God help me and my brother.
My sister smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Lord Have Mercy
Book 2 in The Southern Gentleman Series
4-23-19
Chapter 1
It’s not every day you get to tell someone ‘go fuck yourself’ and get arrested for it.
-Camryn’s secret thoughts
Camryn
I grinned at the new teacher. His name was Carver Brown, and he was everything that a woman looked for when she was choosing a life mate.
He was sexy, had a very high IQ, and didn’t call me annoying.
No, who did call me annoying was the school resource officer, Flint Cafferty.
Flint was the total opposite of Carver.
Carver was on the shorter side of six feet, had long limbs and was leanly muscular, and he was a blond with soft, creamy white skin. He even had freckles.
I loved his freckles.
I had freckles. What’s not to love about freckles?
Flint?
Yeah, Flint didn’t have freckles.
In fact, Flint was so beautiful it took my breath away…until he opened his mouth.
Flint was tall—way taller than Carver. He towered over Carver’s mere six feet in height. I had to only assume that he was at least five to six inches greater in height.
And oh, the muscles. Flint wasn’t whip-cord lean like Carver. He was big, muscular, and looked like sometimes he’d like to squeeze my head in between those big ass hands until I grew some sense.
But I did have sense, dammit!
I was just a befuddled mess around the man.
I mean, it wasn’t every day that a person hated you just on general principle!
But, for some reason, Flint did.
He hated me, and I hadn’t a clue as to why.
“Seriously, woman. Just move the damn car!” Flint growled.
I would have.
Really, I would have.
But his goddamn K-9 partner, who hated my guts, growled at me.
I froze in the process of taking another step in the direction of my vehicle.
So I might, or might not have, rear-ended Officer Meaniehead when I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should be.
I hadn’t meant to, honest.
But, like always when I came into contact with Flint Cafferty, aka only call me Officer Cafferty, Ms. Sims, I lost my damn mind when he was around.
I had no explanation as to why, either.
It’s just like something in my brain stopped working properly when my body and mind realized he was close.
Like kind of what happened just a few minutes ago.
I’d been driving along, minding my own business, ready to get back to work after an extremely short summer vacation, and had been driving the speed limit for once.
Then, the light had turned red, and I’d automatically assumed that the dumbass—Flint, though I didn’t know it was him at the time—would go through the light since he was already practically in the intersection.
Except, he’d stopped.
And I hadn’t.
At least not until my front bumper made contact with his back bumper—in his police cruiser of all things.
To make matters worse, Carver had been directly behind me and had seen the entire thing.
Which led us to now.
I was told to move my car to the side of the road because we were blocking traffic, but each time I went to move, the K-9 officer from hell named Dooley would growl at me and make fear rip at my heart.
See, there weren’t many things that I was afraid of.
Dying while a large piece of plate glass falls on me from eighteen stories up, logs rolling off a log truck, being accidentally hung, and an airplane crash—all thanks to watching Final Destination at an impressionable age—and by a dog attack were all on my top five list.
Why was I worried about a dog attack?
Because when I’d been fifteen, an officer had brought a K-9 officer into my house on a search warrant that’d been issued on the wrong house, and when I’d tried to run like any rational human being that’d had someone slam into their house while they were minding their own business enjoying their evening. I panicked and the K-9 police dog had tried to apprehend my fleeing form.
I had a once-broken and a fear of dogs in general to show for it.
Flint sighed and put his dog back into the cruiser that he’d already moved to the side of the road, and I chose to dive into my car before he changed his mind.
After moving my vehicle over, I remained inside for a few long seconds as I tried to calm my erratic heartrate.
God, I wasn’t sure if it was Flint’s nearness, or his dog’s.
Either way, I wasn’t sure that I could get out of the car again.
My legs weren’t working properly.
“Let’s go, Ms. Sims,” Flint drawled from outside my window.
I opened my eyes and saw him standing there glaring at me through the cracked window, and wondered how in the hell I was supposed to function with that much hate aimed toward me.
***
Flint
I crossed my arms and gave the woman my most patient look, and saw her shiver.
After a few more long seconds, she exited the car once again and stared at me like I was about to hit her at any second.
Then again, she always did that and I wasn’t sure what the hell I’d ever done to deserve that behavior.
Honestly, being around her was a test for my patience.
She acted like I was going to throw her down on the ground and rape her if I got within five feet of her, and I wasn’t sure what in the hell to do to make her feel more comfortable around me.
