Imogen
The cop banged his coffee cup against the table and I jerked.
I’d never been scared of the police before, but seeing the lights on the police car as it parked in front of the bar made my stomach fall. The lights weren’t even on, and my stomach was full of eggs. But something wasn’t right. I pushed off the fear by blaming Cyrus’s worries for making me nervous. Police were our friends.
Still, Cyrus and I tracked the uniformed officer as he walked in the restaurant, and I couldn’t shake the feeling my doom walked through the door with him.
I should have paid attention to my gut.
After an hour in their interrogation room, I learned the police were not the saviors I’d expected.
"Are you sure you and Mr. Kensington didn’t decide to add excitement to your relationship by stealing a car and going on a joyride after a night of drinking and drugs?" the officer asked as he leaned across the metal table separating us.