While I’d likely been staring blankly at them like a lonely freak.
“What?” I asked.
His brows were pinched with concern. “Judge asked if the detectives said anything to you that they didn’t share with the rest of the class.”
“Oh. No. They found nothing.” I thought it over again. “I know we counted out the guy from earlier, but maybe we were wrong.If his arm was just sore, he could’ve popped some pain meds and been ready to go.”
“Not with the way it was hanging there.”
Glitch clicked around his computer. “What time?”
I shook my head. “You won’t be able to see. They brought him out the emergency exit?—”
“Got it,” he interrupted as he turned the computer and pressed play.
Oh shit.
Very little made me squeamish. Very,verylittle. But the way the guy’s arm dangled did it.
“Damn, woman,” Judge said. He’d heard me tell the detectives, so I wasn’t sure why he sounded so shocked.
Jury’s gaze darted from the screen to me. “Wait.Lodid that?
“All Lo,” Rhys said with unmistakable pride in his voice. “Bouncers didn’t have the chance to rescue the guy before she had him pinned to the bar with his arm behind his back.”
“I didn’t mean to do serious damage,” I rushed out, not wanting them to get the wrong idea about me. “I’m not like that.”
He’d pulled away last time, but at my words, Rhys wrapped his arm back around me. I could hear and feel the timbre of his gritted, “He had worse coming.”
“I’m still beginning to rethink having you over to the clubhouse tomorrow,” Judge said.
How did I forget about the fried chicken invite?
I was about to plead for him not to rescind the tasty invitation when a wide grin split his face. “Getting you and O together will be chaos. I’ll tell everyone to wear a cupandwatch their arms.”
“Oof,” Glitch said, and I looked over in time to see footage of the guy getting into the waiting car. Only instead of being escorted by Warner, it was Rhys who handled it.
And not in the gentle manner the injury called for.
“So, yeah, definitely not him,” Glitch rushed out as he slammed the screen closed.
And I pretended I hadn’t seen anything.
“Would’ve been helpful if the prick tied a motive note to one of the bricks,” Hollywood said. “Or a villain soliloquy in front of a camera and without the face coverings.”
“And in song,” Jury added.
They went back and forth about other options, but my exhausted brain was a jumble of my own racing thoughts.
Motives. Babies. Friendship. Fried chicken. Babies again. Babies even more because trying to block them out just made the imaginary newborns multiply like they had a spawning cheat code.
“What’s wrong?” Rhys asked softly.
Nothing I’m telling you about.
“Just thinking,” I said.
