Page 84 of Boss and Brat

Ethan swallowed. “I—I don’t know.”

The officer’s expression said he didn’t believe him. “Seems targeted.”

Ethan’s mouth went dry in an instant. His palms began to feel clammy and slick. He hated how small he felt under that stern stare—like he was already guilty of something.

Carter stepped in, voice steady but edged. “He said he doesn’t know. Don’t put words in his mouth.”

Duarte straightened. “I’m just asking questions, Mr. Higgins. Part of the investigation.”

“Ask them without the attitude,” Carter shot back.

Ethan’s breath hitched. Carter wasn’t raising his voice, but the warning was clear. Protective. Solid. Like a wall between Ethan and the officer’s cold scrutiny.

Duarte exhaled through his nose. “Fine. Let’s get statements.”

They sat at the kitchen table—well, Carter sat. Ethan hovered behind him until Carter tugged a chair out with his boot.

“Sit,” Carter murmured.

Ethan did, though his leg bounced uncontrollably.

Duarte clicked his pen. “Start from when you arrived home.”

Carter spoke first, calm and direct. Ethan tried to follow his lead, but when it was his turn, his voice trembled. He hated that. Hated giving Duarte anything that looked like weakness.

“And you didn’t see anyone suspicious earlier today?” Duarte asked.

“No,” Ethan said. “We were gone all day.”

Duarte’s eyes narrowed. “You sure about that?”

A queasy feeling twisted in Ethan’s gut. “Yes. I’m sure.”

Carter leaned forward, tone dropping. “Officer, if you have a real question, ask it. Otherwise stop implying he’s lying.”

Duarte raised his voice. “I’m doing my job, Mr. Higgins.”

“And I’m protecting Ethan under my roof,” Carter said. “So do your job without treating him like a suspect.”

Silence stretched for a beat.

Duarte slammed his notebook shut. “I’ll file the report. Get a patrol to drive by tonight.”

Duarte gave Ethan one last look—cool, unreadable, but heavy enough to make Ethan’s skin crawl—then left.

The door shut.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “He hates me,” he whispered.

Carter turned to him immediately. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just an ass.”

Ethan shook his head. “No. He… he looks at me like I’m trouble. Like I deserve this.”

Carter stepped closer, gripping Ethan’s shoulders. “Listen to me. You didn’t deserve any of this. And I’m not letting anyone—cop or not—treat you like he did.”

Ethan’s eyes burned. “I’m scared, Carter.”

“I know,” Carter said. “But you’re not alone. I’m right here.”