Cruel Shame (Knights of Templar Academy #3) - Sofia Daniel Page 0,4

swallowed hard. “They weren’t so gentle when they were arresting me, and I hadn’t even done anything wrong.”

He pressed his lips to my temple. “At least one of them will get what they deserve.”

Mr. Burgh walked up to us and offered his hand. “Thank you, Mr. Nevis. If you hadn’t arrived when you had…”

“It was my pleasure, sir.” Orlando took his hand, and they shook.

Mr. Burgh’s gaze dropped down to me. A mix of emotions flickered across his features—rage on my behalf and relief that I had escaped Myra’s clutches with my life. “I need to accompany Miss Highmore to the station,” he said. “Will you stay with Mr. Nevis and the twins until I return?”

All the tension I’d been holding tight released in a rush, and a lump formed in my throat. “Ye—”

“Help me.” Myra threw herself against the wall and rolled onto the floor. “Lilah Hancock lured me into her room and tried to shoot me in the head. I fought back and snatched the gun from her fingers. Now, her boyfriend and grandfather wrestled me to the ground. They’re saying I was the attacker!”

Chapter Three

My shoulders drooped, and I gave Myra the filthiest stare I could muster. The witch-faced wretch shot me a triumphant smirk before walking out with the policeman, only for his partner to step toward me.

“Miss, you’ll have to accompany me—”

“She’s lying,” said Orlando. “I entered the room to find Myra Highmore holding the gun, not Lilah. ”

“Which is consistent with Miss Highmore’s statement,” said the officer.

My eyes narrowed. Did he think criminals told the truth? Not even the police in Richley were this stupid.

Mr. Burgh stepped back into the room. “My granddaughter is the victim of a gun attack. She’s in need of urgent medical attention, not an interrogation.”

The officer glanced at one of the marksmen standing at the window. I huffed an annoyed breath. Could these dicks not make a decision?

Moments later, a man wearing an Aran jumper stepped into the room. I tried not to roll my eyes, recognizing him as Detective Chief Inspector Cromar, who had interviewed me in Glasgow police station when Elizabeth had framed me for the possession of cocaine.

“Lilah Hancock, we meet again,” he said in a voice that probably sounded like Sean Connery’s James Bond in his head. DCI Cromar swaggered toward me with a hand in his pocket, looking like he had come to wank and not do any police work.

A pair of paramedics appeared over his shoulder, surveying the broken glass and blood over the floor. The female of the pair locked eyes with me.

Ignoring DCI Cromar, I stood on my tiptoes and beckoned them over. “Over here!”

The detective’s face fell. “Lilah—”

“I’m not talking to anyone until I get my wounds fixed,” I snapped.

He stepped back to the wall and rested against it with his arms folded across his chest.

My nostrils flared. “Are you going to stand there and watch a seventeen-year-old girl take off her top and tights?”

DCI Cromar’s face turned pink. “Of course, not.”

Orlando stepped forward, blocking his view of me. “I saw what happened, and no one has taken my statement yet.”

DCI Cromar gestured for Orlando to accompany him outside the room. Orlando offered me a tight smile before leaving, and my insides deflated at the loss of his presence.

The female paramedic pulled up a seat, while her male partner walked to the window and pulled the curtains shut, blocking the police marksmen from getting a show.

“My name’s Tania,” said the paramedic. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Before I could reply, a female officer slipped inside with a forensic bag. She snapped on a pair of gloves, placed the gun in her transparent bag, and scribbled something on its cover with a sharpie. Instead of leaving to join her colleagues, she hovered close to us and pulled out a notebook.

While I told Tania the entire sorry story, she and her colleague cut me out of my clothes, then cleaned and patched up my wounds with saline, gauze, and bandages. I still couldn’t hear anything in my left ear, and according to them, this was because of a concussion.

Throughout this, the female officer watched from her corner of the room, taking notes. Maybe they would form part of my statement. I had no idea, but at least she wasn’t Lady Liddell in disguise.

The male paramedic shone a light in my eyes for the second time. “We’d like to take you to the nearest Accident and Emergency department for stitches and observation. Do