The Pretend Boyfriend novel Chapter 40

"Yes?"

"You are under arrest."

The rest of his Miranda rights are lost in the drone of the officer's voice as hands jerk his naked body up, and his wrists are cuffed behind his back. Brian stares in horror at the ruins of the evening. Broken glass coffee table. Scattered shards of glass everywhere. Smashed three thousand dollar lampstand. Torn curtains.

His clothes strewn all over the floor.

And a torn silken bathrobe crumpled in a heap beside them.

What? What? What? What? A ship is plowing through the mists of his brain - a flotsam of memories struggling to come to the surface, like a shipwreck victim clawing for air. And failing miserably to ascend.

Something cuts through his bare feet. He lifts his right leg up and stares at his sole.

Blood.

Embedded glass fragments.

And that's not the only damage to his body. The bloody trails of four fingernails have been raked and imprinted upon his chest.

What the fuck happened here?

Brian is fucking her, gazing into her eyes oh so deeply and murmuring, "I love you, I love you, I love you" as his hips thrust and slam into hers. She can look into his large liquid brown eyes forever - those eyes of endless promise and discovery.

"I love you too, Brian," she whispers, wishing this moment will last.

The bedside table phone rings. And rings and rings, even as he continues to fuck her.

Something pops.

Brian disappears and Sam's eyes flutter open. Beside her bed, her cellphone buzzes insistently. The ringtone she has chosen for this particular caller is 'Independent Woman'.

Sam sleepily reaches over for her cellphone. It momentarily stops, and then starts up again as she gropes for it and almost drops it. She presses the 'Answer' button.

"Yes?"

"Why the hell didn't you answer?" Cassie's annoyed voice compresses the Verizon sound barrier. "Caleb's gone to the police station."

"What for?"

"Didn't anyone call you? Brian called his lawyer, and his lawyer called Caleb. So I'm calling you now. Brian's been arrested."

Sam sits up in bed. "What?"

"Get dressed and pick me up in thirty minutes." Cassie sounds almost gleeful.

Sam is peeved. She knows Cassie doesn't like Brian, but really - is that a good reason to gloat over someone else's misfortune? Is there ever?

The two officers opposite the table are polar opposites. In fact, he's certain they are going to stick the good cop, bad cop routine on him. One of them is a black officer with a badge that says 'CUTTER'. The other is a hulking Norse god named 'RILEY'.

Quaint.

Both of them have officious-looking folders on the table before them.

Officer Cutter says, "Now, Mr. Morton, tell us exactly what happened last night."

"I will speak on his behalf," Karen says.

"No, I'm OK about this," Brian says. He ignores her glare. "I have nothing to hide."

"Go on," Officer Riley says.

Brian takes a deep breath.

"I was at the Galois, watching some opera about some ancient Egyptian people who have been wrongly accused." Well, that was what he read in the program, not that he watched Act Three. "I was with my friends - Samantha and Caleb and Cassie."

Well, Cassie is kind of a friend. OK, a friend of a friend, but spare him the technicalities.

"I received an alert on my cellphone during intermission that the alarm in my apartment had gone off."

"You live at 675, North Drive, don't you, Mr. Morton?"