Flynn shakes her head. “Not here. Can we at least go out on the sidewalk? Because I need some fresh air like now, and Ineverwant to come back.”
“Well, you’ll have to because I just paid your bond, and if you don’t show up in court, I lose it.”
“Come on. Let’s go.” Gabriel holds out a hand to me, and I take it and follow him outside.
Once we’re on the walkway, Q stares down Flynn. “They impound your car too?”
Her shoulders go back, and her chin shoots up. “What makes you think this has anything to do with my car?”
“It’s a logical assumption, considering what you’ve been doing.”
Flynn shakes her head. “I don’t really want to tell you. God, it’s fucking embarrassing.”
“What? I’m starting to freak out here, and I need to know what’s going on before I make some crazy guesses,” I tell her.
Flynn’s gaze drops to the pavement. “They picked me up for prostitution. Okay?” Her head comes up, and her face is now completely red.
All four men near me choke. “What?”
Q bursts out, “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re hooking now too?” He begins to pace.
“No! It was all a misunderstanding.”
“Want to tell us what happened?” Gabriel asks, his tone gentle and not the least bit judgmental. I’m tempted to kiss him right here just for that.
“I went out with some guy, and we ended up at a frat party. I don’t usually do frat parties, but I was bored and didn’t have a race, and I don’t know how to sleep at night much anymore. So I went. And when we were there, the cops busted the party because they got tipped off that prostitutes were there ...”
“And they thought you were one too?” I stare at the tiny crop top she’s wearing, and the skirt and thigh-high boots. Although they’re designer and definitely not hooker wear, I can see how cops who are intent on scooping up everyone possible made a mistake.
Flynn shrugs. “Yeah. Talk about humiliating.”
“What about this fucking guy who brought you?” Q demands, his expression like a thundercloud. “Didn’t he vouch for you?”
Flynn presses her lips together and shakes her head. After a beat of silence, she says, “He ran. Left me there to get arrested with the actual hookers and a few other girls.”
“Didn’t they look at your student ID?” Gabriel asks. “I don’t get how they could fuck that up so badly. They can’t just raid a party and accuse all the females of prostitution.”
“I didn’t have it on me, and they didn’t believe anything I said to them. They treated me like a criminal. It was awful.” Flynn sounds defeated, which is light years away from her bubbly, confident self.
“Maybe you should remember how that feels the next time you decide to go racing,” Q says, his tone sharp.
Flynn pins her shoulders back once more and glares at him. “Go fuck yourself. I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life.” She looks to me. “Can you give me a ride home? I really want a shower and to fall into bed and pretend the last fourteen hours of my life didn’t happen.”
“Why didn’t you call me sooner?” I ask, aghast at the thought of Flynn sitting in a cell for fourteen hours.
“Take it up with the justice system and apparently every hooker in town. I got my phone call when they gave it to me. It was a really busy night up in this joint. Can we go?” She looks like a lost little girl, and I nod.
“Absolutely. Let’s get you out of here.”
“At least give her your damn sweatshirt, Marcus. For Christ’s sake, the girl’s probably freezing. Did we not teach you manners at all?” Big Mike says, looking at Q disapprovingly.
Q peels it off and hands it to Flynn. “Here. Keep it.”
Flynn takes it from him with a quiet thank-you before slipping it on over her crop top.
Gabriel holds out his arm to point us in the direction of wherever Hal must have parked. “This way. Q, you want me to drop you off at the club, or are you going back to Jersey?”
Q’s gaze is glued to Flynn in his sweatshirt, and he has to yank his attention away to meet Gabriel’s eyes.