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35

We got to the police department while it was still dark. When we checked in at the front desk, the duty officer buzzed us on through the glass door.

A tall man wearing a dark jacket with police insignia met us on the other side. He had the same stoic air that Mr. MacCruder had, though he wasn’t quite as old – or weather-beaten.

“Ryan,” the man said as reached out to shake hands.

“Chief Patterson. Thanks for the call.”

“Just trying to help out.” He looked over at me.

“This is Kaitlyn Reynolds… a friend of Derek’s and mine,” Ryan introduced me.

I shook his hand as we exchanged hellos.

“Well… let’s take a walk,” the chief said.

We went back outside. About 200 feet down the street was a medium-sized building – the county jail, according to the sign outside. The chief led us in, then escorted us through all the checkpoints and past a series of gated doors.

The entire time, my body was shaking. I couldn’t believe that it had come to this. If Ryan was right about my wanting a fairytale, this wasn’t it.

And yet… I so desperately wanted a happy ending.

We finally reached a row of empty cells. At the very end was Derek.

He was sitting on the bed bolted into the wall. He was hunched over, his elbows on his knees. His clothes were still wet, and his hair was a mess. The smell of liquor rolled out of the cell like a fog.

When he heard our footsteps, he raised his head. He looked even worse than he had back at the ranch. The fluorescent lights blanched his olive skin to a sickly yellow and emphasized the dark circles under his eyes. His features were even more gaunt than I remembered. He looked exhausted.

The first face he found was mine.

Our eyes locked.

And his mildly pissed-off expression turned to violent anger.

“Oh, fucking

great,”

he snarled.

“Son, I told you you better watch that mouth,” the chief said wearily.

Derek just glared at him. Then he shifted his gaze to Ryan and laughed bitterly. “First you fuck my girlfriend, now you’re here to gloat? This is just perfect.”

Ryan got a little flustered and glanced over at the chief of police, who didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the soap opera claims.

“I told you, nothing’s going on between Kaitlyn and me,” Ryan said.


Right.

” Derek looked at me. “You want to lie to me, too?”

“I’m not lying. Neither is Ryan. We haven’t slept together, we haven’t kissed – nothing,” I said, irritated. Any hopes of a happy ending were quickly slipping away. “Why won’t you believe us?”

“Because I know better.” He got a vicious look in his eyes, the look of revenge. “I’m sure you told your old boyfriend

we

didn’t sleep together, too, didn’t you?”

Ouch.

I hated him for that one.

“Now I know what he felt like,” Derek continued.

He’d overplayed his hand with that statement, though. It brought me back to my senses.

“No, now you know what

I

felt like when I found you cheating on me,” I snapped. “Oh, wait – no you don’t. Since I didn’t fucking

cheat

on you, you asshole.”

Derek glared at me – and then suddenly jumped to his feet and yelled in frustration. He turned away from us, his hands grasping his hair like he was trying to pull it out.

It startled me. Scared me a little.

Derek got to the end of his cell and looked over his shoulder at the police chief. “Why’d you bring them here, anyway? Is this some sort of cruel and unusual punishment routine? A new way to fuck with the prisoners?”

“They’re here to say goodbye,” the police chief said.

Derek’s face suddenly went blank with shock. He turned around and looked at me in a panic, 180 degrees emotionally from where he had been just seconds before. “What?! Where are you going?!”

Part of me held out hope that maybe, just maybe, everything else had been an act. Pain and suffering masquerading as bravado.

“They’re not going anywhere,” the police chief explained. “You are.”

Now Derek settled into suspicion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The police chief laid it all out in broad strokes. Derek could face up to a year in jail for simple assault. He had two choices: take his chances with the hanging judge, or leave town immediately on the next flight out of Rapid City.

“Bullshit,” Derek raged. “This is complete bullshit.”

The police chief shrugged. “Be my guest and try your luck.”

Derek turned to Ryan. If looks could kill, Ryan would have already flat-lined.


You

set this up, you fucking bastard,” he snarled.

“Actually, no,

you

set it up by getting in a goddamn bar fight instead of going and sleeping it off like I told you to,” Ryan snapped. “I’m the only reason you’re not going to do time.”

“This is bullshit – a year for a fucking fight with some redneck in a casino?” Derek yelled at the police chief. “Do you know who the fuck I am?!”

Oh GOD. Here we go again,

I thought in disgust.

But the police chief played it differently than Mr. MacCruder.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Which is why I made a call to your friend here.”


Fuck

him! This is ridiculous – anywhere else I’d just get probation!”

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