Tackled by Love (18 page)

“Indecent exposure.” The cop chuckles slightly, like somehow this is all a joke, but I don’t find any of it funny.

Chancing a look in their direction, I see Chad’s eyes get as big as saucers. “Wow, looks like Landon is bringing out the slut in you. With your antics in front of your home the other night and now this?” His eyes are traveling up and down my body and I cringe in disgust. I’m still in my workout clothes with my wet hair falling down around my shoulders, soaking my shirt. I’m freezing and my nipples are razor sharp as they stick out under my top, and I can do nothing to cover myself since my hands are still cuffed behind my back. Closing my eyes, I turn my head to avoid his repulsive stare. A few seconds later I feel the heat from someone standing too close to me. With my head still facing the other way, he leans down and says into my ear so only I can hear him, “And to think I could’ve hit that back in high school. All I had to do was wait a little while for you to lose the fat.” He makes a tsking noise. “Such a shame.”

Anger flashes through me as my jaw clenches. I’m just about to turn around and tell him to fuck himself when I hear his voice. “Get the fuck away from her.” He sounds lethal and Chad picks up on it too, quickly putting some distance between us. Turning around, I see Landon with a man in a suit who I’m guessing is his lawyer. His features are set and his eyes are cold as his gaze stays fastened on Chad.

Taking a few more steps away from me, he places his hands on his belt. “I’m just trying to make her feel better. Jail can be a scary place, you know?” I don’t miss the threat in his words, but it’s the murderous expression on Landon’s face that causes me worry.

“You fucking pig,” Landon grits out through his teeth.

“You better watch who you’re talking to or I’ll arrest you too.” Chad removes his handcuffs from the back of his belt and starts walking toward Landon.

“Oh, please. That’s freedom of speech. He can call you all the names he wants as long as he doesn’t make any threats and you know it. I’d hate to sue the precinct for infringing on someone’s First Amendment Rights. Or I could sue the precinct for sexual harassment since it appears to me that you were invading Ms. McCray’s personal space and making unwanted advances,” the man in the suit says. His face remains impassive as he threatens the officer, but his words are effective because Chad quickly backs down. “That’s what I thought. I’d like a little privacy while I speak to my client,” he tells the officer that arrested me.

A few minutes later, I’m seated in a private room. I rub my sore wrists from where the cuffs once were. “I’m Mr. Henderson and I’ll be representing you.” He holds out his hand and I shake it. “Tell me what happened.” So I do. I tell him every little detail I can think of. He listens intently, jotting down some notes here and there and nodding occasionally.

“Did the officer that arrested you read you your Miranda Rights?” Looking up from his notepad, he waits for my answer.

“I don’t think so.” Everything seems to have happened so fast that I’m not sure if he did or not.

“Did the words ‘You have the right to remain silent’ blah, blah, blah ever come out of his mouth?”

“No.” I know, without a doubt, that those words were never uttered to me.

Mr. Henderson starts to laugh while shaking his head. “I swear, these little hick towns make it too easy for me. That’s a violation of your rights, Ms. McCray. I was going to try to plea it down, but with this information I will petition the court to drop the case. I know the judge down here, so I’ll make a phone call and get him to give you bail. The rest should be taken care of Monday morning.” Packing up his stuff, he stands and hands me his business card. “Hang tight here while I make a phone call. Keep this and call me if you need anything.”

A little stunned that it was that easy, I say, “Thank you so much, Mr. Henderson.”

“Not a problem. But a word of advice: next time, skinny dip at your home.” With that, he turns around and walks out the door as I turn 50 shades of red.

***

Five long hours later, I’m being released and walking out the front door. I look around, wondering how I’m going to get home, when I spot Landon leaning against his car with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He walks briskly toward me as soon as he sees me. Strong arms engulf me in a tight embrace and I soak in the comfort he provides.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he murmurs against my head.

“It’s okay,” my words are muffled into his chest.

“No, it’s not. You didn’t want to jump in naked and I pressured you to do it. It’s all my fault and I can’t apologize to you enough.” Grabbing my shoulders, he pushes me away gently so he can search my face.

“Am I happy that I was arrested? No. Am I completely mortified by the whole situation? Yes. But I’m also glad you pushed me to do that. It was liberating in a way I never knew existed and it made me realize that I’ve been hiding my whole life. So, thank you for showing me what it’s like to throw inhibition out the window for a moment and just live without the worry of what others are thinking of me.” Standing up on my tip toes, I kiss him quickly on the lips.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, while barely shaking his head. “How did I get so damn lucky? I thought you’d be so pissed at me. I was prepared to do a lot of groveling and pleading if it came down to it.” He turns and we walk to his car where he opens the door for me so I can get in. I rub my hands together in an effort to unthaw them. The car was already running, so the inside is nice and warm.

Once Landon gets in the driver’s seat, I turn and ask, “So, I want to hear the groveling part of this speech you prepared. What would you have said?”

The corner of his mouth lifts up. “Sweetheart, talking was never part of the plan. I’m more of a ‘show you’ kind of guy.” He winks at me and puts the car in drive so we can pull away.

Damn, it’s hot as hell in this car right now.

***

Monday came and went. Just as promised, Mr. Henderson was able to get the charges dropped on a technicality because my Miranda Rights were never read to me. Relieved doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling. Up until I got the call, my stomach was in knots waiting for something to fall through and land me right back in jail.

Now it’s Tuesday, and I’m in the grocery store. I absolutely hate grocery shopping. Now that I think about it, I’ve never met anyone who actually enjoys it. It’s one of those things that seem great when you’re a kid, but when you’re an adult you realize that it sucks ass.

