Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,157

account, I can’t undo years of conditioning that tell me I have reason to fear. To be cautious. Even before that summer day with Jade on the playground, I had an uneasy relationship with law enforcement. We all did in my neighborhood. After that, it only worsened. After that, it was never the same. Since Greg joined LAPD, I’ve met many good cops, and things have changed a lot in my neighborhood, but it’s still a deeply rotten system. When the cop taps the window, that’s something I can’t forget.

“Is there a problem, officer?” I ask through the half-open window.

His assessing eyes flick past me and over my shoulder, roaming over Bristol. I don’t have to look at her to know what he sees. I’ve memorized her. The burnished hair is wild and loose around her shoulders. Her lips, pink and soft. Her dress reaches mid-thigh, but sitting, the hem rises even higher. His glance, though impersonal, lingers on her long, toned legs. The longer his eyes rest on her, the less I feel like dealing with this shit. I’m relieved when he looks back to my face.

“There’s been suspicious activity in the area, so we’re doing some routine stops.” He steps back. “License and registration, please.”

Suspicious activity my ass. I am the suspicious activity. My driving a two-hundred-thousand dollar Rover in this neighborhood is grounds enough. My driving this car here with a white woman in the passenger seat? An imperfect shit storm.

“Any weapons in the vehicle?” he asks.

Here we go.

“A 9mm in the middle console.” My eyes don’t stray from his. “I have a permit for it.”

“I’d like to inspect the firearm and conduct a search,” the officer says. “Could you step out of the vehicle?”

I could refuse, but the last thing I need is for him to feel like I’m being “uncooperative” and that he needs to call for back up. I pass the license and my permit through the open window.

“What’s this about?” Bristol leans over to demand of the police officer. “He isn’t getting out until you tell us what this is about.”

“Bris,” I say. “I’ve got this.”

“But he hasn’t even really told us why we—”

“Be quiet.” The words come out sharp and short. The hurt in her eyes twists my heart around, softening the shell that started forming as soon I saw that blue light. “Please. Just let me handle it.”

She sits back, rebellion in the tight line of her mouth. She studies her nails as if she couldn’t care less what happens next, but I know her better than that.

I open the door and step out.

“Sorry about that, officer, she just—”

“I’m putting these cuffs on as a precaution,” he cuts in. “Just while I search the vehicle.”

Cuffs? Shit.

He turns me roughly, rocking my chest into the car, pulling my arms behind my back, and clamping the cuffs on my wrists.

Bristol isn’t pretending to be fascinated by her nails anymore. I feel her eyes latched onto me. I asked her to be quiet, but her shock and dismay at how quickly the situation has changed create a choking silence. He pats down my shoulders and arms, at my waist, inside my thighs and all the way down to my ankles. Rage boils up from a long-stirring cauldron in my belly, but I hear my mother’s voice.

Do whatever it takes to make it home, Marlon.

When he’s done, I turn and stand toe to toe with him for a few seconds, towering over him, dwarfing him. I have every advantage except the one the badge affords him

“The car isn’t mine yet,” I say calmly, ignoring the chafe of the cuffs. “I’m test driving it.”

“All right.” He tilts his head toward the curb. “Why don't you test drive that curb while I check the vehicle?”

A battle cry shreds the inside of my throat, desperate to escape. But it isn’t time for fighting. I have to maintain control in what could, with one wrong word or move, become a volatile situation. I can’t afford to lose control.

How many times did I sit on some damn curb, my boys and me? Pulled off basketball courts, out of cars, laid on our stomachs, stretched in the middle of streets like animals? Humiliation and rage linking us like some urban chain gang. If I think about it too long, I’ll do something stupid. I just want this over so we can be on our way. I keep telling myself that, but the longer this goes on, the harder it is to