Page 36 of Keeping Denver

Taking my wrists in his hands, the cop slaps the handcuffs on me while reading me my rights. As the police lead me down the hall, I'm in hysterics as I look back. "Callan, please!" I shout, terrified, and hurt. The whole time they escort me from the building, I expect Callan to fight for me, but that moment never happens. As I'm placed in the back of the police cruiser, I realize the man I am in love with, and the man I thought cared about me, doesn't believe in me. It feels as if the entire universe has caved in, crushing my soul in the process.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm being fingerprinted, and my picture taken. "You have anyone you want to call?" the officer asks.

Wrapping my arms around my body, I shake my head. "I don't have anybody."

Next, I'm led into a room with a table and two chairs where the police officer proceeds to question me for over an hour. He asks me the same questions over and over as if my answers will suddenly change. Only they don't. I didn't take the wallet or the necklace, and I have no clue as to how they ended up in my purse. None of it matters. It doesn't matter what I say. The evidence is damning. Hell, even I can admit I look guilty.

After questioning, the officer shows me to my cell, then sighs. "Alright. You'll have to hang tight here until a judge can see you. That won't be until sometime tomorrow or the next day. Are you sure you don't have someone you'd like to call?"

Sitting on the concrete bench, I look around, and take in my sleeping arrangements for the night. "Like I told you before, officer. I don't have anyone." A cold draft causes me to shiver, as he closes the heavy steel door.

I honestly have no one.

* * *

The next morning, I'm startled by the opening of the cell door. "Let's go, Hollis. You made bail, and your attorney is waiting for you in the lobby."

I sit up. "My attorney?" My first thought is of Callan as I rub the ache from my eyes.

"Your attorney, Mr. Knight. Now let's go."

What is Spencer doing here? I follow the officer down the hall, to the front of the police station, where I'm met by Callan's best friend Spencer, who's face morphs into a murderous expression when he gets a glimpse at my current state. I'm in yesterday's clothes which doesn't bother me, but I'm sure my red puffy face, mascara that is probably smudged all over the place and my messy hair situation don't make me look any better.

"Ma'am." A woman sitting behind the counter, with plexiglass separating us stops me. "I have your belongings." She pulls my purse out of a bag marked evidence.

I take the bag from her; the one Callan gave to me as a gift and reach inside for my wallet. Opening it, I take what cash I have, my phone, and my ID, then stuff both into my pocket. Once I have what I need, I look back at the woman. "Do you have a trash can back there?"

"She lifts a brow. "Yes."

I slide the purse across the counter. "Will you toss this in there? I don't need it."

"Are you sure? That bag is worth thousands." She appears shocked.

"It's not worth a damn thing to me," I tell her, walking away. Avoiding eye contact with Spencer, I head toward the exit door. "What are you doing here, Spencer?" Grabbing my arm, he stops me. Turning my body to face his, Spencer places his finger under my chin, lifting it. "I came to do what my asshole best friend should have, and that is to get you out of here."

My lip wobbles. "You don't believe I did it?"

"Fuck no. And neither does Frances. She's the one who called me yesterday. I was out of town and didn't get back until late. I'm so fucking sorry I didn't get here sooner, Denver."

"Frances believes me too?" My voice rises slightly, causing a couple of people in the lobby to stare.

"Hell, yeah. We know you didn't take shit."

"What happens now?" I divert my eyes.

"You let me do my job."

I nod. "Thanks for getting me out of here. I promise to pay you back somehow."

"Fuck that. You're not paying me back, Denver."

Licking my dry lips, I look around as I try to think about my next move. There is no way I can go to Callan's. He hates me and thinks I'm a criminal. I have some cash I've been saving since living with Callan, but not much. It suddenly dawns on me; not only do I not have a place to live, but I am also out of a job. I'm back to where I was weeks ago. At this point, I'm too exhausted to think. What I need is a shower and some time to wrap my head around what's happened. "Do you think you can give me a ride to a hotel? Someplace cheap?" I ask Spencer.

His lips thin. "I have been given strict instructions to take you elsewhere."

"Where are you supposed to take me?"

"Come on. You'll see." Too tired to argue, I follow Spencer. The fact he showed to bail me out, and knowing he believes my innocence makes my decision to trust him much easier.