“I don’t want his apology,” Gigi cut in.
Cade’s shoulders went stiff when he heard her whisper. He did not turn to look at us. All his attention was on Donny as he jerked his chin at the door. “You heard her, then.Out.”
It was a small miracle, but Donny went without another word and without any more violence. Cade was on his heels the whole way, but paused for a moment at the threshold. His eyes cut straight to mine and I gaped at the burning fury in them.
He looked pissed.Beyondpissed. And not at Donny.
At me.
Shit!
Why was he pissed at me? I hadn’t done anything!
…Had I?
“I’m taking him to the station for booking,” he clipped. “I’ll be back for your statements.”
Then, with one last scathing look (againat me!)he was gone.
Neither Georgia nor I said a word to one another. There was nothing to say — and, at the same time, far too much. She moved to the window and peered out at the parking lot as Cade loaded Donny into the back of his SUV. I pulled on my gloves, then went to the bookshelf and started returning paperbacks to their proper places.
After a few minutes, I felt her kneel down next to me. I thought she’d come to help me with the books, but instead, she reached out and threw her arms around me in a hug that made my tender ribs spasm.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against my hair, her voice thick with tears. “I’m so sorry you had to witness that.”
“It’s okay, Gigi. It’s not your fault.”
“But he grabbed you. He hurt you! God, I—” She swallowed hard. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m so,sosorry,” she repeated. “I don’t know how to make it up to you but I swear I will.”
I pulled back to meet her eyes. “You have nothing to make up for. Now, help me with the rest of this shelf. Then, we’re having another glass of limoncello. My buzz has worn off and I don’t know about you, but I could use a little liquid courage before Cade gets back.”
Gigi’s lips tipped up in a smile — the first I’d seen from her since Donny’s arrival — as she reached for a fallen book.
* * *
Nearly an hour passed and Cade didn’t come back. I took this to mean he wasn’t planning on taking our statements tonight, after all. Maybe when he’d saidlaterhe really meanttomorrow.
Ornever.
Okay, maybe that was wishful thinking. But could you blame me? The idea of my name being listed in an official police report made every bit of my skin erupt in goosebumps.
I didn’t stay away from law enforcement because I had authority issues or an objection to navy uniforms or a dislike of shiny gold badges. I had my reasons for being skittish. Very good reasons.
Like Baltimore.
The Crawford case.
Six years ago.
That had been a colossal mess — one the men in charge were all too happy to blame me for when the situation went sideways. Even though I was only nineteen, still just a kid myself in many ways… even though I was only trying to help when no one else could…
In the end, none of that mattered. It was my picture that got splattered all over the papers. It was my name that got dragged through mud. Not the detectives working the case. Not the City Police Commissioner.
Me.