Michael’s attention snapped to me and his eyes narrowed. “Five-foot-three. Long, curly black hair. Attitude from hell. Refusal to touch shit because of germs.”
A grin kicked up on Michael’s face. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Michael hung up his phone and shoved it back into his pocket.
“So, on a scale of one to he’s really pissed, what was he at?” I asked.
“Sam Mackenzie’s baby sister, the sweetest little girl I ever did see, getting arrested? Yeah, he wasn’t happy.” He paused. “I have to take you back to the cell. I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “You boys keep saying that tonight. Yet, none of you were there when the man refused to let me leave, and then his bodyguard tried to hurt me.”
Michael’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
I told him what happened at the bar, and he looked pissed on my behalf.
“You know who Rogan is, don’t you?” Michael asked as he opened the cell back up.
“No freakin’ idea,” I mumbled. “But, sadly, there are about twenty witnesses saying that I was the instigator.”
“That’s because Rogan Germain is an A-list actor here to film a movie. I think it’s called the Runweavers? I don’t know. But the police department has been doing some hella crowd control for them since they’ve been here,” Michael said as he opened the cell door.
I went inside and turned to see him narrowing his eyes on the women. “You need anything, call out.”
I wouldn’t.
I could take care of myself.
My brothers and father made sure of that.
***
I was resting my eyes, trying valiantly not to lean my head against the dirty, dingy wall at my back, when I heard the steps.
Sighing in relief that he’d finally arrived, I stood up and walked to the bars.
Sam appeared seconds later with Saint.
Michael was showing him something on his phone.
My eyes went to the phone where Sam’s eyes were glued, and the more he watched, the tenser his jaw became.
They both stopped at the front of the cell, and Rowdy Rhonda and Twat Tiffany cat-called.
I grinned when Sam finally looked up. “It’s nice to know that you still got it, bro.”
Sam’s eyes were hard as he said, “I don’t need a couple of drunk girls to let me know that I still got it, honey.”
The arrogance of my brother.
I grinned and crossed my arms, feeling a sudden chill.
“I’m ready to go,” I said to him.
Michael opened the door and gestured me out.
“I’ll go with him, too!” Twat Tiffany called out.
“Your twat done been used too many times for that man to ever take a second look at it,” one of the girls from the bridal party called out.
And, since Twat Tiffany had been privy to the reason the ladies were in there in the first place, she didn’t rise to the bait that the woman had thrown at her.
At least she had some sense.
Sam reached forward and ran his hand down my arm, causing me to wince. “Oww.”
Sam’s eyes went to my arm that was now sporting a rather impressive bruise.
His jaw tightened.
“She shouldn’t have been arrested,” Sam muttered to Saint.
Michael shrugged. “Sadly, she was the one that started it. And the recipient of that punch does have the right to press charges. Did he deserve it? Yes. But he didn’t do anything wrong enough, at least outwardly, to deserve that. At least appearance-wise.”
Sam grumbled something underneath his breath, then his eyes came to me. “You’re done working there.”
I shrugged. “I’ll work there until I find something else.”
“You have enough money in your account to quit. And Lynn will give you a nice severance package,” he offered.
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll work there until I find something else.”
This was a fun game that I always played with my brothers and father.
I mean, I found a job, they made it worth my while to quit. Then I found one equally as offensive.
It worked out so well that I was able to get my dream car, a 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS, from Sam. It was also how I got my back tattoo paid for by my other brother, Sebastian.
One of these days, they’d offer me something really good, and I wouldn’t be able to turn them down.
Sam and I walked out of the police station about ten minutes later, and I made sure to wash my hands before we left.
I felt gross.
Not only had I spent most of the night working, and sweating, I’d then had to sit in that hell hole for a couple of hours.
Just as we were walking to Sam’s bike, a loud commotion from the side had both Sam and I turning to survey the crowd of people that were gathered there.
And in the middle of it was Adam.
His back was rippling, and he looked pissed as hell as he used his strong, muscular body to block a hole in the blockades that had been erected in the parking lot sometime after I’d arrived.
“What’s all that about?” I asked, stopping myself from fanning my face at the way Adam looked holding people back with the strength in his body alone.
“You punched a movie star in the face, Amelia,” Sam said. “Did you honestly think that people wouldn’t notice that? Or record it?”
I hadn’t really thought about it at all.
I didn’t know that the man was a fucking movie star.
Not that knowing would’ve stopped me from decking the piece of shit.
“I felt uncomfortable,” I told Sam. “Like seriously, the men were blocking me in. Three huge guys. What did you want me to do? Spread my legs…”
“I wanted you to do exactly what you did,” he growled, stopping me before I could get too offensive. “Fucking asshole. It’ll die down.”
It might.
Or it might not.
There was no telling.
But I could definitely tell I was no longer the favorite person in Kilgore, Texas anymore.
Oh well.
“Take me to my car, please,” I said softly.
Sam did as asked, and just before I got off of his bike, he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m proud of you, Amelia,” Sam said.
I’d heard the words before, of course. But not often.
More often I heard other things.
Things like: you’re a pain in my ass, Amelia. Amelia, you need to learn more patience. Amelia, you shouldn’t work at a strip club. I told you so, Amelia. Amelia, you need to learn to fight your own battles. Amelia, why won’t you let us protect you? Amelia, why do you give me heart palpitations?
I grinned at my brother, then, for good measure, I threw myself into his arms and wrapped my arms around him tight.
“Love you,” he rumbled.
“Love you, too,” I replied just before climbing into my car.
He watched me go, his eyes on me the entire way out of the parking lot.