back.”
My mouth drops open at the same time Max says, “Holy shit.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I say as I watch the cop cuff Jackson’s hands behind his back.
“You can’t do this, you know,” Jackson says over his shoulder to Office King, who is busy reading him the Miranda rights. “Do you know who I am? You won’t be able to hold me long. I have money and lawyers.”
Officer King tightens the cuffs and Jackson winces. “I know exactly who you are. Ask me if I give two shits that you’re some dirt bike hot shot. We have pictures on file of what you did to Max over there. We’ve been looking for you. Seems you’ve been hiding from us over the last week. The guys down at the station will be happy to finally meet you, especially your new cellmates. They love meeting celebrities who hate homosexuals.”
“No. You can’t do this. Please,” Jackson begs as the cop leads him to the back of the cruiser and shoves him inside. I chuckle when the door slams in his face.
The cop straightens his clothes and readjusts the hat on his head before heading in our direction. “We’re going to take him in for violating the restraining order. Would either of you two gentlemen like to press charges against Mr. Cruze?” Both Max and Trip both shake their heads at the same time and Officer King sighs. “I figured you’d say that. Let me give you a word of advice. Even though he probably came here to start trouble with the two of you, he’s going to claim he didn’t know the two of you would be here and that you attacked him.”
“But officer that’s not what happened,” I chime in.
He looks at me. “I know that, but it’ll basically be their word against his. There’s nothing in the restraining order barring him from coming to Mountain Time specifically, and he is a well-known motocross figure, a judge is likely to side with him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say.
“I agree, but Jackson may want to go after Trip as well for financial gain. He probably knows you’re worth millions. You should really keep that in mind Mr. Douglas and press charges first.” Office Kings hands Trip back his license.
Trip? Millions? What? I’m so confused. People who manage bands don’t make that much, do they? And how would this cop know how much money he makes?
I stare up at Trip trying to figure out exactly what he’s hiding from me. Is he not who he says he is? Do I really even know him at all? I know he feels me looking at him, be he refuses to make eye contact with me. He swallows hard and works the muscle under his jaw. He knows I just caught on that he’s hiding something from me.
Trip stuffs his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I think I will press charges,” Max chimes in next to me, pulling me out of thought. “I don’t want to get in trouble for something
Trip rubs his forehead. “Maybe you’re right, Max, we should go file.”
Officer King nods. “I’ll meet you down at the station.”
Max steps away from me and towards his car. “You guys want to ride with me?”
“We’ll follow you,” Trip says, not giving me a chance to answer.
Max nods and heads for his car to follow the police cruiser into town. Trip shoves his hands into his pockets and heads off to his car without another word. It’s not like him to ignore me. Even when we didn’t exactly get along he never did that, and he’s being awfully quiet too.
My stomach sinks. Am I just a fling to him? Is that why he’s been keeping secrets from me? I wrap my arms around myself and follow Trip to the car. Finding out the truth about the man I’ve been slowly giving my heart to scares me. This could change everything.
Chapter 14
The Mustang hums as Trip drives us down the road. He still hasn’t said a word to me, and I’m not quite sure what I should say. I replay over and over in my mind the way the conversation will probably go the moment I confront him. He’ll either say that the cop doesn’t know what he’s talking about, even though he seemed to have a lot of information about Trip. Trip didn’t bother to correct him either, which makes me lean toward the cop telling the truth.
The other thing Trip might say is that it’s the truth and that everything he’s ever told me is a complete lie and he has no intention of ever getting really serious with me—that he wanted to keep me in the dark while he slept with me.
I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Either way I need to know. “Are you going to talk to me?”
Trip flexes his fingers around the steering wheel. “About what?”
“You know exactly what. Are you going to tell me what that cop meant and how he knows so much about you?”
He blows a rush of air through his nose. “Can we talk about this after we get the Jackson situation handled? Everyone is already on edge and I don’t want to add to it. After that, I promise I’ll explain everything to you.”
I stare at him for a long moment, deciding if I can wait that long to know. Not knowing what his secret is makes my mind conjure up a million different things.
He glances over. “Please?”
I sigh. It’s not ideal because I want to know now, but if I don’t like what I hear, I don’t see how I can make it through all the paperwork down at the police station. “Okay. Fine. But as soon as we’re done, we’re talking about this.”
He reaches over and takes my hand, raising it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “We will. It’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. I’ll be glad when everything is out in the open.”
Trip pulls into the parking lot of the redbrick building and cuts the engine. The cop we followed pulls around the back, probably to unload his prisoner. I hop out of the car and glance around until I spot Max heading towards me. The remnants of the last attack from Jackson still cover his face. The bruises have turned from black to yellow, and have nearly disappeared, but he’s got a newly busted lip thanks to Jackson. I’m ashamed all this happened to him, but one good thing came out of it. Max’s parents finally found out that he’s gay. His deepest secret that he never wanted them to know is finally out in the open and the reaction Max feared never came. Both of his parents fully accepted the fact that their son was gay, and said they had suspected so for a long time. Max has been the happiest I’ve ever seen him. That is, until just a little while ago when he was reminded that not all people are so open-minded.
Trip rushes over and wraps his arm around my shoulders and says to Max, “Let’s go end this.”
Fluorescent lights illuminate the light-green brick walls inside the building. The three of us make our way to the front desk—the same one we were at when Max last filed a report.
The same heavy-set cop with the mustache greets us at the front desk. “You three back again?”
“Yes, sir. We’re here to press charges against the guy that we got the restraining order for last week,” Trip informs him.
The officer types a few words into his computer. “Ah, yes. Mr. Cruze. I see they just brought him in. Go ahead and tell me what happened.”
I listen as both Max and Trip recount what took place leading up to the fight. I’m so proud of Max as I listen to him bravely tell the officer everything Jackson said to him. I’m glad he’s finally standing up for himself.
Trip on the other hand seems rather angry and annoyed talking about Jackson. I can tell pushing the issue of the fight isn’t something he really wants, but feels obligated to do.
“Let me get all this filed. Go ahead and have a seat.” He nods toward the row of plastic chairs against the wall.
“Wonder how long this is going to take,” Max says with mild annoyance in his voice. “I want to get this over with.”
Just as I attempt to comfort Max, I hear my name being called from across the room. “Holly. Hey, Holly!”
