Brady Remington Landed Me in Jail
Copyright © 2013 Tijan Meyer
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created by the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
When my phone rang at three in the morning, I wasn't surprised. It was a Friday night, now Saturday morning and I knew that my best friend had gone to a party. He always chose the party. I always chose to stay home for some good sense and a good book. Then the phone rang again and I picked it up before it woke my grandma. Viola wouldn't have been surprised by who was on the other end, but she would've stomped around harder than necessary in her clogs for the rest of the weekend. No one wanted that.
"Brady, I'm sleeping."
"You're a liar, Rayna Cassidy," he tsked me.
I rubbed the grit out of my eyes and scooted up against my headboard. Years had prepared me for what this phone call was going to be. "What'd you do?"
He chuckled. "Let's just say I'm not the one in the hospital, but I am calling from jail. Can you come get me?"
I groaned, even my bones were exhausted. "Who was it this time?"
"Why do you care?"
"Sorry. He's a loser and if I see him again, I'm going to pound him into dust."
"I hope there aren't any policemen near you." I thought of another time when a cop had overheard and not taken his threats lightly. Brady had stayed an extra five days with a doubled bail. I had not thought it was cute. He had.
"We get some privacy for these calls now. So are you coming or what? I'm itching for tacos."
"Tacos? Why do we always have to go there?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it." I grumbled and grinned at the same time. Then I threw back the sheets and my grin vanished. The cold air blasted me, but I threw some clothes on and ignored my sudden chills. With some money stuffed in my back pocket, I headed out the window and swung free from the last rung in the ladder to the ground. It was either too late or too early because the dew hadn't come out yet. However, the full moon was out and it highlighted the clothesline while I ducked underneath.
It was a short ten minute drive into Northshire Folk and after I swung through the two streetlights in town, past the closed bar, past Nellie's, I turned into the police station. Two squad cars were positioned at the front, but I knew they parked in the rear too. The main door, which was a glass door with 'The Northshire Folk Police Headquarters' emblazoned on it, jingled my arrival and I looked up to see Deputy Doug come out from the back room. His beige uniform had been pulled out of his pants with the tails in desperate need of an iron. The blonde comb-over had been neglected at some point that evening with thin wisps pointed in every direction except the way they were supposed to go, to the left. Needless to say, they didn't cover the wrinkles that seemed etched into his forehead either.
Deputy Doug had looked better, but I refused to believe it had anything to do with Brady. I told myself I didn't need to start being concerned now. It was hardly a worthwhile weekend for Brady without a trip to jail.
"Hey, Deputy Doug."
He squinted at me. "Rayna, is that you?"
"Can I post bail for him?"
Deputy Doug frowned and the old droop came over his sixty-something shoulders.
My stomach dropped. "What'd he do?"
"It's not what he did, but who." Deputy Doug shook his head and reached for a file. "You want to know who?"
Did I really?
Deputy Doug didn't wait for my response. "Kidrick Stephens."
"What?" I blinked. Kid used to be best friends with Brady, but he moved away two summers ago. He was the male me for Brady. My life became a lot easier when Kidrick left, but… "Wait—Kid's back?"
…and Brady put him in the hospital?
"Yeah, he's back," Deputy Doug huffed as he stamped something official on some papers. "He's back and his daddy is furious and now I have a monster headache. Do you know what's going to happen? Mr. Stephens is going to press charges against Brady and do you know what that means?"
Frank Stephens had been the town's golden boy. He bought most of the town, sold almost all of the businesses, and made millions off the entire exchange. To say that he was pompous and an ass was an understatement.
"He's going to press charges against Brady?" My stomach fell to the floor. Although we all knew this day would come…
Doug banged the papers on the table and aligned them a little too roughly. "And they're going to stick this time. Brady—he ain't…anyways—" He glanced over his shoulders and stopped. "Your boy's coming out now. Don't take him for breakfast this time, Rayna. Take him to get a lawyer because he's going to need it."
When I heard a back door click open, I glanced up and out came Brady with a stupid grin on his face. His blonde hair was flatter than normal and his tee shirt had been ripped across the chest. When he turned and I caught sight of the tattoo on his back, I saw that the entire back section of his shirt was gone too. The fight had gone bad, too bad.
"Deputy Dog!" Brady heralded. "Who do I have to thank for this hospitable visit?"
Deputy Doug stamped harder on a different pile of papers. "You don't have to thank no one, Brady."
Brady lifted his arms, turned back around, and another officer took off the handcuffs. When my best friend caught sight of me, the sparkling blue eyes sobered. "Heya, Rayna."
A tingle shot through my toes from his soft tone, but I clamped down on it. I didn't need to be getting hot and bothered by him, not tonight. Not ever.
When he took the papers from Deputy Doug, his shoulders tensed. I moved to his side and took the papers.
"Hey!" Brady protested.
I shooed him away. "We all know who can read here."
