Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
My father watched with amused patience as my brain caught up with my heart. When he knew he had my attention, he said, “Whoever did this wants you to think she’s guilty.”
I followed his train of thought. “So, I’ll let him think I bought it, though, if that’s the plan, I should leave her in jail.”
My father shook his head. “But you’re not going to do that.”
“No, I’m not.” I wasn’t leaving her sitting in that cell, even if it was the strategic thing to do. She needed a doctor, a hot shower, and rest. And I needed her behind the walls of Heartstone Manor, insulated by Hawk’s security team, out of reach of whoever had set that fire and almost killed her.
“I’m proud of you, son,” my father said.
“Because I’m breaking the law to get my girlfriend out of jail?” I asked, a tiny smile cracking the side of my mouth.
He smiled and shook his head. “You make it sound so simple, but I know it’s not. Not for you who wants everything to be black and white, right or wrong. But life isn’t like that, West. You know as well as I do, most of life is grey, and sometimes we have to do the wrong thing to do the right thing. That girl doesn’t belong in jail, and we both know it.”
“You don’t know her well enough to say that,” I said.
“But I know you.” His eyes warmed as he stood, crossing the room to open a cabinet that hid his home office equipment. He pulled papers off the fax machine and handed them to me. “If you believe she’s innocent, that’s good enough for me.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I leaned in to give him a one-armed hug.
“Tell Avery we’ll be at Thanksgiving dinner,” he called after me.
I drove back to the station in a daze. On the way to my parents’ house, I’d imagined begging my father for help while he lorded it over me. We’d fought so often over my refusal to bend the rules, I’d figured he’d make me work for it. I’d forgotten that at the end of the day, he was still my father. He might wish I were more like him, but he loved me. He wanted me to be happy. And, the cynical side of my mind reminded me, he probably didn’t hate the idea of me hooking up with a Sawyer.
Putting my vehicle in park, I sat behind the wheel for a minute, trying to put together a game plan. I had the judge’s order to get Avery out of jail. That was step one. Now I had to figure out what came next.
Chapter Twenty-Four
AVERY
Iwas not enjoying jail.
I’d made the mistake of drinking both waters along with the granola bar before I realized that if I wanted to do anything about my full bladder, I’d have to use the exposed toilet in the corner—and that was not happening. I could probably start shouting to get someone’s attention, but the indignity of that kept my mouth shut. I could hold it for now.
I paced the cell, waiting for something to happen—anything. Since West left, I’d been alone in here except for the still-sleeping drunk at the other end. The door at the end of the hall was closed, cutting off the rest of the police station from this small block of cells.
I couldn’t stop trying to play out what would happen next. I knew West wouldn’t abandon me here, even if he was still angry at me over our argument. He would, at the very least, call Griffen and tell him his sister was in jail. He wouldn’t trash a lifelong friendship over the small fight we’d had. Unless he was angrier than I’d realized.
I shook my head, striding from one side of the cell to the other. It was possible, but it didn’t feel right. West was mad. I’d been mad. Neither of us was pissed off enough to do anything unforgivable.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about Ford—about his guilty plea and the year he’d spent in prison. They hadn’t had much more on him than they seemed to have on me. At least no one had been hurt at the brewery. That I knew of. Fuck, I didn’t know anything, locked back here by myself.
Hold it together, Avery.
And I would. I could. I was not going to fall apart now, but I hated this cell. The cold concrete and metal bars, the flaking paint, and the smell of sweat and the reek of smoke coming from me. I needed a shower and clean clothes. I wanted to go to sleep for a week. I wanted out.
I crossed my arms over my chest and slowed my pacing, my bladder making itself more known. Finally, I gave up and sat, squeezing my knees together. How long had I been here? I didn’t wear a watch these days, and they’d taken my phone. It was hard to gauge the passage of time. There was a window opposite the cell, but it was frosted over, with metal lines crisscrossing the glass. The light coming through was the same shade of weak yellow it had been when I’d arrived.