Page 71 of Under the Radar

Dan looked at her, his voice scathing. “Given the fact that you fuck him, I can’t really take your word for it.”

I reached around her, pushing her behind me and getting his face.

“Watch yourself, asshole.”

“That’s Officer Meyers to you.”

“Keep pushing me, and I’ll forget you’re a cop.”

“You gonna hit me?” he taunted.

I curled my hands into fists, but Hannah gripped my arm, stopping me.

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, no matter how much you goad me. If you’re going to arrest me, do it. Or write me another ticket—whatever makes you feel better. At least this time, you didn’t pull your gun.”

I heard Hannah’s low gasp, and I cursed internally. I hadn’t meant to say that.

“Do whatever you need to, Officer.” I indicated the truck. “Hannah, wait inside. It’s cold.”

“I don’t think so,” she replied.

Dan narrowed his eyes, looking between us. “I’ll let you off with a warning, Mr. Donner. But I’ll be watching.”

He turned and headed to his car, calling over his shoulder, “And I’ll be waiting until your cab comes.”

He got in his cruiser, and I tugged Hannah with me. “Let’s go wait in the bar.”

Back out front, a cab was idling at the curb, and we slid in. I didn’t know the driver, so I gave him my address, still fuming. Hannah was quiet during the short ride, Dan’s cruiser following us all the way. I handed the cabbie a twenty, muttering my thanks, and we walked up the steps and into the house. Inside, I turned and watched as Dan sat at the end of the driveway for a minute, then slowly drove off. He flashed his lights before he drove off, making sure the neighbors knew I had been followed by a cop. The bastard.

I shook my head, relieved and still angry. Turning to Hannah, I met her eyes, knowing what was about to happen.

“He pulled you over already?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Thursday.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”

I sighed, dropping my head. “I didn’t want to ruin the weekend. Trust Danny boy to do it for me.”

She stepped closer. “He pulled his gun on you?”

I tugged her to the sofa, grateful she wasn’t furious with me. I told her what had happened. She listened with a frown on her face. “He has overstepped.”

I laughed, the sound bitter. “Yes, he has. And I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’ll talk to my boss.”

“No. He is being a prick, but it’s his word against mine. The guy with the record against a police officer. I was speeding—even if it was barely over the limit. I was drinking, and I should never have started the truck. All I was thinking about was getting you warm.” I scrubbed my face. “He was doing his job. Just zealously.”

“Because of me.”

“He’s jealous.” I dared to wrap my arm around her. “I don’t blame him.”

“I hate that he is doing this. I’ll talk to him.”