my rearview mirror.
“Shit.” I mutter. “For real?”
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Her eyes go wide and panicked.
“Patterson.” I swerve to the side of the road and slam my palms on the steering wheel.
She flinches. “I don’t understand.”
“Me either,” I say, reaching across her for my registration in the glove compartment. “I didn’t even do anything.”
“What should I do? Should I hide?”
I can’t help but laugh as I close the compartment. “Why would you hide? We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Patterson knocks on my window with the end of his flashlight and I sigh, turning to Alaina. “Just, you know, don’t make any sudden movements.”
She nods as I put the window down.
“Well, well, well.” That’s all this asshole knows how to say, I guess. He leans down to see into the car. “And who’s this?” He smiles insincerely at Alaina.
I ignore his question. “I didn’t do anything, man. You can’t pull me over for no reason.”
Patterson straightens. “Oh, I got a reason; suspicious activity.”
Groaning, I let my head fall back against the headrest. “Come on. When’s this shit gonna stop? This is harassment.”
He laughs. “I’m going to need you to step out of the car.”
“Dammit,” I growl, unbuckling my seatbelt. I turn to Alaina as I open the door. She’s trembling. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s fine.” I smile, hoping to reassure her, and climb out of the car.
I’d knock this douche bag out for scaring her like this if he wasn’t a cop.
As soon as I’m out of the car, Patterson slips his flashlight into his belt and walks me to the back, shoving me against the trunk. “Spread your feet,” he says, kicking the space between my shoes. “Hands behind your back.”
Rolling my eyes, I do as he says. Resisting will just draw this out. “You need a hobby,” I say as he slaps cuffs on my wrists. “Take up tennis or something. You seem like a tennis guy.”
Patterson yanks me backward by the cuffs, walking me to the curb. “Have a seat while I talk to your girlfriend.”
I shake my head as I sit on the curb. “What the hell is wrong with you? Just riding around, stalking people so you can harass them and feel like you did some shit? It’s sad. You’re a grown man, picking on a seventeen-year-old kid.”
“I’m so sick of you,” he sneers. “Cruising around in your fancy Lexus, thinking you’re hot shit because your daddy’s an attorney, disrespecting people, running your mouth. If you were my son, I’d bust you in the teeth.”
“Lucky for me, you’re not my dad. And lucky for you, you have daughters. I’m pretty sure busting kids in the teeth is abuse, cop or not.”
He leans down so we’re nose to nose. I do my best not to react to his sour coffee breath. “Do not talk about my daughters.”
“No problem.” The last thing I want to talk about is his daughters. Specifically Brittany.
He straightens and heads for the passenger door, whipping it open. He pulls his flashlight from his belt, shining it into Alaina’s eyes. “What’s in your hand?” he demands.
Shaking, she holds her fist out to him. He backs away, resting his free hand on the butt of his gun.
“M&M’s!” I shout. “She’s got a bunch of candy. That’s it. Can we go? My ice is melting.”
Ignoring me, he steps up to the car again. “Get out.”
Alaina freezes, staring up at him.
“Let’s go,” he says, gesturing with his flashlight.
She says something that I can’t make out.
He leans down, scowling directly into her face. “You can’t ?”
“Leave her alone,” I call. “Just write me a ticket for whatever and let us go home.”
“Let me help you,” Patterson says, grabbing Alaina’s arm. “Take off your seatbelt and get out. Now.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. If I wasn’t handcuffed I’d be tempted to do something to help her. Patterson would probably consider it assault or something, though.
As soon as her seatbelt is off, he