The papers read another court date where Brady would have to appear for assault charges. "You're charging him!" I cried out, but then remembered Deputy Doug's initial frustration.
"Well…" Deputy Doug glanced from Brady to me, but shook his head. "I just told you, Rayna. He assaulted Kidrick Stephens. We have witnesses that corroborate this. Mr. Stephens won't let this go away. He's not like the rest."
"It doesn't matter," I breathed out.
"Frank Stephens is an ass. I'll gladly see him in court," Brady growled.
I turned to see the Heat of the Moment Brady, where he'd do anything if it meant he would stand up for his beliefs. Most days that meant fighting, but this time was different. I realized that Brady wanted to see this thing through.
He ripped the papers out of my hands. "I'll see Frank Stephens in court. I have no problem dealing with him." And with that parting statement, he stormed out.
"Brady…" I was still reeling from confusion.
The door slammed shut on his heel.
Deputy Doug raised a hand to scratch his forehead. His fingers moved his comb-over backwards.
"What just happened?"
Deputy Doug leaned forward. He crinkled the papers on the counter. "You need to talk to him, Rayna. Brady messed up. He messed up real good this time. You know me. You know me and everyone else in town. We take kindly to Brady. I mean, we all feel like he's our own boy ‘cause of the way he showed up and how the Forresters took him in. We've all been through his struggles with the shoplifting and the boozing and the fighting—he still does the last two, but you know what I mean. He's become a good man, kind of. I'd hate to think that he's… We all know what happens if you get something on your record when you're an adult. It don't get erased that easy."
He stared at me with weary eyes and I took the papers that Brady had left behind. He had the car running and the passenger door opened for me. As soon as I got inside, he shot around and I fell across the seat into his lap.
Brady enfolded me against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around my waist and pinned me in place. I was helpless to move…and I didn't know if I wanted to.
"Brady. This is enough. Safety first. Being pissy later." I tried to ignore the pounding heartbeat in my ears. This was not the time for my stupid crush to act up.
Brady's tense jaw didn't agree with me. His shoulder muscles were bunched together and they only moved when his arm jerked to steer the car. I knew he REALLY didn't agree when I saw his jaw clench and his Adam's apple bob, stop midway, and stay there. I couldn't make out his eyes, and I suddenly wanted too. Badly.
An unnerving emotion washed over me.
Brady was fallible, that had never been questioned, but the fact that he might regret his fights—that had never been
. When he fought, there was always a reason behind it. Someone got hurt, insulted, disrespected. He never fought with bad intentions; it was always to protect others. There was something about him that made people believe in him. Brady bulldozed his way through anything and anyone. He'd apologize if he was wrong later, but he never,
regretted his initial decision.
.' My hand started to shake slightly. I'd never seen Brady scared. I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit.
"You can let me go." I felt like it was the right thing to say. Was it?
Brady didn't move. Instead, he slammed on the brakes and cursed. Then he pounded his hand against the steering wheel.
"Brad...d...y," my voice trembled. I hoped he hadn't caught it. So many things were off. The night started out wrong and it was only going to get worse. I opened my mouth—to what, I didn't know. I felt like I needed to apologize to him because I realized that I'd never comforted him. I felt like I needed to bully him how he always bullied me.
I was ashamed in that moment. And then—I watched, mesmerized, as Brady collapsed right before my eyes. His shoulders slumped. His face closed off and he seemed to crumble in front of me.
"Hey," I murmured as I sat up and cupped his face. As I did, I was aware of how close we were…and was it hot in here? I was about to burst into flame. Then I felt Brady turn and cup my face in turn.
His thumb started to caress my lips and rub against my bottom lip. He started to play with it. He stretched it out and then dipped between my two lips…and, oh my god, it slipped inside. My heart was going to pound itself out of my chest.
Brady rested his forehead against mine. "I don't know what I'm going to do, Ray."
His thumb swept beside my tongue and teased it. It dipped back out and slid against my cheek. I held my breath—I couldn't do anything else—and I was captivated as it slid back over my lips.
That was Brady talking.
It was Brady who was touching me, but it took another second before I pulled myself out of my haze. I realized that Brady didn't even know what he was doing. I caught his hand and pulled back to give us some space.
Then everything was forgotten when his eyes met mine. My hand reached for his face again and cupped the side of his cheek. I was starting not to care…
He closed his eyes and moved into my touch, repeating, "I don't know what I'm going to do, Ray."
Nothing needed to happen here. Nothing needed to change…and then he dipped his head to the crook of my shoulder and something washed over me. I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes to hold him tight. I didn't want to let him go.
"I just want to stay here, like this." His voice was muffled against my neck.
I no longer knew where I ended and Brady began.
"Rayna," he breathed out. He clasped me tighter.
And then he kissed me. He kissed my neck and I groaned in surrender. That was all Brady needed. He tipped his head back, framed my face with his hands, and took one look. Whatever he saw, he groaned right before his lips were on mine. He commanded his entrance.