Page 4 of Poisoned Promise
“I didn’t! Michael was driving!”
“Do you think that makes this okay?!” I point at him and my heart breaks.
A broken right arm.
Bruises all down one side of his face and multiple small cuts and lacerations likely from broken glass. “Look at you, Alex! I thought you’d died?—!”
My voice breaks and I briefly cover my mouth to hold in the sob.
“I’m sorry,” Alex says weakly. “It was only supposed to be a bit of fun.”
“A bit of fun,” I repeat with a whisper. “Alex, do you have any idea what?—.”
“Ms. James?” A deeper voice from the doorway interrupts my rant and I spin on the spot.
“Yes?”
A man walks into the room, letting the door close softly behind him. Dressed in black slacks, worn shoes, and a blue shirt, he sniffs deeply as he looks me up and down, but as soon as he tries to look at Alex, I immediately block his line of sight with my body.
Tension prickles in the air and every muscle down my back tightens as the man shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls out a small leather wallet, briefly flashing me his I.D.
“I’m Detective Bolton. Now that you’re here, I want to ask Alex a few questions about the car he stole.”
Stole?!
This just gets better and better.
A pulse of hopelessness warms my chest but it pales to the alertness running through my body like an electric current.
I’ve done everything in my power to stay under the radar, to be a quiet, undisturbed member of society but now there’s a cop in front of me and one wrong step will send my carefully crafted life back into hell.
“Now isn’t a good time,” I reply. “Can I take your card and call you tomorrow? Alex needs rest.”
“No.”
My stomach tightens. “No?”
“No. You see, your son and his little friends stole a car, raced it around the city, and then crashed it into a storefront. The damages alone will be enough to wipe out anything you have saved for his tuition, never mind the scar on his reputation.” Bolton sniffs again as if something is lodged in the back of his throat. “And yours.”
“Mine?” I arch one brow. “I’m a beautician. I can’t imagine a car accident will affect my business. Please, leave.”
“You think this was just an accident?” Bolton steps forward and I widen my stance. “Your son is a thief. He stole from someone, someone who is very pissed at what the destruction of that car means for him. And what’s bad for his business will be bad for everyone else’s business, so let me tell you this, I don’t care ifyou’re a beautician or an EMT. There’s a debt now that needs to be paid.”
He walks the walk and carries the card but calling this bastard a cop is a disservice to all else who carry that badge.
“So you’re a little guard dog barking from the ankle of a Master,” I reply coolly. “My answer doesn’t change. You’re not talking to my son.”
“That’s fine.” Bolton surges forward and grabs my arm, twisting my wrist as he wrenches me close.
“Mom!” Alex’s cry from behind me ignites the intense, burning desire to tap into my old skills and break this man’s neck for even touching me, but the last thing I need is to escalate this more.
“Let go of me!”
“Listen here, bitch. I’m here to get payment, you understand? So you and me are going to take a little walk while my friend outside plays nice with your son and then?—.”
A rough cough from outside the door is the only warning Bolton gets because a second later, the doctor from before hurries through the door.
“Excuse me!” she barks as Bolton steps away from me, leaving my wrist burning. “You can’t be in here, Detective! I already told you to wait until visiting hours.”
