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“SHIT! Franklin STOP!” I try to pull them apart, but we cross into the coffee table, shattering the glass.
The next few minutes are a complete and utter disaster.
Police break down the door. Wolf is dragged out in cuffs. An EMT is checking my arms to make sure I don’t need stitches as I watch Malachi giving a statement.
“I’m not pressing charges. DROP IT.” He walks over to me, leaving another police officer watching us closely.
“The cuts are all superficial. I don’t see a need for her to go to the hospital, sir.” He nods at the EMT and then kisses my head.
“What a mess.” I sigh as I look around the living room but mean the whole fucking situation.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did wrong.” I cup his face.
“Nothing. For the record, I do love you. My brother is just an asshole.” I press my forehead to his.
“Go get dressed.” I raise an eyebrow at him.
“We need to get your brother out of lock up.” I nod and hop down from the kitchen counter.
* * *
“What the fuck do you mean you can’t let him out?” Malachi says to the officer.
“Andrews wants to hold him for questioning.” Malachi bangs his fist on the counter.
“Azizam, can you wait here?” He kisses me and walks into the back of the station.
I hear a door slam and shouting.
“Is it always this exciting around here?” I ask the guy at the desk, who snorts at me.
“Captain, this is bullshit! I’m not pressing charges on my future brother-in-law. It was a misunderstanding. In my private residence while I was off duty.” I can hear Malachi’s voice clearly through the closed door.
“You were in uniform.” A voice I don’t recognize says.
“That’s a fucking technicality! I had just gotten off. Captain?” He pleads, but I don’t hear the rest of the argument because the front doors slam open, drowning them out with a woman screaming about being set up.
Malachi comes storming out of the office he was in and takes my hand. He pulls me up and out of the station before he speaks a word.
“Does your brother have a lawyer?” He opens my door for me.
“Yes?” He nods and closes the door after I get in.
He rushes around the truck and gets in.
“Call them.” I let my head fall on the headrest as he drove out of the parking lot.
“Why?” I ask the question with my eyes closed.
“Andrews is our lead narcotics detective. He’s claiming Franklin was in possession of heroin.
“Bullshit!” I sit up straight and look at his face.
“I know it is. But this is just the start. Call the attorney Azizam.” He gets in the right lane to turn back to his house, but I stop him.
“No, go straight. We need to go to the clubhouse.” He glances at me before following my instructions.
“Why?” He looks confused.