It wasn’t like I really wanted to be as big and intimidating as I was.
I was just built strong and sturdy.
I was six foot five to her five foot one.
Honestly, if I thought hard enough, I could probably knock her backwards with a well-placed burp.
She was cute.
As long as she wasn’t staring at me with fear in her eyes like she was doing right then.
Long, strawberry-blonde hair, wide blue eyes, and soft skin that had the most adorable freckles on it—I wanted her.
Which pissed me off because I was already seeing somebody—as was she.
The jerk currently standing behind her asking her if she was all right.
Speaking of the devil, my phone rang and I grimaced as I pulled it out of my pocket.
“Hello?” I answered shortly.
“Why did you hang up on me like that?” Nivea asked. “Seriously, would it fucking hurt you at all to just say, ‘Nivea, I gotta go. Call you back in a sec?’”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m busy, Nivea.”
She growled in frustration, and I wanted to slam my phone onto the hood of my car until the phone stopped working and Nivea couldn’t bitch me out any more today.
“Yes, I’m okay,” Camryn said to the man at her side.
The man who was placing himself between me and Camryn as if I was about to do something stupid like beat the shit out of her for running into me.
Instead, I hung up and switched the phone onto silent.
I gave it ten minutes tops, and then she’d be calling me back.
“What the hell was that?” Carver rounded on me. “Did you have to be so mean?”
I blinked, surprised to see the kid had a spine. Ninety nine percent of the time he didn’t act like he did.
“I wasn’t being mean,” I disagreed. “I was pissed because she wouldn’t move her car and we had twenty-five people backed up behind us trying to get to work. If I hadn’t gotten her to move her car, that line would’ve only gotten longer. And then people start acting like dick heads because they’re late, and that’s when an accident happens.”
Carver narrowed his eyes, but Camryn’s hand on his arms st
illed the words that were about to spill from his mouth.
“Carver, it’s okay,” she said softly, lifting her hand off his arm. “I’m fine. I was just startled. The dog scares me.”
I frowned.
The dog scared her?
The dog didn’t just ‘scare’ her. The dog terrified her. Which pissed me off even more because the dog, Dooley, was my K-9 partner. He was the sweetest thing ever, and wouldn’t harm a single hair on Camryn’s pretty little head.
But, every time I tried to explain that to Camryn, she only got even more scared.
Honestly, it was quite annoying.
Having her look at me like I was about to pull out my service weapon and blow her away was getting really fucking old.
“There’s no damage,” Carver said, surprising me.
I hadn’t seen nor heard him move, but that likely had to do with the fact that I was staring at Camry’s shapely thighs rather than paying attention to what was going on around me.
“There’s yellow paint on my bumper,” I pointed out.
Carver snorted. “There’s paint, yes. There’s no damage body-wise, though.”
“No,” I agreed. “But unfortunately, I don’t get a choice in what I do or don’t report in my company vehicle. Not to mention everybody and their brother likely already knows what happened. You did this in front of the high school, where cheer and football practices are being held. Everybody already knows, I’m sure.”
Carver sighed. “Speaking of which, we’re late.”
Camryn snorted. “I know that, Carver. How do you think I ended up behind this man anyway?”
She looked at me accusingly, and it took everything I had not to laugh.
Was she blaming me for being late?
Surely not.
“You’re not seriously blaming me for you being late, are you?” I asked neutrally.
“You were going slow as hell,” she said. “And it’s annoying. Especially when you slow everybody else down, too.”
My brows rose. “You think it’s a bad thing that I go the speed limit?”
“The speed limit is forty through here. You were going thirty-one. And don’t even get me started on the fact that you stopped at that light—slamming on your brakes to do it. You should’ve gone through it.”
“I should’ve gone through it?” I asked. “You should’ve been paying attention and controlling your speed.”
She snorted delicately. “If you say so, Officer.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I really don’t have a choice but to report this and write you a ticket.”
Camryn rolled her beautiful brown eyes so hard that I only saw the whites of her eyes for a few long seconds.
“I’m sure that’s true in Flint land,” she sneered.
I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes. I was literally about to call her out on her snotty attitude when I heard my name being called.
By Nivea.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
“Oh, joy,” Camryn drawled. “Look who’s on the phone!”
I lifted my lip at her in a silent snarl. “Not a fucking word.”
Camryn’s lips peeled up at the edges in the cutest goddamn smirk I’d ever seen.
