Cruel Seduction - Kelli Callahan Page 0,83

is currently taking a leak in the corner, not bothering to aim in the toilet.

“What the fuck? Hey! How did I get here? Where am I?”

“Wow, you really don’t remember?” the cop laughs. “You must have really been wasted.”

“I wasn’t drinking.”

“Not what you’re beer-soaked shirt said when we found you dumped near our door this morning.”

Wow. He must feel like a really smart man.

Fucking idiot.

I lift my shirt to my nose and inhale, wincing when I smell the alcohol. “I’ll take a breathalyzer to proof I didn’t drink a drop, or a blood test. I was set up. Someone poured this on me. I have a knot the size of fucking Texas on my head.” I regret when I raise my voice because my head throbs harder. “Where is she?” I glance around looking for Gabriella. “Where is Gabby?”

“Gabby? There’s no women here. You’re at the Trinidad County Jail. Don’t you remember anything?”

“No… I… She isn’t here? No. No. No,” I whisper, holding my hand against the wound on my head. “You don’t understand.” I grip the bars with my hands and shove my face between the rods. “He has her! He has her. You need to let me out of here. You need to let me go so I can find her. You don’t know what’s happened. Fuck!” I scream, then kick the cell door with my foot.

“Calm the hell down, or I’ll write you up for insubordination. You already have a kidnapping charge.”

“I didn’t kidnap anyone! He kidnapped her! You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Explain it to your lawyer,” the cop says, the familiar cling of the cell brings back memories I don’t want to think about. I have to remain clam. Gabriella needs me more than ever right now.

Zeke power makes all the cops look at him as he strolls through in his Armani suit. His hair is slicked back, shining with product, and if I have to describe what he looks like, I’d say a mafia boss.

“Zeke, I’m fucking glad to see you.” I am alleviated. My worries are cut short when I see his money-hungry, bloodthirsty face.

The cop places the cuffs around my wrist, and Zeke lifts up his hand, speaking in a thick New Yorker accent. “He won’t be needing those. He isn’t going to do anything, okay?”

“Your funeral.”

“Yeah, but it will be a fucking beautiful one, ya know?” Zeke pats my back and guides me to the interrogation room. His briefcase is large, leather, and black. It looks like it holds a lot of secrets, mine included. “We don’t need a guard.” Only it sounds like ‘gahd’ which makes my mouth twitch with a smile.

When we get into the room, Zeke shuts the door, and I sit in the metal chair on the left side of the table. “What the fuck were you thinking, eh? I told you not to go get arrested, and what did you do? You went and fucking got arrested. Jesus Christ. It’s fellas like you who give me a job. Always in and out of shitholes like this.” He takes a cigarette out of his pocket, places it between his lips, and lights it with a match instead of a lighter.

The smoke swirls for a second before it clears. Zeke sits in the chair opposite me and crosses his legs, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “So,” he asks impatiently. “What the fuck, Sebastian. Eh? Come on, you know better than to get arrested.” Only it sounds like bettah which makes me want to smile again.

But he isn’t joking around. He is pissed.

“Zeke, you have to know, I didn’t get arrested on purpose. Do you remember Gabriella?”

“The poor girl that your brother had.”

“Yeah, well she was with me on her own free will. We found her. Kendrick did awful things to her. I didn’t kidnap her, and the last thing I remember before waking up here is hiking in the Avenue of the Giants with her. Everything after that is black. She isn’t with me. Kendrick has her, Zeke. We have to get her back. Who knows what will—”

He holds up his hand to tell me to shut up while he opens his briefcase. “I know all about your Gabriella. Officer Howard and I have been in communication. I have all the pictures, testimony, and everything.”

“You know Officer Howard?”

“Ah, yeah, he and I go way back. I owe him some money actually.” Zeke waves his fingers at me, the ones that hold the cigarette. “I fucking