ROCKED BY GRACE (LOVE AND CHAOS SERIES Book 1)

by M. J. Schiller

  Zane called out my name. I glanced at him. The cop grabbed my face, squeezing it and jerking it back. “Don’t look at him. On second thought, I think I want you on your knees like your boyfriend.”

  “Clint, anyone could see us here.”

  “True. How ’bout we take her to that old barn up Cherry Creek Road. I’ll let you go first.”

  Oh, my God.

  He hesitated. “My shift’s almost over, and Mary’s making pot roast tonight.”

  The older officer studied me one more time. I could hardly breathe. He scowled at his partner. “You owe me.”

  “Fine.” He kicked Zane. “Get on your feet.”

  The older cop spat to the side. “Damn shame waste of a good hard on. Turn around.” He cuffed me, leaning in to whisper, “I had so many more plans for you.” I squeezed my eyes shut and fought off a wave of nausea. I started to get in the car, but as I went to pass him he hissed in my ear. “Wait.” He tugged the zipper of my dress down.

  “What are you doing?”

  I looked to the other cop, but he was having a conversation with Zane.

  “Shut up,” the older policeman said through clenched teeth. He slid his sick hands over my skin to the front and grabbed me again, pinching my nipples, and rubbing his erection against my ass. “Fuck.” He let me go, didn’t bother to zip me, and began to push me into the car.

  Then I heard the most glorious sound ever, a car.

  “Fuck,” Zane’s cop said. “It’s the chief.”

  A squad car was pulling behind theirs.

  “We’re screwed.”

  “Shut up. It’s our word against theirs. Be cool.”

  Two policemen approached. The one who seemed to be in charge asked, “What’s going on here?”

  All of a sudden my guy was as sweet as cherry pie. “Oh, we got these two for indecent exposure down at the caverns.”

  “I tell you what’s going on,” Zane shouted. “Your officers here are molesting my girlfriend.”

  Chubby guy chuckled and said, “Oh. He’s just mad ’cause he resisted and now we got him for that, too.”

  Zane spit out blood. “Bullshit!”

  The policeman looked at me. “Is this true, ma’am?”

  I nodded.

  His jaw tensed.

  “Oh, I may have maybe brushed her breasts when she was resisting. But it’s no big—”

  Zane interrupted. “It was no brush. He was all over her and he told her—”

  The new guy held up his hand. “Stop there, please. We’ll take your statements down at the station. Officer Randoza, will you please take that gentleman to our car. Ma’am, if you’ll come with me.”

  “Gladly.”

  The other policeman went to Zane’s side of the car and took his arm to lead him to their car.

  As Zane passed the guy who had touched me he glared at him. “I’m going to have your fucking badge.”

  “Ahh. He’s bull shitting you because he’s pissed.”

  “We’ll take statements from you two, also, but as of this minute, you are suspended pending investigation. We will follow you to the station.”

  Zane twisted to throw them a smirk.

  When the man in charge was helping me into the car, he stopped. “Ma’am. Would you like me to zipper your dress?”

  “What?” A vein in Zane’s neck pulsed. “When did he unzip your dress?”

  “Sir. If you could please get into the car.”

  “That son-of-a-bitch.” Zane got in.

  “I would appreciate it if you would zip that, please.”

  He did so, and helped me into the back seat.

  Bumping against Zane’s shoulder was a relief.

  “Are you okay?”

  It took me a second to find my voice. “Yes.”

  He stared at me. “God. I’m so sorry, Grace.”

  “This isn’t your fault.”

  We were silent the rest of the way. When we got to the police station the squad car doors were opened. We looked at each other and both tried to smile to reassure the other. Once out, Zane didn’t take his gaze off me and his officer had to move him along because he tried to plant himself so he could watch me.

  Once inside, we were led straight to a small room with a table and chairs. They took our statements without commenting, other than asking for details to clarify things. Finally, the man who introduced himself as Chief of Police, David Lindstred, spoke to us. “I want to assure you if these allegations are true, they will be dealt with severely. Now, we’re putting you in holding cells, because there’s still the indecent exposure charge to work out.”

