Page 32 of Protecting Salvation

“What the fuck?”

Hurricane held her closer, his body sheltering hers as they watched police swarm her house. Detective McCain stepped out of the Ford and walked with a swagger toward her door but stopped and turned in their direction as if sensing blood in the water. Right now she knew it was her blood the sharks were getting hungry for. Her hand firmly gripped in Warren’s, they walked up the hill. Her heart was doing everything it could to beat its way out of her chest but he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s going to be okay, sugar.”

His words gave her the strength to hold her head high when all she really wanted was to run and hide some place where she could live in peace.

McCain, with his hands in his pockets, lifted his chin at the young Constable beside him who rushed toward her.

Warren moved to put his body in the way but she stopped him. “No, let me handle this.” Sensing his hesitance, she leant in close, her lips skimming his shoulder.

“Peyton Lawson, you’re under arrest for the murder of Martin Lawson.”

The rest of the man’s words were a blur as the chaos around her suddenly amplified. She was pulled away from Warren who was seconds away from throwing hands at the man cuffing her. McCain was grinning like he’d just won the jackpot and Bertie was barking and snapping at the officers now swarming her home.

Her shoulders twinged as she was yanked toward a police vehicle, a cry of pain falling from her lips. Warren stepped up and two officers moved to stop the man who looked like he was seconds away from going nuclear. In that moment she knew she had to protect him, to tame his instinct to protect her because in this instance he couldn’t, at least not with brute force. It was a fight that would end with him in a cell beside her.

“Hurricane, look at me.” His eyes found her and the name she never used on him made something click in his distraught eyes. “Get me a lawyer and look after Bertie for me.”

His single nod was all she needed for her shoulders to sink in relief. Peyton had no idea what the motivation behind the bullshit charge was, but if Martin was dead it was linked to what happened at her office, and the only people she trusted to find that truth was Shadow.

The car ride to the station was short as she was sent through booking and stripped of everything they deemed a threat to her life or others and catalogued her personal effects. Then she was shoved into a holding cell, with a toilet and a bench-like bed set up. A shiver worked through her as the scents of cleaning fluid and stale food assaulted her senses.

Peyton jumped as the door behind her slammed closed, turning to watch the small window on the steel door open and McCain appeared, a smirk of satisfaction on his ruddy, snide face.

“You just rest up there, little lady. I’ll be back in a bit and we can have a chat.”

The window cover closed and she was left utterly alone. Her body sunk to the bench, as fear crawled up her throat like slugs, choking her in panic. For a second she let it control her, let the situation overtake any sense she had, her breathing becoming rapid. Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes, her hands gripping the bench hard until the pain in her fingers pushed through the panic seizing her chest.

Forcing her eyes open she decided to use a technique that she used with her patients. As the cell was bland with no view and only blank walls, she couldn’t find anything in front of her to focus on, so she focused her mind on the people she cared about.

Five people who made her smile. Aoife and how amazing of a mum she’d be. Warren and how he made her feel alive and protected, his scent clean and fresh when he held her in his arms. Lotus and the way she fought for those she loved while trying to pretend she didn’t care.

Her breathing was already better as the panic gave way to calmer thoughts. Bram and how he’d be if his baby was a daughter, how much he wore his love for Aoife on his sleeve. Lastly, there was Jack, who’d brought her into this world of secrets and friendships and bonds that wouldn’t break under strain because they were built on so much more than the weak foundation of gossip. They were built on blood and pain and healing and it was that thought which finally calmed her.

Her life was spiralling out of her control but that was okay because she knew she had people who cared about her who’d grab the wheel and steer the ship when she couldn’t. Hours went by and food and water were delivered but Peyton wasn’t a fool, the tactics were clear. She was in enemy territory inside these walls.

Finally, her door clanged open and she was met with a face she least expected. A smile pulled across her lips. “Well, fancy seeing you here.”