“I know who you are. You’re one of the rich Downing fuckers. Going to be nice to lock you up. And boy…resisting arrest?”

I ignored the cop leaning in through the door, staring straight ahead even though the flashing red and blue lights were giving me a fucking headache.

Actually, I’d given myself the headache when I slammed my forehead into the other officer’s face, smashing his nose. I’d played dumb right until the last second, then reacted. I should have held off and timed it until I got this bastard, though. This one actually deserved it.

“Hey, wait a second…you’re the youngest one, aren’t you?”

Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my shoulders from tightening. That tone in his voice was one I knew too well. I still didn’t respond, just kept staring straight ahead.

“You are him. Damn shame about that wife of yours. She was a fine-looking piece of ass.” Slowly, I turned my head and stared at him. A smug grin curled his lips. “Of course, married to a piece of shit like you, and coming from a family like that, it was just a matter of time, wasn’t it?”

Calculating the distance between us, I tried to decide if my head was steady enough for me to do him any damage. I’d had nearly a fifth of whiskey earlier, and contrary to what these assholes were saying, I hadn’t been driving drunk. I’d been drinking and driving, yes, but I’d pulled over before I’d gotten drunk and decided I’d rather drink than drive and had tossed my keys into the back seat just to remove temptation.

“Whalen!”

The officer in front of me didn’t move.

I continued to stare at him, already seeing his face a mask of blood. In a cool, methodical manner, I lowered my gaze to his badge and took note of the number, then looked back into his eyes. “Whalen. Officer Whalen. I think your partner wants you.”

It was mildly satisfying to see the lines around his eyes deepen and even more amusing to see him swallow back whatever comment he was about to make as his partner shouted his name again, louder this time.

“Better hurry. He’s yanking your chain, Whalen.”

Whalen’s lip curled, and he jerked back, slamming the door.

I sank back into the seat and closed my eyes, the throbbing in my head enough that I thought I might be sick.

It might have been maybe ten minutes before the driver side door opened and the first cop ducked inside, practically folding in half just to fit his massive frame behind the wheel. He glanced back at me, and I caught sight of his swollen lip. “Lucky for you, Mr. Downing, I found your keys in the back seat, right where you said they were.”

He looked away, and I watched as his eyes tracked movement around the car. I realized what he was looking at after only a few seconds. “Your partner’s an asshole,” I told him. “I should have busted his face instead of yours. Sorry.”

Something that might have been surprise flickered in his eyes before he looked away. The passenger door opened a few seconds later, and I lapsed into silence, turning my head to stare out the window.

The entire drive there, Whalen threw verbal jabs, mentioning Isabel more than once. I all but bit my tongue through, but somehow, I managed to stay quiet. The only reason was because I knew he was doing it just because he wanted to see me lose my temper.

I was ornery enough not to give him the pleasure.

“You cooled off now, son?”

I glared at the cop bending over the open back door of the squad car. My head was still spinning more than I wanted to admit. The cop I’d busted in the mouth seemed to waver in front of me. For a couple of seconds, there had been three of him. I finally focused on the one in the middle, because…logic.

His eyes were steady on my face as he studied me, his dark face showing no sign of anger or irritation. I could have been staring at a mask for all the emotion he showed.

I didn’t say anything. So he waited.

Finally, I gave a stiff, short nod.

He responded with a polite one of his own. “Good. Then this will be a lot easier on all of us.”

“Ain’t going to be that easy on him,” Whalen said from behind his partner. “We’re looking at resisting arrest here, Riggs. Busted you right in the mouth, didn’t he?”

A muscle pulsed in the cop’s cheek, his complexion growing even darker. I got the impression he didn’t like his partner, but Riggs didn’t say anything, just reached in and helped me slide out of the car, one hand on my head so I didn’t hit it.

I minded my manners, even though the last fucking thing I wanted to do was walk into that big, brightly lit building. I had no doubt the second I did, somebody who knew me would make a call, then another person would make a call. Sooner or later, Declan, Brooks, or Dad would hear.

And it was my own fucking fault.

The whole damn mess was my fault, and it would be an even bigger mess because I’d attacked Riggs, pretending to be out of it as he pulled me from the car, striking out with my forehead at the last possible second and headbutting him. He got a busted lip, and for my trouble, I had road rash on my face, sore shoulders, and the pleasant feeling of knowing what it was like to be tased.

It hurt like a son of a bitch.

“You’re behaving awful good there, boy,” Whalen said, his jeering tone setting off every last nerve inside my adrenaline-fueled body.

I ignored him and kept on walking.

“Tell me something…that wife of yours. Read she was a dancer. She had some ass on her…bet she could wrap those legs around you and—”

I tensed, my temper snapping. But Riggs jerked me back and spun me off to the side, putting himself between me and the other cop. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?” he demanded, his voice so low I could hardly hear him.

“Man, don’t you know who he is?”

“I don’t care. You’re supposed to be a professional. Act like one.” Once more, we started back up to the station, Riggs keeping me on his left side this time instead of between me and his partner.

Breathe, I told myself. All I had to do was breathe and ignore that shithead for a few more minutes.

But that processing shit took a lot longer than I thought, and while Riggs was turning over paperwork and answering questions, Whalen came up behind me and started all over again.

