“He didn’t even touch me. I’m just fine.” She smiled back at him.
“Are you Mark Mancini?”
They both looked up to find the sheriff frowning at them and he internally cussed.
He wouldn’t take it back, the fucker deserved every punch he got, but he was wishing that he wasn’t going to have to explain to Branson why he was locked up.
Let alone Dominic.
The minute they ran his name at the station and saw his record, he would be lucky to not be spending a month in the slammer.
“Yes.” He growled.
The sheriff was watching him, and he had to give the man credit, he didn’t seem to be scared at all and based on how he had said his name, he already knew who he was.
“I need you to come with me.” The sheriff said the dreaded words that he knew were coming, the ones that just made this whole fucking mess even more complicated.
He nodded, knowing that putting up any resistance would just make it worse.
He knew how this was going to go.
But his little bird wasn’t having it.
Shocking him she stepped out from next to him, sliding in front of him, making a clear statement, but staying right there in his arms.
“Now just a minute. That man there was harassing me. Wouldn’t leave me alone. Got in my face, told me to get my order I would have to perform some kind of sexual act. So my Mark stepped in to save me, and you’re telling me that he’s the one in trouble?”
A little over the top,he thought but he didn’t stop her.
Her head was up, her chin tilted up showing that stubborn streak that he thought was so freaking cute, and if it wasn’t for his arms around her, he suspected that she would be right up in the sheriff’s face.
“Ma’am we just need him to come to the station to answer a few questions. That’s all. I assure you, he is not under arrest,” the man said in a formal tone, but Mark saw the slight tilt to his lips.
“And you have to bring him in to the sheriff’s office for that. Right! Where every other person here you just talk to them on the spot.” Her voice started growing, the heads around them turning to watch, and he pulled her in farther to him.
The sheriff dropped his smirk at her accusing words, and glared at her, before tilting his head back to look at him.
“You’re Mark Mancini.”
The sheriff stood there for a moment starring him down. He didn’t back down, but he made sure that he didn’t glare at the man. He wasn’t about to give him anything else to charge him with.
“You two are staying with Branson, correct?” He nodded again warily. He didn’t know what Branson and the sheriff’s relationship was, but he really didn’t want to bring any trouble Branson’s way.
He had his own problems.
“While you’re here in town try to keep it quiet will you,” the sheriff said, then tipping his head to Winter he turned and walked to his car where the fucker that had harassed his little bird was sitting in the back.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his breath whooshing out as his shoulders dropped as the sheriff drove off.
He didn’t even know where to begin with that.
“What was that?” she asked looking up at her, a frown on her face.
“I have no clue. But let’s get out of here. I’m not giving him a chance to change his mind.”
“I don’t understand,” she said as he walked them quickly toward his truck. “He was so set on taking you in, then just in the blink of an eye he changed his mind. Does he know who you are? I mean it’s just ridiculous to be labeled because of who you are.” Her voice was rising, and he almost started chuckling.
She said that as if he hadn’t been in the Familia.