God, I wanted to kiss that mouth.
“Oh my God, Flint!” Nivea practically yelled through my phone that I’d somehow answered in my haste to silence the call. “I’ve been trying to call you for ten minutes!”
I brought the phone up to my mouth and said, “Now’s not a good time, Nivea.”
Actually, I’d only been feeling the vibration of her call for the last two, and I’d already told her I was fucking busy.
I was so goddamn done.
Tonight, I was having a talk with her, and tonight, I’d break it off seeing as at this point, all she did was annoy the fuck out of me.
It didn’t matter how good her mouth was, or how great she felt wrapped around my cock. She wasn’t worth all this bullshit she was putting me through.
“Oh my God, Flint,” Camryn mocked. “You didn’t answer her quick enough. You should buy her a donut and apologize.”
I narrowed my eyes at Camryn. “Don’t start.”
She held up her hands and said, “I didn’t start anything.”
Apparently, Camryn and Nivea did not get along. Not even a little bit.
I wondered why, but without actually holding a conversation with Camryn, it wasn’t likely that I’d ever know exactly what had happened between them.
Nivea, of course, had her explanations, but I didn’t believe them for a second.
She’s so rude and crass. Between her and her friend, Raleigh, I don’t even know why I try to be friends. They look at me like I’m dumb.
I had a feeling that it wasn’t Camryn and Raleigh being rude, it was Nivea.
“Who is that?” Nivea’s voice rose in volume. “Are you with her?”
I groaned audibly and said, “I’ll talk to you later.”
Then I hung up again, this time being sure to flip it not only to no ringer, but no vibration as well.
Camryn’s lip twitched. “You do know, right, that she’s going to throw a hissy fit. My guess is she’s already halfway here with the hounds of hell at her heels, ready to do battle.”
I grunted out a reply, then walked back to my car. “Bring me your license and insurance.”
“You can go ahead, Carver. We’ll be there momentarily,” Camryn said.
Carver went to protest—at least from what I’d heard since I didn’t bother to turn around to look at them—and Camryn made a sound in the back of her throat. “Trust me, I’ll be fine. Swear.”
Carver made an aggravated sound in the back of his throat. Moments later, I heard his car start up, and the engine had this groaning swish, and I realized that his fucking car was electric.
The weirdo had an electric car.
What the fuck?
I pulled out my ticket book and started to write a ticket, wishing that I hadn’t had to do this right now. I had plans later, and I wanted to go straight to the gym after this stupid, pointless meeting that I was required to go to by the principal of the school. But now I’d have to stop by the station and fill out a report, as well as let my supervisor know that I was rear-ended.
I could just see the look on Pessy my Lieutenant’s, face now. He was going to be pissed.
Luckily, all the damage that was done was a small scrape of yellow paint from Camryn’s front bumper. Her car, on the other hand, had quite a bit more damage.
I turned, ticket in hand, only to stop short of taking a single step because Camryn was standing right there, inches away from me, staring at me with anger written all over her face.
“Here,” I said, handing it to her. “Sign at the bottom.”
She glared at the ticket book I was holding out to her, and then snatched it from my hands.
She didn’t flat out tell me ‘fuck you’ but her actions spoke louder than actual words.
After scratching out a quick, barely legible signature, she practically shoved the book back in my chest.
I had to fight the urge to smile.
I liked her spunk.
Even more, I liked the way she looked when she was glaring at me.
“Anything else, Officer Flintstone?”
I barely held back the smile that threatened to break free at her words.
“Very original,” I said. “But you do realize there’s a whole other name in between my first name and my last, correct?”
“Actually,” she said, saccharine sweet. “I didn’t.”
“Flint Dagus Stone,” I told her.
She frowned. “Dagus? What kind of name is Dagus?”
She had the nerve to talk.
“What kind of name is Camryn Elvis Presley?” I countered.
She gasped.
“How did you know that was my name?” she demanded, irate.
“I know because I know
shit.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Now, go get in your car and get going. And watch the traffic. Try not to hit me again.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I wanted to reach out and poke her in the forehead.
Instead, I settled for a tilt of my chin in the direction of her car.
She stomped off in a huff. “I hope you’re happy.”
The moment she got into her car, she threw the ticket in the floorboard and started her car.
Moments later, she pulled out, and flipped me off for good measure.
Grinning, I got back in my car and spoke to my dog. “She’s crazy.”
My dog didn’t answer.
Hissy Fit (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1) Page 21
