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Subject: Chapter 87

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Date Posted: 09:35:01 06/08/06 Thu

Chapter 87

The police department, housed in a small, metal building, sat in the center of town.

“Step out of the car.”

Niki followed the officer’s orders, no longer bothering to protest her innocence. What was the use? What chance did she have against the powerful Michael Samisen? What chance had she ever had? Her father had crushed her father, and Michael would crush her.

Processing turned out to be a humiliating ordeal. When it was finally over, she followed the stocky, arresting officer to lock-up.

“Might as well make yourself at home. You’re going to be here for a while.”

The man delivered the news with a profound sense of relish. Nice to see someone enjoying their work. He watched her for a reaction and she smugly denied him the satisfaction.

“Sweet dreams, honey. Hope you aren’t scared of the dark.”

His footsteps echoed down the short hall, and at the flick of his finger, the light vanished.

She sat, knees tight against her chest, on the bare mattress. Never had she felt so abandoned or alone. Would Michael really leave her there all night? Yes. Of course, he would. He’d put her there hadn’t he?

She’d denied the charge of theft, but the sheriff said there’d been a witness. Michael. Who else could have accused her by name? The absolute certainty of that assumption filled her with sadness. She was used to hating him, but was unaccustomed to the idea of him hating her back. Was that selfish? Right now, she didn’t care. She just wanted out.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

Michael plopped down across the Ralph Lauren coverlet, knocking one of the decorator pillows off the bed. He had expected to be here with Niki. Nothing was going as he had planned.

At the time, using the law to foil her escape had seemed to be a good idea. Now that it was over however, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe jail wasn’t the safest place for a woman to be.

Still, he did want to teach him a lesson. Only the sword seemed to have a double edge. That was a fact he hadn’t counted on.

♣ ♣ ♣ ♣ ♣

Niki awoke to a fierce headache from her cramped position and a sound she couldn’t identify. The room was still dark, and she wondered how long she’d been asleep. Reaching upward, she arched her back to stretch and winced at the pain shooting down her right arm. Damn jail. Damn Michael.

Again, she heard the odd sound and shuddered at the possibility of rats. Why had he allowed her to stay in such a place? This was all his fault.

All right. Maybe she shouldn’t have run away or pretended to have been abducted, but someone had to make him pay. Someone had to stand up to the Michael Samisen’s of the world.

The sound moved closer – a tiny scratching that planted pictures of dark, sleek bodies with gnashing teeth clawing their way to her bunk. She hugged her legs tighter and let out an involuntary yelp.

Immediately, the door swung open as if someone had heard her cry for help.


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