  “You aren’t really pressing charges after everything they did to us, are you?”

  The man held his hands out. “Sir. Like I said, we need to check into a few things. We have yet to decide on the charges.”

  Zane fumed silently.

  There appeared to be three holding cells, one to the right of the door, and two, connected, on the left. I was relieved when they put us across from each other. In my cell, one person was in the back corner, curled into a ball on the floor with a jacket over their head. I stayed right inside the door. After about fifteen minutes I sank to the ground, my back to the wall Zane and I shared, I extended my legs so no one got a shot up my dress.

  “Grace?” His voice came from the same level. He must be sitting on the floor, too. We had nothing to sit on. It was only concrete and steel bars, but it was clean and well-lit.

  “Zane?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, are you?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded dejected.

  I wanted to cheer him, if such a thing was possible in a jail cell. “That was like getting groped by Santa Claus.”

  Receiving no response, I thought he didn’t hear me. At least a minute passed before he answered. “I’m going to kill him when I get out of here.”

  “And land back in here? Uh-uh.” I glanced at the police chief who appeared to instruct a few of his officers on how to proceed. I knew they couldn’t hear us. I turned to face the front of the cell, hoping he would hear me better if I did that. “Besides, I need for you to finish what you started.” It was actually the last thing I wanted, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

  Again a decent amount of time passed. “Well, how about I sneak up on him and put a pillowcase over his head and beat him senseless?”

  I paused as if debating then sighed. “Tempting, but no.”

  An officer approached, so we went silent. He kept his eyes on me the whole time but went to Zane’s cell.

  “Time for your phone call.”

  As they shuffled him away he leaned back to tell me. “I’m calling Jericho. He’ll get us out of here.”

  He was brought back within minutes. He was still handcuffed but they had taken mine off. We waited until the guard walked away. “That was fast.”

  “He didn’t ask any questions. Not even what the charge was. He’s in St. Louis…it takes normal people around an hour to get here, so Jericho should be here in about thirty minutes. Hang tight.” He paused. “Do you get the sense something odd is going on here?”

  Other than them talking about raping me like they were running a suit to the cleaners?

  “Umm…what do you mean?” Simply hearing his voice was making me feel better.

  “Like…they didn’t fingerprint us, or search us, or anything. I think one of the guys recognized me. The tall one with the bushy mustache.”

  I located him. “Did you notice, they’re glancing over here a lot and discussing something?”

  “Yeah.”

  I studied all the men. Looked like your average middle-aged dads for the most part.

  Zane spoke again. “They didn’t even write up any paperwork that I could see.”

  “You sound like you’re familiar with the process.”

  He hesitated. “A few drunk and disorderlies.”

  I smirked, watching the men mill about outside. “So nothing as cool as indecent
exposure.”

  “Well…once.”

  “You did it with some other girl outside? Not in that cave, did you?”

  “No. No woman was involved. It was actually the night we named the band. It’s a long story, but the guys are bound to tell you it at some point.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Grace?”

  We were already talking, why was he calling my name? “Yes.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay? He didn’t…hurt you, did he?”

  “No, Zane. I’m fine. But, would it be okay if we canceled our reservations and went back to my place when we get out of here?”

  “Sure,” he replied quickly. “Anything you want.”

  When Jericho Tyler walked into the place, I rose from the floor, brushing my dress off. “He’s here, Zane.”

  “Jericho?” Shuffling noises indicated he was getting up, too.

  The jumble of officers, when seeing Jericho enter, scattered like thrown confetti. He approached the desk and the policeman now manning it.

  “Mr. Tyler,” the man said enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you.”

  Jericho spoke to the man in a low voice. He pulled out a wallet and some sort of exchange occurred which I couldn’t see. Then the man turned to call someone over from the section of the office hidden behind a door to the left of the desk. Jericho swiveled, leaning his right arm and elbow on the desk and crossing his legs at the ankles looking from me to Zane. He shook his head with an expression on his face that was a cross between amusement and disgust. The officer he spoke to was now in a huddle with the police chief. Jericho yelled over to the group then straightened, walking slowly over to us. Again he gave me a once over and stared down Zane. Zane didn’t make a peep. Returning his attention to me he altered his course slightly to come within feet of my cage. I think I took a step back. Jericho Tyler was much taller than I imagined. He wore some sort of silky, long sleeved loose-flowing purple shirt with a paisley print and black pants.

