Play With Me (17 page)

One of the
guards hurried to shove a chair into the back of my knees, and I plopped down
on the uncomfortable wooden seat. Quinn stood beside me, arms folded over his
chest like a bouncer of a night club. Ooh, my own personal pit bull. This eased
at least some of the suppressed fear in my gut. I could lift my chin again. The
move always ignited the pig-rude manners I’d gleaned from Debby.

The judge calmed
himself with a few heavy breaths and sat down, too. His black robe with its
puffy sleeves made him look more like a watchful owl than a person of
authority. When he lowered his gaze to the papers in front of him, I took the
chance to poke Quinn’s thigh with my elbow.

“What?” he
hissed.

Hands lifted, I
displayed the torturing shackles and grinned sweetly. “Remove these?”

Quinn cut a
glance to the exit, then studied me for a second, his brows furrowing into a
line. “I don’t think so.”

Huh? And I
thought he was my friend. My best you-evil-bastard scowl only coaxed out his
lopsided grin before he tousled my hair.

When Judge Abe
cleared his throat, all eyes returned to him. “Miss Montiniere, I’ve followed
your criminal progress for nearly a year now. As I was informed, you will be
released from the Westminster Children’s Home in less than seven weeks.” He
pulled his glasses off his nose and placed them carefully on the stack of
papers. “This gives rise to serious concern. With a criminal past like yours, I
doubt not a second that you’ll be out on a robbing tour of London as soon as
your eighteenth birthday arrives.”

Criminal past?
Hello? I only nicked from the rich to give it to the poor. In this particular
case, the poor was me. “Shouldn’t a person in your position exercise his office
without prejudice?” I had hardly spoken the words when Quinn’s fingers dug
painfully into my shoulder. 

The judge let my
statement go by unnoticed. He only drew a deep, slow breath. “To prevent the
worst, I should let you stay under house arrest in the orphanage and delay an
official accusation for your latest theft until you turn eighteen. In that
case, I would have full authority to send you to prison.”

Holy shit.

He paused to
smile, and I wished the watchdog at my side would unshackle my hands so I could
scratch the judge’s glassy eyes out. “But as it is, I’m pleased to welcome your
mother in this room today. We had an unofficial meeting this morning, and I’m
glad—”

“You were the
traitor who called her to this meeting!” I jumped from my seat, cutting his
sentence short. A siren went off in my head, tuning out common sense.

“Sit, Jona,”
Quinn barked through clenched teeth. His palm on my shoulder pushed down hard.
I whined, but gave in to his strength.

“And I’m glad,”
Abe continued as if no one had interrupted him in the first place. “She told me
about a relative of yours in France who offered to give you a home and a place
to stay for as long as you wish. Your aunt and her husband own vineyards there,
and you will do charity hours on the grounds every day until you come of age.”

The judge had
gone nuts. This was the only reasonable explanation for such nonsense coming
out of his mouth. “You’re going to ship me off to the continent? Like a slave?
You can’t do that! It’s illegal.” It had to be. Right?

Abe quirked one
brow, not answering my assumption. “Since serious health issues made your
mother dependent on other people’s help, she currently lives with her sister in
France. We see this as a great opportunity for you to get to know your
biological family and maybe tighten the bonds anew.”

Tighten them
anew? How could they be tightened if they didn’t exist in the first place?
Nothing existed in this life that could form or tighten anything between me and
my mother. Let alone a bond. No contact with that bitch and her pet, thanks.
And where the hell did this said aunt come from? I’d never heard of any
relatives in Britain, France, or elsewhere.

If I jumped up
in protest again, Quinn would only have pushed me back into my seat. Instead, I
raised my right arm, like a good little girl, to draw the judge’s attention.
Annoyingly, with the cuffs on, my left hand lifted, too.

“Please, take me
to prison instead.” My request came out dry and emotionless. Dead earnest.

From above,
Quinn glared daggers at me. I cut a glance at him, but then studied Abe’s old
eyes again, awaiting his final adjudication with an empty pit in my stomach
growing fast.

“I do believe
you graduated from high school last spring?”

Not knowing what
Abe’s question could have to do with my punishment, I nodded. My marks in math
had been lousy, but at least I did it.

“And currently
you aren’t taking any summer classes in Miss Mulligan’s Children’s Home?”

“No.”

“Then you are
going to live with your family.” The bang of his little wooden hammer slamming
onto the small round plate sealed the matter. “Now get out of my courtroom and
don’t come back.”

I was so
screwed.

When they
started making plans over my head, and voices mixed to a painful blur, Quinn
let me wait outside the room. I had to promise not to run off or pick up a
fight with an officer again before he opened the door for me. I restrained from
giving him the finger and slipped out.

Elbows propped
on my bent knees, I sat on the floor in the hallway with my back resting
against the windowed wall. The chain of the cuffs rattled mockingly. With them
on, I wouldn’t get far on an escape for fresh air. I might as well surrender to
my horrendous fate.

Utterly
miserable and confused about my new future, and no less annoyed by the glances
of passing officials, my head dipped back, my gaze focusing on the blank
ceiling. Out of habit when I was by myself—and stuck knee-deep in shit—I
started humming a song I didn’t know the name of. It always had a strangely
soothing effect on me. Odds were I had made up the melody myself over the
years. But I’d hummed, whistled or tapped the rhythm with my fingers so often
the tune wouldn’t get out of my head ever.

The door to
Abe’s room opening opposite me didn’t disrupt my low singing. But when my
mother’s blond friend came out and leaned one shoulder casually against the
column in the middle of the hallway, the hum died in my throat.

