“What’d they want with him?” the sheriff asked.
“Same as before. Just talkin’.”
“Any blood?”
The deputy snorted. “Only a little.”
“Thought so.”
“How long we keepin’ him?” the deputy asked.
“Sid said until the morning. Then we turn him loose.”
“Yessir.”
The left wall of the hallway changed to the open, vertical iron bars of a jail cell, and the man they were talking about came into view. He sat on a bench with his head resting back against the wall like he was sleeping. His faded blue jeans had holes in the knees, and a leather jacket was draped across his lap. Strong arms bulged from his black T-shirt, and I caught a glimpse underneath one of the sleeves of what looked like tattoo ink peeking out on his right bicep. He wheezed while breathing, and his sexy face was twisted with pain.
I didn’t normally go for the bad-boy biker type, especially one who was sitting in a jail cell. But this guy? He was one of the most gorgeous men I had ever seen in my life. Even while wincing in pain, he exuded sexy charm.
“Hey,” I said to the sheriff. “Is he okay?”
He barked a mocking laugh. “Who, Jayce? Don’t go worrying about him.” His voice boomed a little higher, “He’s a dead man, he just don’t know it yet. Or maybe youdoknow it, huh boy?”
The man—Jayce—didn’t respond. His eyes opened and then followed me as I was led to the cell next to his. The sheriff removed my handcuffs, and then the bars banged shut behind me with an ominous clang.
I’m in jail,I thought pitifully.I’m actually standing in jail.
I turned and grabbed the bars with both hands. They were as cold as ice. “Don’t I get a phone call?”
“Phone’s right there,” the sheriff said, pointing to the wall just outside the cell. “Knock yourself out.”
I waited until he walked away before rushing to the phone. It was the old kind, made of yellow plastic and with a curly cord connecting it to the receiver on the wall.
“Don’t bother,” came a deep, but pained, voice.
I glanced over my shoulder. Jayce had turned his head to look at me. My better sense said to ignore anything that man said, but I’d had a long day. Plus, unlike the biker gang that had just marched out of here, he looked a lot cleaner and put-together. One of thegoodbikers.
One of the sexy ones, I thought.
“I can take care of myself, thank you very much,” I said curtly.
“Don’t doubt it,” he replied smoothly. “But I’m trying to tell you—”
“Leave me alone, please.” I picked up the phone and started dialing. Nothing happened. I hung up and then listened for a dial tone. Nothing. The numbers didn’t even beep when I pressed on them.
“Phone’s broken,” Jayce said. “That’s what I was trying to say. You’re not gonna get your call, Charlotte.”
“Oh.” I hung up the phone and walked to the bench, acutely aware that I was wearing heels in a jail cell. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I gave a start. “Wait. How do you know my name?”
He nodded toward the hallway. “Sheriff ran your license plate and called it in to the deputy. Checkin’ to make sure you didn’t have any priors. I heard their conversation.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Me? Priors?”
Jayce smiled with me and leaned his head against the wall again. I took a longer look at him. His hair was long, but tied back. It was so brown it was almost black, with lighter strands falling across his face. It was the cologne-model kind of messy that lots of guys spent hours in front of the mirror trying to perfect, but this guy wore the look naturally. Especially with the clean, short-cropped beard that covered his cheeks and jaw. And his eyes were like glistening sapphires, shining fearlessly in the jail.