Getting in line at the register to check out, I run into my least favorite person in the town. If there’s anyone that deserves to be punched in the face, it’s this girl. The only thing missing is her other friends and ringleader, Valerie.

“If it isn’t our new celebrity,” she sneers at me as she starts ringing up my groceries. I wish there was another line open so I could avoid her. I don’t say anything in an effort to keep from antagonizing her. I just want to pay for my stuff and get out of here. “What? You’re too good to talk to us small town folks now that your face is on the cover of a magazine? Enjoy it while it lasts because he’s just using you to make Val jealous.”

This catches my attention. Snapping my eyes up to her, I ask, “What are you talking about? What magazine?” She nods her head toward the rack behind me and I quickly turn around. My mouth falls open when I see what she’s talking about. There, across the front page of one of those trashy tabloids, is my face. The headline reads:

Landon Stone’s mystery woman revealed.

Check out this exclusive as we talk to her former classmates.

BONUS: Never before seen nude photos of the couple and how that led to his new girlfriend’s arrest.

All the blood drains from my face and a steel ball settles in my stomach. This can’t be happening. Afraid to look at it in the store, I throw the magazine on the conveyor belt, waiting impatiently as she rings everything up with a smirk on her face. I finally pay and high tail it out of there. Once in my car, I flip through the pages until I find the story. The picture that immediately catches my eye has the air leaving my lungs. Right there for the whole world to see is my senior high school yearbook picture. The caption below says, “Autumn McCray, the real life ugly duckling. Here she is in high school packing on quite a bit of extra weight. An unidentified source tells us that she would often sit in a corner alone and binge eat on junk food.”

I put my hand over my mouth to hold back the rising bile as I digest word after word of lies and exaggerations on paper. Right when I think it can’t get worse, I turn the page and see a picture of me naked. Of course the breasts are censored, but that doesn’t really matter to me. Oh my god, my dad is probably going to see this! How the fuck did they get this picture, and more importantly, who took this picture? It was just me and Landon until the cop showed up. Are there paparazzi following him and he doesn’t know it?

Not able to stomach anymore of this garbage, I throw the magazine as hard as I can against the window, letting out a strangled cry. I grip my hair in my hands and rest my head on the steering wheel. I’ve spent the last few years trying desperately to separate myself from that girl in the magazine. I threw away all the old pictures I had—except the one I keep taped to the visor in my car-- so I didn’t have to remember what I looked like and the pain that went along with it. Now, here it is, ready to be picked apart and ridiculed by people from all over. Suddenly, I’m thrown back and I’m that girl sitting alone at lunch, having no friends, no dates, no one to talk to, and no self esteem.

I need to talk to Landon.

I’m not cut out for this kind of shit.

I don’t think I can do this.

Driving to Autumn’s place, a million thoughts are going through my head. She had called not too long ago asking for me to come over so we could talk. She wouldn’t tell me what it was about, but I’m guessing it can’t be good. Her voice was clipped and void of emotion, not the warm, friendly tone I’ve grown used to with her.

Pulling up to her driveway, I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans. I get out of my car and jog up to the door, anxious to get this over with. She answers before I even finish knocking.

“Come on in.” She holds the door open and gives me a tight smile while looking at the ground. Yep, definitely not good. I walk over the threshold and wait for her to shut the door behind me.

“What’s going on?” I face her and look deep into her eyes, hoping they’ll reveal what’s going on. She closes them and sighs.

“Let’s go have a seat so we can talk.” I kiss the corner of her mouth and walk into the living room to sit down on the couch.

“I have to say, you’re making me nervous as hell.” I rub my hands down the front of my jeans again.

“Have you read the latest gossip magazine?” She looks down at her hands that are resting in her lap. Her voice comes out small and timid, like she’s dreading what she has to tell me.

I let out a short laugh. “No, all that stuff is garbage. Why?” She nods her head to the coffee table where a magazine sits. Picking it up, I see Autumn’s gorgeous face across the front of it. All the blood drains from my face. Fuck, I’m afraid to open it and see the shit they printed in here. I know firsthand how vicious those damn vultures at the tabloids can be.

“Go ahead and open it.” She whispers and I look up at her, only to see her still looking down at her lap. She’s grinding her teeth and fidgeting with her fingers. Whatever is in this magazine has clearly upset her. After reading the headlines, I’m instantly seeing red. Nude photos? How the fuck did they get those?! Quickly flipping the pages, I finally get to the story she’s featured in and I make a silent vow to fuck up the bastard that put her in this thing.

The first picture that catches my eye explains why she’s so upset. Her yearbook picture is on full display, but it’s the caption that makes me feel sick to my stomach. My jaw starts to tick and I don’t know what to say. Looking back up to Autumn, her eyes are still downcast, but her lower lip is quivering, fighting the urge to cry.

“Come here, sweetheart.” I raise my arm out so she can lean up against my side and I can hold her, but she shakes her head. Her denying me the opportunity to comfort her crushes me, and my heart falls to the pit of my stomach.

“No, keep reading.” She pushes the magazine into my chest with shaky hands. “Now that you’re reminded of the fat Autumn, keep going so you can see what else they put in there.” Her voice is shaky as pushes me to continue. This has got to be one of her worst nightmares. I know she struggles with self image and seeing the old her printed for the world to see is a huge blow to the confidence I’ve been watching her build. Not sure what to say, I do as she asks and keep reading. The next page has me clutching the magazine in my fist, wanting to kill a motherfucker as I read about her arrest for getting caught fucking by the lake, and more information from “inside sources.” It’s the last paragraph that really puts me in a blind rage.