Read Online Following Fabian by Holley Trent - Free Book Online Page A

wasn’t used to it, and didn’t like the feeling. All she knew was that she couldn’t let this man slip out on his own and play vigilante. Righteous anger wasn’t a good enough weapon against real evil. He needed a plan, some backup, and a lot of luck.
    He nodded, and loosened his grip on her fingers, but before he could take a step toward the hood, the policeman put up his hands.
    “Hold on. Let’s talk for a moment. You got some ID, ma’am? Sir?”
    “What for?” Astrid asked. “I realize I’m in a loading zone, but I am loading. I’m picking this gentleman up, and we’re going to be on our way the moment he puts on his seatbelt.”
    She added that last bit with a wriggle of her eyebrows.
    “The loading is the problem.” He reached for his handcuffs, and Astrid reached for the door handle.
    “Nope, nope,” the officer said. He wagged a fat finger at her. “Stay right there, and I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
    He grabbed Fabian’s backpack, and kicked it far from him. Then, he grabbed his wrist, slapped one side of the cuffs on it, and yanked his other arm behind his back.
    Fabian spat out something in rapid-fire Spanish, struggling against the other man’s rough handling, and Astrid suspected nothing he’d said would improve their situation any. But, she knew the law. She’d been on dean’s list nearly every semester of law school, and maybe she didn’t know Rapid City statutes specifically, but it’d be insane to think this Keystone Cop could arrest a guy just for lingering beside an open car window.
    “Sir, I’m sorry, you have to explain what you’re detaining him for. He doesn’t speak English well. Just let me get out of the car, and we can smooth things out here.”
    Fabian tried to pull away from the man’s grip, only for the officer to give the cuffs a hard yank in the opposite direction.
    He muttered something in Spanish Astrid actually recognized: “Filthy pig.”
    She suppressed a laugh, and said, “Fabian, please, don’t struggle.”
    He shook his head at her, and his expression read quite easily, What?
    “Uh…no fight?”
    He rolled his eyes.
    “So, you know this guy’s name?” The cop said. “Repeat customer?”
    Now she got it. The greasy fucker thought she was soliciting the services of a prostitute.
    As if she had to pay for it if she wanted it. Her former joke came back to haunt her, and she’d been right. It wasn’t funny.
    “He’s not a prostitute.” She reached for the handle again, and pulled it.
    Fuck this guy . Fuck him and his little baton.
    Was she supposed to be scared of that thing?
    “Ma’am, you need to get back in that car until I’m ready for you.”
    “Well, I’m ready for you right now, big boy,” she said, and propped her hands on her hips. “You see a woman in a rental car and you think you can throw a little weight around, but let me tell you something. I know the law. Studied it. There’s no fucking law that says I can’t pick my boyfriend up after he’s changed his mind about getting on a bus. Let. Him. Go.”
    One corner of the slimeball’s chapped lips quirked up, and he reached for the radio at his shoulder.
    He pushed the button, still grinning.
    “We got a situation down at the tour bus pick-up lane. I’m going to need some backup.”
    She scoffed, disbelieving. “Fuck you, dude. You’re just jealous I didn’t offer to pay you for some dick.”

CHAPTER EIGHT
    Fabian stretched his arm through the gap between the two chairs and was just barely able to press the pad of his left pinky against Astrid’s naked wrist.
    She tipped her head a nearly imperceptible tick toward him and grunted softly.
    “It’s a good thing you didn’t have any weapons in the car,” he said.
    She chuckled. “No kidding.” Sighing, she rolled her shoulders and slumped a bit more in the hard plastic chair. She splayed her fingers, made a fist, and shook out her hand the best she could. She managed to grab his fingertips, which were starting