Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 182075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Rock raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I mean, it’s not every day that some crazy guy comes running up to us, demanding to be let back into the club. That was . . . odd. But you cannot spend your life guarding me. You’re my man, not my bodyguard. I want you to walk beside me, not behind me. Because I love you. You are everything to me. And you are not less than me or the others, understand?”
“Always less than you.” He looked stubborn and she knew that she couldn’t convince him otherwise.
“All right. Me first. But then you guys are all even. You’re not the bodyguard. You’re not on the fringes. You’re our family. Understand?”
He frowned slightly, but then he nodded and she thought she might finally be getting through to him. “Understand.”
“Damn, you two are sickening,” Margo said.
Shoot. She’d forgotten that they had an audience. She glanced over at Margo and Lemon, feeling her cheeks redden. “Sorry.”
Lemon waved her hand through the air, smiling at them both as she bounced on her feet.
“Yeah, don’t mind us,” Margo said. “We’ll just wait.” She sounded put-out but there was a softness to her face. And almost a . . . longing in her voice?
Made Indie wonder about her relationship with Pete.
“I guess we better get home,” Indie said as Rock opened the car door for her, lifting her in. Then he crouched and pulled the seatbelt over her, checking that it was secured properly.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m all good.”
“Let’s go, though,” Margo said from the backseat where she and Lemon had gotten in. “I’ve had enough excitement. I need a cup of tea.”
Rock scowled at them. Uh-oh. They’d just trampled over his gentlemanly manners.
“What?” Margo said.
“He’s frowning because you got into the car yourselves,” she explained. “Rock’s a gentleman. He likes to open doors.”
“Oh.” Margo eyed him. “I haven’t spent a lot of time with you, Rock. But I’m starting to really like you. My cousin needs to work harder to stay number one on my list.”
Indie couldn’t help but giggle. But then her head thumped again. Shoot.
Rock gave her a concerned look and rubbed her temple.
“Just a headache,” she told him. “I didn’t get to eat lunch.”
His scowl grew fiercer.
“I’m fine. I’ll get something at home. Do you think Roger will create problems?”
Margo snorted from the backseat. “One thing in the world is a constant, and that’s Roger St. Clare will always create problems.”
Awesome.
57
Turns out, Margo was right.
Roger St. Clare couldn’t help but make issues. They’d gotten home and Rock was making her something to eat while messaging the guys, when two police officers turned up.
By this time, her headache had reached piercing level and she couldn’t stand how much light was in the room. Which wasn’t a lot since it was an overcast day.
Margo and Lemon had already headed home. Lemon had looked wrung out and Margo had been giving her concerned look.
She needed to check in with her later.
“There has been a complaint laid that you got physical with a Mr. Roger St. Clare earlier, Mr. Holden,” one officer said to Rock as he set a plate of food in front of her. It held a selection of food. Cut-up carrots and cucumber with dips and camembert. Some crackers. Cherry tomatoes. It all looked delicious and yet she knew she would likely vomit if she tried to eat it.
But when Rock held up some carrot with dip on it to her mouth, she felt like she had to take a bite.
“Mr. Holden?” the same officer said as the other one looked around in wonder at the large windows looking out on Hyde Park. “Did you hear what I said? You need to come down to the precinct with us.”
Panic filled her and she let out a small cry of protest, grabbing onto Rock as though she could keep him with her.
He frowned, shaking his head, then glared at the two officers. What should she do? How could she help? She should get him a lawyer.
Wait . . . she was a lawyer. Not a criminal lawyer but still . . . she knew enough.
“Is he under arrest?” she asked.
The officer stared down at her in interest as Rock attempted to feed her again. “Uh, well, it’s in his best interests to come to the station. Mr. St. Clare said he beat him.”
“Did he? Does he have evidence?” she asked.
“He doesn’t. But we can check for cameras.”
“He didn’t mention witnesses then?” she asked.
“No. Were there witnesses?”
“Yes. Three of them. Myself included. Also Margo Slade and . . . well, I don’t know her name. Slade will, though.”
“I do,” Slade said, walking into the room with Spencer.
She slumped in relief. Thank God they were here.
Spencer sat on her other side, drawing her in to lean against him. “Poor Princess. Look at you. You’re so pale. And I heard St. Clare threatened you and Lemon.”