Page 189 of Biker's Virgin


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“One call,” the taller cop replied.

Even as he said it, I wondered what my options were. I had no family to contact and my friends were all the men I fought fires with. There was Brent, but he wasn’t the kind of friend who was good in a crisis.

Then there was Megan. She was more than just a friend. She was my partner, my girlfriend… I would even go so far as to call her my soul mate. I supposed that put her under the category of family.

Then I thought about the reality of calling her and telling her I was in jail. I was wrongly accused, true, but I was still embarrassed about admitting where I was. I hoped against hope that this was all just a crazy misunderstanding and it would be cleared up by evening so that it could be the kind of story I shared with Megan that we could both laugh about later.

But as we drove up to the police station, I couldn’t help thinking that I didn’t see myself laughing about this for a while. I was angry…but I was scared, too. Someone had set me up, and if they had done a half-decent job, I could be looking at up to a decade in jail. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Fear of this very situation was what had driven me to change the path I was on.

I had worked so hard for so long and now I found myself in the same place my brother had been in a few years ago. Thinking about my brother made me feel even worse. Paul had been taken away in much the same way… He must have felt the same things that I did. Except in my case, I was truly innocent.

Still, I understood now the importance of having a support system around you at a time like this, and I was willing to admit that, innocent or guilty, I had let my brother down when he needed me the most.

I thought about Megan, and I desperately craved her presence. At the same time, I wanted to avoid having her see me like this. As we pulled up to the station, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that the court systems were designed to weed out the innocent from the guilty. I prayed that that was enough.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Megan

“Thinking about Phil again, aren’t you?” Marta asked, wagging her eyebrows at me.

I looked at her in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Because whenever you think about him, you have this big dopey smiled on your face,” she said, giving me a wink.

“I do not,” I said defensively.

“Oh, girl, you sure as hell do,” Marta nodded. “Every time.”

“Oh God,” I said, putting my face in my hands.

“That is so embarrassing.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“Oh God!” I said again.

She laughed. “I take it things are going well?”

“Very well.” I nodded. “We’ve been having so much fun together and when I’m over at his place, it feels like we’re…”

“We’re what?” Marta asked when I tapered off.

“Well, it kind of feels like we’re married.”

“Is that something that interests you?” she asked.

“I’ve never really thought about it before,” I admitted. “But I suppose since meeting Phil, I have been having these dreams.”

“Wedding dreams?”

“Kind of,” I admitted. “Lame, I know.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s not lame to dream about marrying the man you love,” Marta said.

“It’s way too soon,” I said. “We’re not even living together really, and Phil’s job keeps him so busy. I don’t think he’d have the time to get married, even if he wanted to.”

“Maybe you should ask him?”

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