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“Soltorre.” My douche in shining uniform is outside the cell, talking to me.
I stand and walk toward the door.
“Bail is set. You get up to three phone calls.”
I rack my brain. Who would I even call right now?
I nod, and he opens the cell. This was fast. Maybe he knows he made a mistake.
“Do you have a phone book?” I ask, an idea forming.
He snorts. “Of course we have a phone book.”
He laughs like I’m stupid. I didn’t know if they still produced them in this age of the internet. He leads me to a tiny phone booth, slapping a Yellow Pages in front of me. I turn straight to the back and begin searching the ads for her business. I turn toMand then finally find what I’m looking for, a real smile taking over my face. It’s a weird sensation since I’ve been frowning for so long.
I dial the number and pray that it’s still current, and I even want to fist-bump the air as soon as I hear her voice.
“Miss Lulah’s. What can I do for you?”
I could cry.
“Miss Lulah, it’s me, Wryn,” I say.
“Wryn? Well, what are you doing in jail?” she asks.
I furrow my brow. How did she know that?
Duh, medium.
“It’s a long story, but I need someone to post bail for me and get me out. I’ll pay you back, I swear. I need help—”
“Slow down, dear. I’m already getting my purse. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Okay. I think they are holding me illegally. He didn’t read me all of my Miranda rights. That’s a thing, right?”
“We will get the bastard,” she says.
I breathe a sigh of relief. “You know where I am?”
“Of course I do,” is all she says before the line goes dead.
I stare at the receiver for a second before setting it back in the phone cradle, and then I rest my forehead on the side of the booth.
Finally, something good is coming my way. Miss Lulah will know what to do. And she will have clothes and food and maybe even a cup of hot chocolate. My tongue is already salivating at the thought.
Will she call Connor?
She didn’t say a thing about him though, so who knows?
“All right, time’s up. Let’s go,” the cop says.
His badge saysRitters, and I stare at it. I don’t want to look at his face. Ritters grabs my arm, hauling me along roughly. I guess myeat shitstatement really got to him. He shoves me back into the cell with the other two women, and I sit in the spot I previously occupied.
“You got people?” the girl in the short dress asks, and I look at her.
“Not really,” I say, and she nods as if she knows exactly what I mean.
I lean my head back and close my eyes, listening to the clock tick down the second until Miss Lulah gets here. It won’t be a moment too soon.
