Page 105 of Keeping Score

“I do!”

“Great.” The clerk unlocked the flimsy gate holding us in the cell and led Cassie to a payphone in the corner of the room.

“I’ll call Liam,” she said, smiling as if she’d just solved all of our problems.

“You can’t call my brother.” I stared at her open-mouthed. “He’ll kill me!”

“He’s my husband!” she protested, hand still hovering over the payphone.

“Which means he’ll doubly kill me for dragging you into this!” I exclaimed. “And then, knowing him, he’ll probably ban you from planning me the extravagant funeral I deserve!”

“You didn’t drag me,” she frowned. “I came willingly.”

I snorted. “Good luck getting him to believe that.”

“Fine,” she said, holding the phone out toward my cell. “Then you call Brody.”

“Thanks, Cass, but I’d rather die in jail.”

She shrugged. “Then, back to Plan A.”

And before the protest could even leave my mouth, she was dialing numbers on the payphone and holding it to her ear.

He answered almost immediately.

“Liam?” she said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Hi, I’m—no, I’m okay. I know I didn’t come home when I said I’d be home. I’m still with Maggie. We got a little held up.”

I laughed. That was an understatement.

“Uh, yeah.” Cassie said, turning to look at where I sat on the bench. “Maggie’s okay, too.”

I arched my brows at her, mouthing, really?

“Yes, I’d love if you could pick me up.” She said, eyes shutting in relief at her white knight swooping in to her rescue. “That’s actually why I was calling you. Maggie and I both need a ride home because we’re kind of…” She paused, biting her lip. “Well, we’re sort of in jail right now.”

She held the phone away from her ear and winced, before dragging it back reluctantly. I groaned out loud as the clerk watched us with amusement.

“No!” Cassie protested. “It’s not all Maggie’s fault. Look, I’ll tell you the story when you get here. But everything is fine, I promise.”

I rolled my eyes, because of course he would assume that I was the one responsible for landing us in jail.

He was right. But still, the assumption hurt.

“No, Liam!” she squealed, and then cradled the phone a little tighter to her ear before lowering her voice. “We aren’t next to any murderers. I don’t think they even keep them here.” She looked around. “We’re in some sort of holding cell, I think.”

She stared at me with sympathy, and I could already tell my brother was giving her an earful about how she never should mix her sweet, innocent self with the likes of me.

But honestly, he was probably right.

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. Thank you. I love you, too.”

She hung the phone up, turning to me with a look of guilt.

“Liam’s coming,” she said, almost apologetically.

“Great,” I exhaled, and collapsed backward onto the bench. I shut my eyes, content to block out the rest of the world for as long as possible.

“Liam Brynn?” the clerk said, interrupting my solitude. “As in… the hockey player? Do you think he’ll give me an autograph?”