“Get in the truck,” I tell her. “Lock it and call Ace and have him grab it.”
“I’m not leaving you?—”
“Lola. Get in the truck. Now.”
She doesn’t move.
The detective walks toward us. Two officers flanking him. The crowd from the bar gathers, phones raised, red and blue lights strobing across their faces.
“Mr. Sterling, you are in violation of your New Falls agreed bail conditions. Therefore, you are now under arrest for the murder of Ashley Edwards.”
The crowd gasps, and I grit my teeth. These motherfuckers.
“I’m here to collect my wife. She called me. There were gunshots. I’ll be leaving now.” I try my luck. But these assholes ain’t on my payroll. And they want me convicted for this, because it means they haven’t gotta do their jobs. Or, whoever is setting me up is the one paying them.
“Hands on the vehicle. Now.”
I don’t move.
“Hands on the vehicle, Mr. Sterling!”
I hesitate, and two officers rush me. The first grabs my right arm and wrenches it behind my back. The second goes for my left, but I resist, not to fight, just to turn my head. Just to see her one more time.
“Lola—”
They slam me face-first into the hood of the truck. The metal is still warm. My cheekbone hits the surface, and pain explodes across my face. My hat falls off and rolls onto the floor.
I hear her scream. Not scared. My girl is furious. “Get off him! He didn’t do anything! And you bastards know it!”
Violet is holding her back. Lola is fighting against her, trying to get to me, tears streaming down her face.
They wrench me off the hood and throw me to the ground. Knees hit the asphalt. Then my shoulder. Then my face. Gravel bites into my cheek. A boot presses between my shoulder blades.
The cuffs click around my wrists.
“I know my fucking rights,” I spit into the dirt.
They haul me up. Blood runs from above my eyebrow. My jacket is torn. The crowd is watching. Yet through all of it, I find her. Lola. Looking petrified. Violet’s arms locked around her waist. My ring on her finger.
“Call Ace,” I tell her. “Tell him what happened. He’ll know what to do.”
Drago is due at the ranch today, and it looks like he’s going to work the second he steps foot in Arizona. That man is going to have to work some miracles.
“Hunter—” Her voice breaks.
“I’m coming home, Lola. I promise you. This isn’t how this ends.”
They push me into the cruiser. Through the rear window, I watch her collapse against Violet.
The car pulls away. The red sundress disappears into the dark. I press my forehead against the glass.
I held my wife in a courthouse and promised her I’d fight. And now I’m in the back of a cruiser with blood on my face. But I meant what I said. This isn’t how this ends.
I’m coming home.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
LOLA