The Brick Wall

Chapter 80

Curtis POV

  A gentle breeze could've blown me over when a tall graying officer opened the door and told me I was free to go. The desire to question what the hell he could possibly mean is rather strong, but I've learned to keep my mouth shut unless necessary. 

  This moment doesn't call for that.

  Walking out into a hallway, my hand flexing, breaking apart the dried blood that cakes the knuckles, I look in both directions.  The hallway is long, narrow. I spot the exit sign hanging over a door to the left. 

  "Patti at the front has your belongings."

  There's no apology, no remorse. Can't say I blame him. I let my anger get to me and while the prick deserved much more than what I gave him, I suppose he came to his senses and decided not to show up and press charges.

  So tell me why the bruised and bloody professor is being shoved through the door in front of my, fighting against the officer who's holding his arms behind his back while another is struggling to latch the cuffs.

  I flatten myself against the wall, giving them as much room as my large frame can offer. Edwards jerks to the right, the officers countering by slamming him into the wall just past me. He sneers through a smile, blood now spattering around his teeth from the impact.  The guy actually chuckles when the clamp of the metal fills the hall. I'm expecting him to speak, to be angry that his buddies must've come clean about his abuse in power and his idea of appropriate extracurriculars but he keeps his words locked tight.

  Instinctively, I want to knock the grin right off his face once more. However, the idea of getting back to the hotel and wrapping Collins in my arms paints a much prettier picture than sitting behind some bars in a smelly jail cell so I peel myself off the wall and continue towards the exit without another word.

  A door to the right pops open, a young female officer in full uniform steps out with an empty coffee cup, allowing me a glance into the room.  I spot the guy who arrested me, a family member to my coach, but across from the cluttered desk is Collins.  The opportunity is short, less than a full second before the door is closing in my face. 

  My hand reaches for the door when the officer who told me to leave speaks up.  "The exit is that way."

  I'm floored with confusion as I step away before continuing down the hall, the buzz of fluorescent lights humming above me.  

  It's fine. I'll get my crap from Patti and sit and wait. I'm pissed that the officer called her to even drag her into this mess. She has no clue what happened tonight, and hearing it from him will most definitely paint me in an ill light. 

I don't like the idea of her being here while her assailant is just down the hall. What if whoever turned him in isn't believed and she's still here? What if the other two jackasses stories don't match and they just let him walk back out onto the streets to find another woman to attempt his 'no' theory with.

I shove through the door a little harder than normal, agitation beginning to build again at the thought of the piece of garbage sharing the same air as my girl. With a one track mind I step up to Patti, give my name and tuck away my wallet, phone and slip my watch back onto my wrist.  

Turning on my heel, I notice I'm not alone in the front lobby. Collins' brother, my coach, is jumping up from the seat, eyes blazing before he shoves me hard towards a wall. 

 A short grunt falls from me before Patti is already signaling for an officer. "Sir. I'd advise you to step back," she warns Mark. 

  He doesn't listen, his hands now gripping the front of my shirt, wrinkling the fabric in his fists. "What have you done to her?" he asks through gritted teeth, spit flying.