  “What’s a nice dame like you doing in a place like this?” he said in a passable Bogart voice. He gave Zane a withering stare, but his eyes twinkled and his lips were lifted. “Oh, wait. Yes. He put you here.” Swinging his gaze back to me, he offered a charming smile. “Nice to see you again, Grace.”

  He remembered my name? “Oh, thank you.”

  “Man, am I glad to see you.” Zane said.

  “I wish I could say the same,” he replied. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  “Umm…well…Grace and I were…you know…working on things between us, and—”

  “And working on things between you required indecent exposure?”

  “Umm…I’m afraid so.” He sounded contrite.

  The chief came out. “We are dropping all charges against you.” He ran a card through a scanner thing and the door opened.

  Jericho took both of my hands, bending to speak to me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  To my surprise, he put a comforting arm over my shoulder, and we turned to watch Zane’s release.

  He was outside his cell, holding his wrists out so they could remove his cuffs. At the same moment, the two officers who pulled us over were leaving the room where we made our statements, heading in our direction. As soon as his cuffs were off Zane rushed the guy who touched me.

  “Oh, shit,” Jericho said concisely.

  Zane spun the man around and coldcocked him. The man staggered backward a little bit and Jericho led me out of the line of fire with a “damn.”

  Zane wasn’t finished, but cops came from out of nowhere to subdue him, which was proving difficult as he strained against them, that vein in his neck sticking out again. The three or four men trying to hold him finally dragged him back a bit and, as he continued to fight, he was swallowed up by them.

  “Hold it,” the chief said. The restraining officers looked to him. He scrutinized the man whom Zane had hit.

  He shifted his massive weight, scowling, and wiped the blood from his mouth matching the dried blood on Zane’s. “I probably deserved that.” The words seemed to struggle out of his mouth. He glanced at the chief, who stared him down then turned to Zane.

  “Mr. Sanders…. Let him go,” he barked at the pack of men wrangling him. Zane yanked his arms out of their grip. The chief stepped up to us. “I’m going to let that slide, considering the situation.” He studied Jericho. “But you need to leave now.”

  Jericho cleared his throat, and Zane’s gaze switched to him. Jericho jerked his head in the direction of the door. Zane gave fatso another glare, then stormed past Jericho, slamming through the door. Jericho moved backward, taking me with him. “Gentlemen,” he said with a nod, then he whirled and quickly led me out the door. Zane’s boots were ringing off the pavement.

  Jericho let go of me. “What the hell was that for? It’s not enough getting arrested?”

  Zane’s eyes flashed. “He fucking put his hands on her. He…” he gestured vaguely, “…freaking grabbed her tits and was going to do more—” He peered at me and closed his mouth.

  Jericho hesitated a half beat then turned around. “Well what are we waiting for then?” He and Zane started marching toward the door. “Bastard,” he muttered.

  “Oh, no.” I shifted over to block their path, my arms spread wide. “Not that I don’t appreciate this show of valor…”

  Jericho’s jaw tightened. “We’re not gonna simply let that slide.”

  “We gave them our statements.” I switched to pleading, “Could we please just get out of here?” Tears sprang to my eyes.

  Zane came over immediately, placing his palms on either side of my face and lifting it to kiss me softly. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” He embraced me for a moment, laying his chin on top of my head when I pressed my cheek to his chest. A thought crossed my mind, and I drew back. “Was that your guitar hand?” I lifted it to examine his knuckles.

  Zane pulled it away, shaking it. “It’s fine.”

  Jericho was leaning backward with a huge grin, watching on with his arms crossed. “Guitar hand? Last time I checked, the instrument was played with two hands.”

