Dragon's Second Chance Romance - Riley Storm Page 0,19
Claire’s head.
“Lil, he’s not my type!”
Lilly laughed.
Claire frowned at the phone.
Lilly laughed some more.
“Okay, okay,” she muttered. “What’s so funny?”
“Because, Claire, did you ever think that maybe that’s just what you need? Someone not your type?”
Claire grew dour. “Not right now,” she said, her mind drawn to Pete and his threats to out her to the police. “I’m not sure I need anything right now.”
Lilly calmed, the humor leaving her voice. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” Claire said with a heavy sigh, flopping back onto the bed. “Everything is a mess. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Lilly said slowly.
“Thanks. I just need to think. Thanks for answering.”
Claire hung up, the phone sliding from her hand onto the pillow.
Everything was most definitely a mess.
And I’m pretty sure it’s only going to get worse.
Chapter Eleven
Claire
She awoke to the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. Recognizing the tread of her father when he was trying to give her advance warning that he was coming, Claire got up and put on some pants out of decency.
“Dad?” she called, opening the door. “What’s going on? Why are you down here?”
Her father, a short, thin man with a full head of gray hair and wearing a standard two-piece black business suit, paused on the second to last stair, looking across the open space at her.
“What’s wrong?” Claire said as the look on his face registered with her. “Is mom okay?”
“Your mother is fine,” Chuck Owens said.
“Then what the hell is going on? You look distraught, dad.”
She hurried over to him, but he shook his head. “I’m fine.”
“What is it then?”
Her father sighed. “Claire. The police are at the door. They say they have an arrest warrant for you.”
“Oh,” she said dully. “Crap.”
Her mother appeared at the top of the stairs. “You don’t sound very surprised.”
Claire’s shoulders slumped. She sighed heavily, declining to elaborate. “Tell them I’ll be upstairs in a moment. I’m just getting dressed.”
Her mother frowned down at her.
Turning quickly to ignore the disappointed look she knew would be in her father’s eyes, Claire hurried to the room and got dressed in comfortable but practical clothing.
Who knows when I might have a chance to get changed again?
Her eyes came to rest on her phone, and she had a sudden urge to call Pietro, to let him know where she was going, where he could find her, but she declined. Instead, she just pocketed the phone—thank goodness for practical leggings!—and headed back out of the room.
Once more, she brushed past her father without looking him in the face. She knew if she did, she’d lose her composure at what she saw.
Fitted in leggings and a loose t-shirt, she put on running shoes and went up the stairs. Her mother was waiting by the door. Beyond it were two policemen and a policewoman, all from the Five Peaks Sheriff’s Department.
Pushing open the door with calm resignation, she thrust her hands at the officers. “I’ll go peacefully. You won’t get any issues with me.”
The officers nodded, but they put the handcuffs on her, nonetheless. The only concession to her attitude was that they put them on with her arms in front of, not behind, her.
The female deputy led her out of the house. Claire didn’t look back. She didn’t want to see the disappointment in her parents. With everything else going on, it would be the last straw. Everyone had their limits. That was hers.
“Here,” the deputy said, pulling open the door to her SUV and gesturing for Claire to get in. “Have a seat.”
“Yeah,” Claire said heavily, getting in without resisting.
What was the point after all? Like her mother had said, Claire wasn’t surprised that she was under arrest. The only part of it that did surprise her was the timing of it all.
Obviously, after his tussle with Pietro the night before and being denied her company, Pete had gone ahead and given the footage to the police right away, forgoing the two-day grace period he’d originally given her.
“Should have seen this coming,” she muttered heavily.
“What was that?” the female deputy asked as she slid into the front seat.
“Nothing. Just lamenting idiotic mistakes and choices in men.”
The woman was silent.
“Are you able to tell me what it is I’m under arrest for?”
“Grand theft auto,” the woman said, reading Claire the rest of her rights and asking her if she understood them.
Claire just grunted an assessment. “That figures. Asshole.”
The officer arched an eyebrow at her in question.
“Men,” was her only answer. “Are you able to