The drive passes in the blink of an eye; but when I pull up to the gate and see police cars sitting there with lights flashing, dread floods my system.
What the fuck happened now?
I pull in through the gate, and one of the cars follows me up the drive. My heart sinks as ice cold fear squeezes my heart.
Please let Smithy be okay.
I put the car in the garage, making sure it’s safely tucked away before hauling ass outside to the waiting police. “Evening, Officers, how can I help? What’s wrong?”
“Miss Octavia Royal?” one of them asks, stepping forward.
I nod, clutching my arms around myself, praying to God this isn’t as bad as my mind tells me it is.
“Miss Royal, you are under arrest for the assault and battery of Miss Blair Royal.”
My jaw drops to the fucking floor at his words. “You have got to be kidding me.”
The officer moves toward me, grabs me, and spins me around, pulling my wrists behind my back. The cold metal of the cuffs stings my skin, and once he secures them, they’re way too fucking tight. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Lincoln appears, roaring at the officers as he storms across the front yard. The officer that has a hold of me manhandles me into the back of his police car while I watch another officer try to handle Lincoln.
I lean my head back on the headrest as the door slams on the car before the officer climbs in and starts the engine.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, my cousin fucking ups the stakes.
Fuck my actual life.
* * *
I sit in this holding cell for what feels like hours before an officer arrives to walk me to an interrogation room.
My shock must show on my face when the door opens and I find Lincoln standing inside waiting for me. The officer laughs under his breath. He walks me over to the chair and undoes the cuffs.
“Good luck, kid,” is all he says before he walks away, leaving me in the room with Lincoln.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, looking nervously around the room. I’ve never been arrested before, and this is scary as fucking shit. I haven’t even had my phone call yet. I have zero fucking idea what’s going on or how the hell I get out of this.
He sits in the chair on the opposite side of the table, watching me closely. I can’t tell which Lincoln Saint sits opposite me. The guy who crept through my window to help keep my nightmares at bay or the one who declared open war on me when I returned here. “I’m here to get you out.”
“Then why am I still locked in here?” I fold my arms across my chest, trying to create some heat. The entire station is fucking freezing, and I’m in nothing more than my little denim cutoffs and tank top that I wore to fight night. I’m definitely regretting the outfit, given the circumstances. I likely still look like I was fucked within an inch of my life. Since I didn’t get a chance to clean up, there’s no way he can’t tell.
Lincoln frowns at me before steepling his fingers beneath his chin. “There are stipulations.”
I bark out a laugh at him and sit in the chair. “Of course there fucking are. Go on then.”
“You need to leave Echoes Cove. Within twenty-four hours of your release. You can not have any contact with anyone here, and you can’t ever return.”
I laugh incredulously, but his expression hasn’t changed. “You can’t be serious?”
I watch his face as he waits for my answer, and I realize he really is serious. This is fucking insane. So much for our truce.
“I’m not leaving, Lincoln. You might have your reasons for wanting me gone, but I have reasons keeping me here too. Yours are no more valid than mine.” I huff and run a hand through my hair. What an asshole he is, using this against me. It occurs to me that the truce was a lie. That he could be working with Blair to manipulate me into this position, making it impossible for me not to accept his help.
“I won’t ask you a third time, Octavia. Agree to leave, and I’ll have you out of here in the next five minutes.” He folds his arms over his chest, looking like the arrogant fuck that he is. He thinks he has me, that he’s won. But he doesn’t know me. Not anymore. Not really.
“Fuck you, Lincoln. I’ll get myself out of here without your help.” I let out a deep sigh, wondering if that’s actually even possible, but I’ll be fucked if I’m agreeing to his terms.
His hands shake as his jaw clenches, his rage on show for anyone to see. Except I’m the only one here to witness him unraveling. He stands to attention, the metal chair flying backward with the force of his movement, and he slams his hands down on the table, making me jump. “You’re a fucking fool, Octavia.”