  “Yeah, I know. It was an excuse I used to stop him from torturing me. Kinda backfired, by the way.” He exhaled. “Thanks, Jer. I know it was a drive and disrupted your evening.”

  “Oh, no.” He uncrossed his arms and lifted his palms in our direction. “This makes it totally worth it. That was almost like…domestic.”

  Zane fought a smile. “Shut up.” We strode past his bandmate.

  “I feel all warm and fuzzy now.” He trailed after us.

  “Shut up,” Zane repeated.

  “Wait ’til Rafe hears about this.” He slung his arms over Zane’s shoulders from behind.

  Zane tried to shoo him away. “Get off me, bro.” He ducked to avoid the hands messing with his hair. “And you’re not saying anything to Rafe.”

  “Wanna bet?” Jericho countered.

  “What did you say to them, anyway? Their attitude seemed to change when you arrived. I thought for sure I’d get an assaulting an officer charge.”

  I stopped. “Yet you did it anyway?”

  Zane peered at me. “Like he said, he had it coming.”

  “Yeah,” Jericho added. “I agree with that.” He looked at Zane. “I just sort of casually mentioned that the bad publicity created by having a cultural icon in their prison might be more trouble than it was worth.”

  Zane snorted. “Cultural icon? Don’t you think that’s laying it on a bit thick?” He interrupted whatever Jericho was going to say. “However you said it, thank you. You saved our asses.” Zane gestured toward a sleek, red Corvette parked haphazardly in front of us. “This your pile of junk?” He shook his head with upturned lips. He spun around, walking backward. “Didn’t they have anything in blue?”

  “No,” Jericho admitted. “I had to settle for red.”

  “Oh, the suffering you do,” Zane cracked. As they continued to rib each other, Zane reached for my hand, s
eeming lighter now. I smiled.

  But after Jericho left, offering me a spontaneous hug and sympathy for what I went through and got in his car, it was suddenly quiet. We walked the rest of the way to my car, which was miraculously pulled out of impound. The keys were in the ignition.

  “Do you want me to drive?”

  “Yes, please.” I started to walk to the other side of the car but he jerked me back into his arms.

  His fingertips touched my neck under my hair, sliding up to lift it as he swallowed me in a kiss. For a few seconds his lips collided with mine frantically. He separated to look at me. His thumbs brushed over my cheeks, his gaze watery. “I was so scared of what they might do to you.” He clutched me to his chest, shaking a little as he tried to reel it in.

  My arms circled his waist and we stood that way for several seconds. Finally, I broke the embrace, peering into his face. “We’re fine. I’m fine.” I sniffed, giving him a weak smile. “Can we get the hell out of here?”

  “Yes.” He started to walk around to open my door, but I waved him off. “I got it.”

  I got in on the other side, and Zane peeled out of the parking lot. The more distance we put between us, the less tight I felt. I curled up on my side, facing the window. Zane reached over and adjusted the jacket I had over me as a blanket, but my eyes were open. I couldn’t sleep wondering about what might have happened if that cop’s shift hadn’t been near the end or if his wife Mary had made pea soup instead of pot roast.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Zane

  I sped through the dark, trying to keep pace with my thoughts. She was asleep beside me, facing my direction. Curled underneath my jacket, she looked like the little girl she’d once been. She was acting so brave, but I know she was scared shitless, like me.

  What the hell is wrong with them? In what world is what they did to her all right?

  I kept seeing her face as she struggled to hold it together. And I sat and did nothing, nothing to help her. I slammed the heel of my palm against the wheel. Then remembered I might wake her. She stirred a little, but remained asleep. I slowed the car. With her beside me I’d take no chances.

  But despite my best efforts, the images flashed across my windshield. His hands grabbing her breasts, running up her leg and lifting her dress—talk about indecent exposure—him slamming her against the car. My jaw was so tight it ached, but not worse than my heart did. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for me. What was I thinking taking her in that cave? I was thinking of myself and my damned libido. I was as bad as they were, using her to gratify myself. Shit. Maybe I bought in to all this rock star bullshit. Who was I kidding?