“Hi,” he said
with a compassionate look that made me wish the traitor, Quinn, had taken off
those damn handcuffs so I wouldn’t look like a complete idiot.

Lips pressed
together, my fingers waggled in a feeble greeting. The mere sight of him sent a
quiver of excitement to my stomach.

“That was quite
an interesting…situation in there.”

With an evil
grin, I hoped to send the message ‘Mind your own crap, buddy,’ but out loud, I
said sweetly, “Glad you enjoyed the show.”

“I didn’t
really.” He wrinkled his nose. “Getting involved with Laurel and Hardy in there
wasn’t your best idea. Even a smart girl like you might get hurt in a fight
with those two.”

Yeah, sure. My
eyes narrowed to slits. But his words warmed my heart in an unfamiliar way.

The young man
nodded his chin at my tied hands. “They seem rather uncomfortable.”

And they bloody
well were, but I shrugged it off like it was nothing unusual. “The latest
fashion. You heard the judge, I wear them quite often.”

A teasing smile
played around his lips that spiked my blood pressure. “Shall we take them off?”
he said.

He must be
kidding. “Unless you’ve got teeth like a hacksaw, I don’t see how that would
work.”

Grin widening,
he crossed the hall to me, pulling out a key-ring from his pocket. He squatted,
leveled his eyes with mine, and shook the ring in front of my face. The
friendly jingle of metal filled the high hallway.

My mouth sagged
open. “Where did you get these from?”

“Chief Madison.”

“You stole them
from Quinn?” I pulled my hands reflexively out of his reach.

“Of course not.”
The blond god gave me a pointed look. “I asked for them.”

Why would this
guy ask my officer friend to release me? Frowning, I concentrated on the safety
pin in my jeans. “Quinn wouldn’t unshackle me when I asked him to.”

His intense blue
eyes locked with mine. “I had to solemnly swear to keep an eye on you. Now hold
still.” Cool fingers curled around my wrist to fix my hand while he unlocked
the first cuff. Sparks tingled on my skin, my hand trembled slightly.

Why would he
give his word to an officer, to free me? Why even care? He’d do well to stay
behind that door, holding my horrible mother’s hand instead of setting mine
free. With a click, the other cuff came off. I flexed my hands and rubbed my
burning wrists. The shackles had left bright red lines on my skin.

“Better?” He
tilted his head and arched one beautiful brow.

My head bobbed,
but I found no breath to answer.

“Okay then.” He
used my knees to push himself up and stretched to his full height.

He probably
expected a thanks following his selflessness. My gaze focused on the ripped
hems of his jeans, my lips remained sealed.

When he turned
on his heel and marched off to the left, I glanced up. “And now you’re going
where?” The words shot out before I could stop myself.

“Bathroom
break.” His arched brows dared me to object.

My lower lip
threatened to pop from between my teeth as I chewed on it. Don’t speak! “But
you’re supposed to keep an eye on me.”

After studying
me for a couple of seconds, his expression softened even more. “You’re not
going to get me into trouble.”

A balloon of
warmth exploded in my chest. I let him take another stride away from me. Two.
Three. Four. “How can you be so sure?” Shut the hell up, Jona. “After
everything you know about me, I’ll probably be gone when you get back.”

A shrug of one
shoulder and his beguiling smile struck me silent. “I trust you.” A moment
later he disappeared around the corner.

My chin rested
on my chest with no intentions of snapping my mouth shut. Trust me, my arse! He
must be nuts if he thought I could be trusted. With a snort, I rose from the
linoleum floor and strode in the direction of the exit. But I bounced into a
solid wall of bad conscience.

“Dammit.” I
kicked the wall to my right. The rubber-sole of my boot left a black mark on
the white surface. I shouldn’t even have to think about it, so why in the world
did I hesitate? And for a stranger?

The exit had
never looked better, and yet invisible shackles prevented any further step in
its direction. Breathing became increasingly harder, and anger burned like a
flame through me. I didn’t understand this stranger’s inexplicable hold over
me. I shouldn’t waste another thought on him. After all, I didn’t ask him to
remove the handcuffs.

But he took them
off anyway. And he trusted me.

Argh. A growl
rumbled out of my throat. I shot a pissed glance heavenward and raked clawed
fingers through my hair. With a helpless sigh, I returned to the spot where
he’d found me. Standing with my back against the middle column and arms crossed
tightly over my chest, I awaited his return.

Only seconds
later, footfalls announced his approach in the hall behind my back. The steps
slowed, and a hardly audible sigh of dismay drifted around the column to me. I
grinned to myself, savoring this sweet, however short moment of victory. Then I
shoved away from the post.

Relief washed over
his face at the sight of me, the corners of his mouth tilting up. “It’s good to
see you again.”

Blimey, and just
how nice it is to look at your beautiful face. But I steeled my expression and
ground my teeth. I spun on my heel, trudged back toward Abe’s office, intending
to hire Quinn as my bodyguard to keep this goddamn Good Samaritan at arm’s
length.

“Damn you to
hell,” I muttered as I went.

He laughed
behind me. “Oh joy.
”

* * *

Get your copy
of HER GAME, HIS RULES on Amazon.com

A native Austrian,
PIPER SHELLY
always had an unexplainable passion for English. She doesn’t remember the last
book she read in her native language, but she swears it must have been sometime
before her graduation. Always a kid at heart, she loves to travel to enchanted
places like Disneyland or romantic Paris in spring with her husband and son.

Please visit her website at
www.pipershelly.com
or write to
[email protected]

She would love to hear from you!