Fighting Dirty - Sidney Halston Page 0,55

door.

“What’s the problem?” the officer asked.

“I need you to let Ms. Calhoun go.”

The officer sat down, stretched his legs out, and gestured for Enzo to have a seat.

“Now. I need her out now,” Enzo clarified, refusing to sit.

“You can’t have it both ways, Silva. Either we arrest the punks vandalizing the streets and hit them with, and I quote, ‘the fullest extent of the law,’ or we don’t.”

“They’re not vandalizing anything. It’s art.”

O’Neill snorted. “Art?” He casually placed his hands behind his neck, interlacing his fingers. “Between alcohol and drugs, that woman’s mother practically makes that cell her second home, so I’m having a little trouble wrapping my head around the fact that there’s obviously something going on with you and her daughter. The Silva I know has been up my ass for seven months to arrest everyone that even set foot in the Design District. You told us you needed an example set and then you gave us a $250,000 donation to make sure the project was funded. So now what? I let this one go, or all of them?”

Enzo wanted to punch the smug officer. “I was wrong,” he said instead, his palms on the desk, leaning toward O’Neill. “I want the arrests stopped.”

“Oh, relax, I’ll get her out. Don’t you want her to sweat a little? Maybe she’ll learn her lesson.”

Enzo’s response was an involuntary snarl he didn’t even know he was capable of making.

The officer gave an ugly laugh as he planted his feet back on the floor. “But I’m not stopping. That area needs to be cleaned out. Smith, get Calhoun processed and released,” he called to another officer.

Enzo grunted, and the noise made O’Neil take notice. “Never mind,” he called back. “Just release her and hand me her file.” He leaned toward Enzo and whispered, “I’ll destroy her papers.”

Enzo nodded as he walked away from O’Neill and toward the jail cell. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be there, but he dared anyone to say otherwise. He was incensed. The problem was that all the anger was directed at himself. This was all his fault. The police were only doing their job. For years that area had been a slum and no one gave a shit about the goings-on, not until he came in, waved his money and power around, and pointed all eyes to that area. Now, it was like a snowball that was out of control, and once Jamie Lynn found out about his involvement, he’d lose her forever. And damn if his heart hadn’t started to palpitate when he saw her behind those bars. She’d looked small and scared, and every single protective instinct he had, and even some he didn’t even know he had, made him want to break down the door and carry her out and never let her go.

To top it off, he was also upset she hadn’t called him. They’d spent four days together. He might not have a claim on her, but surely they were at least friends. And she knew he was a friend with lots of money and connections. Her well-meaning brother would’ve had to wait until morning for her to go through arraignment before he could have her bailed out.

“Hi,” she said as soon as she walked out of the cell, her head and shoulders bowed.

He grabbed her by the belt loops on her paint-stained jeans and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. Once she melted into him, he let out a breath.

“Let’s go home, baby,” he said, and she nodded into his chest. With her tucked in at his side, they walked out, and it took a lot of restraint for him not to growl at Travis when he pulled his sister to him and hugged her. He didn’t want her away from him even for a second.

“You okay? What the hell were you doing in the Design District in the middle of the night?” Travis asked.

“I’m fine, Trav.” She ignored the second part of the question. “Just tired.”

“Jam—”

Enzo cut him off. “Why don’t we discuss this all tomorrow?”

Jamie Lynn looked up at Enzo. “What did you tell them? Do I have to come back tomorrow for the arraignment?”

“No, sweetheart.” He pulled her toward him again, aware that Travis was eyeing him, but done with caring what Travis thought. What anyone thought. Jamie Lynn was his. Period. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

She nodded, but Enzo knew her well enough to understand that as soon as she was back to