Daddy in Cowboy Boots (Montana Daddies #9) - Laylah Roberts Page 0,40
for Rosalind and she preferred to get everyone else to work while she went shopping or lounged around at home.
She hadn’t expected for someone like Ed to feel that way. But then, so far, he hadn’t acted at all like she’d thought he might. He’d been nothing but kind, understanding and even protective. Maybe it was time to stop painting all cops with the same brush. Just because she’d had an experience with one bad cop didn’t make them all bad.
Way to stereotype, Marisol.
“Marisol? You okay?”
“I don’t like cops.”
“Right. Got that. You’ve had a bad experience in the past?”
“Yeah. I was ten. They came to our house with a warrant for my aunt’s arrest. Rosalind always told me these stories about the cops back in Venezuela. How corrupt and terrifying they were. She said an officer killed her uncle for no good reason. So I was already scared of them. And then, this one cop, he . . .”
“Did he hurt you?” Ed asked in a voice that was darker than she’d ever heard from him.
“He didn’t touch me.” She let out a shuddering breath. “He didn’t have to. Not when his words terrified me so much. He kept telling me how I was headed to jail unless I told him everything I knew. That nobody would be around to protect me. That I’d likely be beaten and abused. As he was yelling, his arms were moving around and spittle flew from his mouth. Even though I knew I wouldn’t go to jail, his words scared me enough into believing him. Plus, I have a pretty good imagination.”
“Yes, I remember how you thought you were going to end up in jail and shanked by a piece of soap.”
“Oh yeah, sorry for overreacting.”
“Seems like you had a good reason for reacting the way you did,” he murmured calmly. “What happened?”
“He seemed like this terrifying monster to me. I curled myself into a ball in the corner of our living room. Even if I had known anything, which I didn’t, there was no way I could have told him.”
“Where the fuck were the other cops?”
“I think he was in charge. I don’t know. I only remember him. Until she came in.”
“Who?”
“The child services lady. She . . . she was amazing. She raced in the door, heard him screaming at me and she just ripped into him. She tore him to pieces. Told him all the things she was going to do to him. I can’t really remember now what she said, but I knew that even in my terrified state, she was on my side. Then he stepped towards her. I thought for sure he was going to hit her. I remember this next part. She said, ‘Do it, I’m not a helpless child. Hit me and I’ll have the proof I need to take you down and make you suffer’.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
“I don’t know if she was happy or sad that he didn’t hurt her. But he turned and left and she rushed over to me. She didn’t touch me. Just crouched down in front of me and started talking to me. She was my hero.”
“It sounds like she was. What happened after that? Did you go into child protective services?”
“The social worker, her name was Violet, she asked me if I had any family. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I gave her the name of our last housekeeper. Rosalind had fired her a month before. Nobody lasted long working for Rosalind. She usually found some fault with them and fired them or they quit. Violet must have known Ana wasn’t family, but somehow I was allowed to live with Ana and her family for a week.”
She rubbed at her forehead. “It was one of the best weeks of my life. Ana had four sons but no daughter. They treated me like I was family. Ana had only been with us for a year. My aunt treated her like trash, yet she took me in and took care of me. I was devastated when I had to leave. I cried the whole way home in the car.”
“What happened with your aunt?”
“I’m not sure. But whatever they’d arrested her for, they obviously couldn’t make it stick. We moved soon after to a new city. My aunt found another rich old man to marry. I never saw Ana again.”
“I’m so sorry, Marisol. Do you happen to remember the name of the cop that scared you?”