Jagged: A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Read Online Free Page B
Author: Winter Scott
The only exit was the window and we were twelve floors up. Nowhere to go.
“Mr. King! Put your hands up where we can see them.”
I raised my hands to the air. “What the fuck is this about?”
“You're under arrest for the attempted murder of Marquis Jones.” One of the officers with a bushy brown mustache pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Taylor tried to intervene. “Carter didn't do anything wrong! This is a mistake. I'll have my father over here in minutes and both of you will lose your jobs.”
Her threats didn't nothing to sway them. But I loved her passion. The officer listed off my Miranda rights as the other patted me down.
“Well would you look at that. We have the murder weapon.” The officer pulled my pistol out of my waistband and handed it to his buddy. He cuffed my hands behind my back and wasn't gentle about it.
Taylor kissed me before the pigs took me away. “Don't worry, Carter. My father will hire you the best lawyer. You'll be out by tomorrow.”
That was the last time I saw her.
I was brought to an interrogation chamber where they kept me for hours without any food or water. My handcuffed wrists were chained in front of me to the table. A single light hung above giving off a small amount of light in the otherwise dark room. Nobody even came in to ask me questions.
Until Sheriff Buckley showed his ugly mug. “Well what do we have here...Carter King.”
His breath stunk of donuts and coffee as he sat his over-sized figure into the small steel chair across from me. He placed a stack of brown files onto the table. “You have quite the record, Mr. King. Assault, robbery, and too many others to list. Your motorcycle club might've gotten you out of your other charges but not this one.”
Buckley slid a file in front of me and opened it up to pictures of a black guy I'd never seen before. He was bloody and bullet-ridden, laying on the pavement. The leather cut he was wearing told me the dead guy was from the 809 MC.
“The problem is, Carter...you didn't finish the job. The man is alive and well at Saint Marks Memorial.”
“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I've never seen this guy in my life.”
“Where were you today, Carter?”
“Main street of Saint Marks. I met with a dozen business owners that can verify my alibi.” There was no way the cops were going to pin this on me.
Buckley laughed, choking on his own spit. “Don't make me have a heart attack, Carter. Your alibi is exactly where the attempted murder took place.”
Fuck. Something was fishy about all this. Taylor's lawyer should've been here by now. I'd have to call the MC and get them to send me somebody else.
“I want my one phone call.”
Buckley ignored me. “We also pulled the weapon off you that fired the bullets that hit Mr. Jones.”
“Fuck you. My gun was never fired.”
“Not according to the report.” Buckley opened another file but I didn't even glance at it. I already knew what it said.
This was all moving too fast. No fucking way the cops figured all this out in a few hours. Somebody was framing me and doing a damn good job.
“No jury would convict me with all this bullshit evidence. Any lawyer could rip this case apart.”
Buckley smiled and swiped all the files off the table. Papers and pictures flew to the ground in a mess. “We don't even need any of this. You're going to confess and wrap up this case in a nice little bow.”
“Never going to happen, Sheriff.”
Buckley pulled out a file from behind his back and opened it for me. A photo of Taylor was laying amongst other papers. “If you don't cooperate with us, we'll have to take Ms. Kyle in for selling cocaine out of her dorm room.”
“Nobody will ever believe that. Taylor's father will sue you guys so fast your heads will be decorated on pikes outside the police station by the morning.”
Buckley
“Mr. King! Put your hands up where we can see them.”
I raised my hands to the air. “What the fuck is this about?”
“You're under arrest for the attempted murder of Marquis Jones.” One of the officers with a bushy brown mustache pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
Taylor tried to intervene. “Carter didn't do anything wrong! This is a mistake. I'll have my father over here in minutes and both of you will lose your jobs.”
Her threats didn't nothing to sway them. But I loved her passion. The officer listed off my Miranda rights as the other patted me down.
“Well would you look at that. We have the murder weapon.” The officer pulled my pistol out of my waistband and handed it to his buddy. He cuffed my hands behind my back and wasn't gentle about it.
Taylor kissed me before the pigs took me away. “Don't worry, Carter. My father will hire you the best lawyer. You'll be out by tomorrow.”
That was the last time I saw her.
I was brought to an interrogation chamber where they kept me for hours without any food or water. My handcuffed wrists were chained in front of me to the table. A single light hung above giving off a small amount of light in the otherwise dark room. Nobody even came in to ask me questions.
Until Sheriff Buckley showed his ugly mug. “Well what do we have here...Carter King.”
His breath stunk of donuts and coffee as he sat his over-sized figure into the small steel chair across from me. He placed a stack of brown files onto the table. “You have quite the record, Mr. King. Assault, robbery, and too many others to list. Your motorcycle club might've gotten you out of your other charges but not this one.”
Buckley slid a file in front of me and opened it up to pictures of a black guy I'd never seen before. He was bloody and bullet-ridden, laying on the pavement. The leather cut he was wearing told me the dead guy was from the 809 MC.
“The problem is, Carter...you didn't finish the job. The man is alive and well at Saint Marks Memorial.”
“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I've never seen this guy in my life.”
“Where were you today, Carter?”
“Main street of Saint Marks. I met with a dozen business owners that can verify my alibi.” There was no way the cops were going to pin this on me.
Buckley laughed, choking on his own spit. “Don't make me have a heart attack, Carter. Your alibi is exactly where the attempted murder took place.”
Fuck. Something was fishy about all this. Taylor's lawyer should've been here by now. I'd have to call the MC and get them to send me somebody else.
“I want my one phone call.”
Buckley ignored me. “We also pulled the weapon off you that fired the bullets that hit Mr. Jones.”
“Fuck you. My gun was never fired.”
“Not according to the report.” Buckley opened another file but I didn't even glance at it. I already knew what it said.
This was all moving too fast. No fucking way the cops figured all this out in a few hours. Somebody was framing me and doing a damn good job.
“No jury would convict me with all this bullshit evidence. Any lawyer could rip this case apart.”
Buckley smiled and swiped all the files off the table. Papers and pictures flew to the ground in a mess. “We don't even need any of this. You're going to confess and wrap up this case in a nice little bow.”
“Never going to happen, Sheriff.”
Buckley pulled out a file from behind his back and opened it for me. A photo of Taylor was laying amongst other papers. “If you don't cooperate with us, we'll have to take Ms. Kyle in for selling cocaine out of her dorm room.”
“Nobody will ever believe that. Taylor's father will sue you guys so fast your heads will be decorated on pikes outside the police station by the morning.”
Buckley
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