Jagger: A Caldwell Brothers Novel by Mj Fields & Chelsea Camaron

Author:Mj Fields & Chelsea Camaron [Fields, Mj & Camaron, Chelsea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Loveswept
Published: 2016-04-11T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Jagger

“You listen here, Law,” I sneer as I push past him. “You okay, Totty?” I ask, knowing she’s not.

She dives into my arms, crying, and I keep her pulled securely to me.

“You know damn well she and I had nothing to do with this, and you have no fucking warrant, so is this fucking necessary? Do you get off on victimizing the victim of that monster?” I practically scream.

Her body trembles against mine, and I hold her more tightly.

“You are walking a fine line, Caldwell,” he snaps. “I am investigating a murder here. Blunt force trauma to the back of his head caused the fall that broke his neck and killed him.”

She covers her ears with her hands, not wanting to hear it.

“And she didn’t do shit! You know it”—I point to him, wanting to do more than point—“and I know it. She’s standing here—came here willingly—and you just keep driving the bullshit—”

“You could be arrested—”

I shake my head. “For what? Come on, little one.” I start walking toward the door, still holding her tightly.

“Aiding and abetting,” he says in a low tone. “I know you had her.”

“Cut the fucking scare tactics, Law Man. There would have to be a crime.”

“She was seventeen,” he hisses.

“I can assure you, she turned eighteen at midnight, and not a damn thing happened between her and me.”

“He won’t even touch me,” she says, the sadness in her eyes nearly crushing me.

“Totty, it’s not like that. We’ve gotta get you strong, get you standing on your own two feet.”

“But—”

I shake my head, stopping her. It’s none of Johnny’s damn business.

I look at him. “Anything else?”

“Do you know anyone who would want your father dead?” he asks her.

She shrugs. “Honestly, no. I never left the apartment building with him except for when he made me come here and press charges, and I only left twice without him.”

He nods, seeming to accept her answer. “Don’t go too far.”

“She’ll be with me.”

“I’m sure she will. I hope to hell you’re serious about helping her get strong on her own.”

“Serious as fucking cancer,” I say as I walk out, holding her hand.

I glance over at her often, still holding fucking hands, and it isn’t long before she looks to be less shaken up.

“You all right?” I ask, hoping her response is yes.

She nods. “As long as you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Totty.” I open the car door and she slides in. Then I walk around and climb in the other side. My phone chimes, and I see it’s from Law Man.

“Rand is being cremated. No service.” I read his message aloud. I look over. “You wanna see him first?”

She shakes her head.

I start up the car, and she places her hand on my thigh, leans back, and closes her eyes. One tear escapes, and I forget all about how fucked up it is that she feels like she can touch me whenever she wants. Don’t get me wrong, I like it—I like it a lot—but what if she thinks this kind of good touch is all right with anyone? I feel my blood boil.

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