Wicked Company

Chapter Fifteen

Hawkins tightened the cuffs behind my back, the metal pinching into my skin, no doubt going to leave a hellacious mark.

"Damn! You could at least let me have a safe word, here! I'm thinking 'barbecue sauce'."

He huffed, pushing me down in the chair. It rattled against the sudden movement, the freezing cold of the metal seat shocking my ass even through my pants.

He stalked over to his own chair, sitting down ungracefully with an irritated flop. "When pigs fly."

I grimaced. "Ew. Why would that be your safe word? That's awful. You'd never use that in the heat of the moment. And if you do think of pigs in the moment, trust me, little birdy, you're the one that needs to be in cuffs. Not me."

"I hate you."

"No! My heart." I wrenched forward, gasping. "It can't take the pain. How will I go on?" I laughed, sitting back up. "Hate is a strong word, you know. Words hurt."

"Fully aware, Dani. It's why I used it."

"Dick."

"Shithead."

"Ball-less little-"

"Both of you, shut it! You-" Miles stood abruptly, kicking his chair back before he pointed to his partner, eyes narrowed dangerously, "stop antagonizing her. And you-" his finger landed on me, "stop assaulting federal agents! God dammit!"

He fell back into his seat, exasperated, rubbing his temples. My agitated gaze shifted to Hawkins, who also looked inherently scolded.

"Tucker Ellis is being booked, yes, but I'm not telling you why until you tell us the rest of the story."

"That's bullshit, Miles!"

"I'm sorry, but I need you to tell me something of relevance before I can explain his arrest."

"Well what do you need me to tell you?"

"I can't answer that or you'll only tell me that and nothing more. I'll let you know when we get there."

I huffed, shifting uncomfortably. Wincing against the continuous pinch of the cuffs, Hawkins sighed and stood, making his way over to take them off.

"Don't hit me," he warned.

"No promises."

"Wait a minute. Why the hell would barbecue sauce be used in the fucking bedroom? You know what? Nevermind. I don't want to know."

I chuckled and winked up at him, but he shook his head with the slightest of smirks and gestured for me to continue my story, sitting back down next to Miles.

Grumbling, I rubbed at my newly-freed wrists and leaned back, my joking demeanor gone at the realization that Tucker was now behind bars, possibly because of me. But I couldn't show them that. Miles would see it a mile off and would know I felt guilt and would demand to know why. So I kicked back, literally, slamming my feet down on the table with an exaggerated clang, crossing my arms over my chest to get comfortable.

"Where was I?"

____________________

~ Four years ago ~

"Dude, it's been five fucking months! How have they still not sent the right fucking size spark kit?" I threw my wrench, watching as it skidded across the floor from where I sat, only stopping when it hit Johnny's foot as he bent in the engine of a Mercedes.

He jolted straight, but his head slammed into the underside of the hood and he boomed a curse, stumbling backwards until his foot snagged on mine. He went down, hard, landing with his feet sprawled out over my legs.