“Bet she was a hot little bitch, wasn’t she?” he whispered. “Her daddy give her to you so the Castellanos and the Downings could have some sort of partnership?”

I stared hard at Riggs’s back, telling myself it wasn’t worth it to snap and lose my temper over this shit-sniveling weasel. It wasn’t worth it.

“Me, I’d just love to have some fucker give me a piece of ass like that. I’d have her on her knees—”

I didn’t even remember moving. I drove my head back, hard. Cartilage crunched.

Whalen yowled.

Curses filled the air, but I ignored them, turning around and driving my foot into Whalen’s knee. I only managed a glancing blow before somebody took me down. Still, just before I hit the floor—hard—I heard his high-pitched, pained yelp.

It was the sweetest sound I’d heard in a long, long time.

“Damn it, Whalen, you stupid fuck. Didn’t I tell you to back off?” I heard Riggs shouting.

Somebody else was yelling too, but I couldn’t concentrate on who it was, or what they might be saying. The bright lights overhead were going dimmer.

Then it wasn’t just dim. It was dark.

And quiet.

It suited me just fine.

It was late Saturday night when I was arrested—well, technically, early Sunday morning.

Nobody from my family showed up to see me.

No lawyer showed up.

I hadn’t used my phone call, so that might explain the radio silence, but I was still surprised when, come Monday morning, a public defender presented herself to me.

She looked maybe sixteen years old, wearing an off-the-rack suit in a color that didn’t do anything for her, although nothing could hide the fact that she was cute. She’d probably be eaten alive in a couple of years, if something didn’t knock the shine off her soon.

She offered her hand after the guard took my cuffs off and introduced herself. “Kacie Jenkins,” she said. Then she spelled her name out.

“Okay. I’m Sean.” Feeling like a smart-ass, I spelled mine out too.

“You’re funny.” She grinned at me and gestured for me to sit down.

I’d no sooner done so than somebody knocked sharply on the door and shoved it open. I closed my eyes and stifled a groan as I saw the intruders. One was a lawyer friend of my father’s—Felix Malone.

Brooks was the other.

His face was set in a cool, unreadable mask, even his eyes.

Slumping in the seat, I focused on the girl in front of me. She was already rising to meet Felix. “Mr. Malone.”

Malone was well known in the area.

“Hello…Ms. Jenkins, is it? I’m sorry to intrude, but I was late getting here. Mr. Downing won’t be needing the services of a public defender. His family has retained my firm to represent him.” He held out a card.

“Is that so?” Kacie looked at the card, at Malone, then at me.

“What if I want to stick with you, Kacie, spelled K-A-C-I-E?” I somehow managed to sum up a flirtatious smile.

It didn’t work on her.

She tapped the card against the palm of her opposite hand. “If I was being honest and looking out for the best interest of my client,” she said after a few seconds of consideration. “Then I’d tell you that you should be smart and accept the help your family is giving you, Mr. Downing. I like to think I’m good at my job. Granted, I’ve only been with the public defender’s office for a year, but I’m doing fairly well. However, I can’t offer the resources Mr. Malone can.”

I squinted at her. “Well, I—”

She picked up her bag. “Take your family’s offer, Sean.”

The door closed behind her without anybody else saying a word.

Malone cleared his throat and moved to take her vacated seat. “Shall we begin?”

I flicked a look at Brooks.

He’d taken up position by the door and was staring at his phone, not giving me any attention at all.

Hell.

Three hours later, I walked outside with Felix Malone and my brother.

Brooks still hadn’t said a thing to me.

I gave Malone a sour look. “Grief counseling?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Judge Hamilton obviously feels the loss you’ve suffered has affected your…judgment, Sean. And, of course, Officer Riggs’s statement about his partner’s behavior weighed heavily in your favor.” He took great care not to look at me as he spoke, tugging at the sleeves of his overcoat, checking his watch, smoothing his collar. Anything but looking at me. “All in all, she showed a great deal of compassion. Forty hours of community service, grief counseling, and a fine after being found intoxicated—”

“I wasn’t—” I realized I was shouting, then stopped, lowering my voice. “I wasn’t driving. The keys were in the back seat!”

“One more thing that weighed in your favor. It was fortunate that Officer Riggs was available to come in and speak. Otherwise, we’d likely be looking at a very different set of circumstances.”

“I’m still not off the hook,” I growled.

“If you hadn’t busted that cop in the mouth,” Brooks snapped. “We probably could have made this whole thing disappear. And you didn’t attack just one cop, but two! And you busted up the second one right in the middle of the police station!”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. After a few seconds, I tried again. “He was talking about Isabel. I lost it.”

Brooks looked like he wanted to argue, then stopped, just shaking his head.

“Judge Hamilton sympathized, Sean. That’s why you got off so easily,” Malone said softly.

I scowled, and muttered, “Just what I need…sympathy.”

Damn, I hated that word.

“We spoke, Officer Riggs, Hamilton, and I.” He glanced at me. “Sympathy for your loss and some irritation toward Officer Whalen all factored into this. But, Sean…you can’t screw up like this again. I can’t guarantee it will go so easily in your favor next time, family connections or not.”