Page 27 of Steady Stroke
Footsteps pounded in his direction, and he flinched back. He scooted until his back hit the cabinets. The girl darted past him for the sink.
“I am so sorry, oh my God.” She ran water. “Shit, he’s going to kill me when he finds out about this.”
Relief flooded Emmett, and he let his strung-tight body relax a bit. She wasn’t going to attack him again. Instead, she squatted in front of him and held out a wet dishrag. Her face was twisted up with a different kind of fear—not of him, but for him.
“I’m so sorry. I’m Roxy. Here, please, wipe your face off.”
Emmett took the rag, which smelled like dish soap. It felt like sandpaper over an open wound but he used it anyway. He flinched from her touch when she tried to help him stand. She maintained distance while he washed his face in the kitchen sink with more soap.
The police siren sounded as he was reaching for a towel to dab his face dry.
His heart kicked.
“Oh shit,” Roxy said. “Hang tight, okay?”
Emmett clung to the sink, his stomach twisting inside out while Roxy ran to the front door. He waited, terrified of being arrested for doing nothing more than existing—especially if they asked to see his ID.
Whatever fast talking Roxy had attempted didn’t work, because she came back in with two city police officers in tow. A man and a woman, both young.
“See?” Roxy said, flapping a hand in his direction. “I’m not being coerced. It was a huge misunderstanding. I didn’t realize he was dating my roommate.”
Dating?
“And where is your roommate now?” the female officer asked.
Roxy heaved a dramatic sigh. “I told you, he’s sleeping off a migraine. He got a really bad concussion in a car accident last summer, so he gets super-awful migraines sometimes. Second door on the left if you don’t believe me.” She pointed at the hallway.
The male officer walked toward Emmett, and he couldn’t help shrinking back. He had no love for or faith in the police anymore. “What’s your name?”
He glanced at Roxy, who was watching them with open curiosity. The last thing Emmett wanted to do was give his real name, but if the officer asked to see his ID, he’d only land himself in more trouble. “Emilio Sharif,” he replied.
“Is Ms. Bounds’s story true?”
“Yes, sir. Well, mostly. I’m not dating Lincoln. We’re friends, and we spent the afternoon together. He forgot his sunglasses at lunch, and the sunshine triggered his migraine. I hadn’t met Roxy before, so me being here probably scared her. It would have scared me.” He pulled back on his babbling.
The officer gave him a once-over. “She got you good with that pepper spray.”
“I’m aware, yes.”
“You have ID?”
“Of course.” Emmett fumbled for his wallet and produced his driver’s license.
He wasn’t surprised when the officer took it and left. Probably to run the number and make sure he didn’t have a record—which he did not. Not a single speeding ticket.
“Is all of this really necessary?” Roxy asked. “I told you it was a mistake.”
“Why did you pepper-spray him, if it was a mistake?” the female officer asked.
“Because I freaked, okay? Look, I was nearly date-raped last summer, and I walk to my job, so I carry pepper spray on my key chain. All I saw was a strange guy in my home, and I reacted instead of asking him a simple question.” Roxy threw him an apologetic glance.
Emmett was a little surprised by the wealth of personal information she’d just verbalized to two strangers. But it seemed to catch the female officer’s sympathy, and even Emmett couldn’t totally blame her for coming on so strong. She’d seen a perceived threat and she had reacted to save herself.
Something else occurred to him. The officer had called her Ms. Bounds. “Are you related to Dominic?” Emmett asked.
Roxy grinned. “Yup. Sister. And before you ask, we’re both adopted.”
That definitely helped explain why she looked more Zendaya than Hudson Williams.
