Ava
Stress makesme cry more than funerals. I’m talking big, ugly hiccups, and snot running over my lips like a mucous liner.
This. Is. Mortifying.
“Do they always leave captives sequestered like this?” I murmur and huddle closer to Sasha while we watch Hudson have words with the officer who’d been placed with us. “Don’t they take us to . . . I don’t know, the brig?”
“The brig?” Sasha snickers. “Hon, we’re not planning on setting sail anytime soon.”
I close my eyes, a wave of mortifying heat washes over me. Serves me right for reading a pirate fantasy romance all weekend. I have Captain Stone on the mind.
Sasha sighs. “They call it the cage in the central booking area.”
My mouth drops. “That’s worse!”
The officer who’s been questioning me and Sasha looks a little sheepish now that Hudson has explained the entire situation and flashed his badge more than once. But there is still the take no prisoners attitude when he gives a slight nod and moves aside.
“I have complaints, Hudson,” Sasha says after we’re finally given the okay to go. “Why, tell me why, Ava and I were shoved into an impromptu interrogation and not you or Drake?”
“They were questioning us. But we had our creds on us.”
“And it took them this long to read a fire and police badge? Don’t they know you?”
“I know you think I’m a famous cop, baby, but I’m not even in the same division.” Hudson is obviously trying not to smile as he wraps an arm around Sasha’s shoulders, looking at both of us. “You all right? It gets a little chaotic sometimes.”
“The only reason I’m letting it go is because you’re a cop, and I bet you were overzealous when you first started,” Sasha snaps.
Hudson laughs, but after a minute he gives me a sympathetic look. “Sorry about this, Avie. Sort of put a damper on something awesome.”
“Carina is going to kill me.” I clamp my hands over my burning cheeks. “You know they’ll call her with a police report since her name is on the sign-in.”
Hudson doesn’t deny it, and simply rests a hand on my shoulder. “She can’t get mad when this wasn’t your fault.”
Oh, that’s hilarious. Carina will find a way to blame this on me. I close my eyes and try to calm the rush of blood to my head, the pound of my pulse in the back of my throat. “Why did the cops think we were breaking in?”
Hudson lets out a long sigh. “Someone called. A neighbor, probably. I was going to ask after I checked on you two. People likely know the couple is out of town, so they just reacted.”
Knowing it was all a misunderstanding doesn’t slow my pulse. It felt like the entire bomb squad was bursting through the door. The longer I take to look around, the more I realize there are only three cop cars and a total of six police officers.
Still, I would’ve liked to not have fallen into a puddle of ugly crying in front of so many people. It’s a reaction to high stress. My therapist once told me, due to things I experienced so young in life, I’ve developed wailing as my defense mechanism. Some people fight, some people flee, some people freeze. I burst into uncontrollable sobs.
Awesome.
I barely hear Hudson and his sweet promises that soon we’re going to laugh about this, and step out into the entryway of the house. Dusty footprints mark the front entry, the kitchen, and the front of the living room.
Looks like I’ll be here until the wee hours. I’m not allowing the newlyweds to come home to such a mess.
“Hey.” Drake steps next to my side, hands in his pockets. His jaw pulses with irritation.
Drake towers over me at his six three to my petite five four, but I use my shoulder to nudge his. “Hey.”
Funny, but his frustration eases mine. Always the protector. I know my brother enough to know he’s not frustrated his night was uprooted; he’s angry on my behalf. I love the guy, but he’s going to get an ulcer worrying someday.
It’s what he’s always done, I guess.
“I’m going to stick around and help you clean up,” Drake says.
“D, no.” I place a hand on his shoulder. “You have Charlie and work and—”
