Page 80 of All Bets Are Off

Connor tilts his head to one side, studying Addy carefully, and I can’t get a read on her right now, either. “As much as I would have loved to hit him back, Addy, it would not have been worth the call of shame to my First Sergeant to tell him I’d been arrested. Did you want me to hit him back?”

“No,” Addy says, and she tilts her chin up fiercely, her blue eyes narrowing, as she growls, “I wanted you to keep your mouth shut like I begged you to. Look what you’ve done, Connor! This is all your fault.”

“Hey, hey,” I say, squeezing in between them and pushing them apart. Tensions are high, and we don’t need a second fight erupting, so the mediating is left to me. “I don’t think that’s fair, Addy. This is Liam’s fault.”

“Yeah, your fiancé seems like a douchebag,” Jameson mumbles, and Addy glares at him with intense, penetrating eyes. She is a force to be reckoned with right now. “Sorry.”

“Look,” I say, frantically holding out my phone to the group as I search for the Clark County Detention Center on my maps, “the jail isn’t far. There’s a Starbucks next door. Let’s just Uber over there, get some coffees to sober up, and wait for their bail amounts to be listed. Okay? Okay?”

“Yes, let’s do that,” John agrees.

I’m not usually one to have all the answers in a crisis, but Theo is in jail—and we need to get him out of there.

33

Evelyn

“I hate you so much right now,” I spit, throwing Liam a scathing, venomous look across the narrow corridor separating my freezing cold holding cell from the guys’. “I stabbed my high heel into your leg, and apparently that’s assault?”

“Evie, that is the definition of assault,” Theo says wearily. He slumps back against the wall and stares up at the bright fluorescent lights above him.

There are multiple possible suspects for the stench of stale sweat in this building—like the woman who is high on drugs and muttering to herself under her breath, or the old guy who is so obliterated by booze that he’s passed out on the floor and snoring. I don’t even want to touch anything. I sit on the very, very edge of the bench, my hands in my lap, my shoulders drawn in tightly. This is the most shameful moment of my life.

When we arrived at the Clark County Detention Center, the four of us were separated and booked. I was searched again, my belongings suspended and bagged. They took a damn mugshot of me! I tried to smile so it at least looked cute, but I was barked at by the jail officer, and now I’m terrified the most God-awful portrait of me to ever exist is going to be plastered all over the internet. They took all of my details and my fingerprints, then abandoned us all in these holding cells.

It has been hours, and I have no idea what happens next, or how long we’ll be in here for.

“Do you think we’re going to have to spend the night in here?” I gasp with horror, glancing around at my terrifying cell mates. The only saving grace is that the women’s holding cell is a lot less crowded than the men’s.

“Not if we’re bailed out,” Tyler grumbles. He’s sitting next to Theo, because the two of them refuse to be anywhere near Liam right now, who sits on the bench opposite them all by himself.

“The bail won’t be that expensive for some misdemeanors,” Liam says, staring at the cold, cement ground beneath his feet. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows and there’s some stitches in his face from the medical treatment he received upon our arrival. “Addy will get us out.”

“You don’t deserve to get out,” Theo snaps across the cell, and I watch his body tense, rigid with anger. “You’re a dick, Liam. A big fucking dick. And if Addy even dares stay in this relationship with you . . . You’d best believe I am barrel-rolling down the aisle at your wedding and screaming my objections. You’re done. I don’t care what Addy wants. You are not staying in her life.”

“I’m sorry!” Liam splutters in exasperation, lifting his gaze from the ground. “I fucked up! It only happened a few times—”

“A few times,” I repeat mockingly, scoffing at him in disdain, my arms hanging lazily through the cell bars. “Like that makes it okay! You hit her!”

“I know I did,” he says, and he groans, almost whimpers. He presses his balled-up fists into the sockets of his eyes, his mouth screwed into a remorseful grimace. “I love Adelaide so fucking much. I’m not a bad guy—”

“Debatable,” Theo says.

Liam sniffs back a cry, and I stare at him with a blank expression, because I am not falling for those crocodile tears of his. Theo and Tyler aren’t having any of it, either. We simply ignore Liam, let him deal with the guilt all on his own.

A jail officer clangs a set of keys against the metal bars of my holding cell, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Evelyn Sinclair, Theodore Sinclair, Tyler Sánchez—let’s go,” he orders as he unlocks the door and swings it open. “You’re being released.”

“Wait,” Liam says, standing from the bench. Pathetically, he asks, “What about me?”

The officer is tired, disinterested, as he turns to unlock the door of the men’s holding cell. “Is your name Evelyn, Theodore or Tyler? No? Then no bail for you yet.”

“Aw. Sucks to be you,” I snicker as I wave Liam goodbye with a flutter of my hand.

“Yeah, enjoy sleeping on that bench,” Theo chimes in.

Liam watches the three of us leave with cold, hard shock written all over his face. As the cell door slides shut again, sealing his fate, I feel a smug sense of satisfaction, but also pride for Addy—she didn’t bail him out.

The officer escorts the three of us back to the same area where we were booked, and we’re each given our belongings back in plastic bags. We sign a stack of paperwork, outlining our charges and notifying us of our future court date, and I feel so disgruntled that I have to fly back out here to Vegas to appear in court all because I kicked Liam fucking Hartman in the shin. So not worth it.