The Divorced Heiress Is Entering a New Marriage

26 BONUS

Frank paid for me to fill up the gas tank of my car, then we drove back to his house. Tammy was outside of the house now, and they both insisted on hugging me goodbye. While I was hugging Frank, he slipped a wad of cash into my pocket.

Immediately, I pulled away to give it back to him.

“Keep it,” he insisted. “You’ll need it in case something happens.”

“But I can’t..”

“You must,” Frank said. “We’re family. Looking out for each other is what family do.”

With this insistence, I put the cash back into my pocket.

Tammy approached me next. She placed her hands on my shoulders and smiled at me.

“Mr. Hatfield is a terrifying man. Sometimes his reach feels impossibly long.” Tammy said. “But you must remember, that he is just a man. If you love my son, which I know you do, you must never give up on him.”

“I won’t,” I said. “I don’t care who I have to fight of for how long. I’ll never give up on Logan.”

He was the man I had chosen to love, and our relationship was worth fighting for. I wasn’t going to let anyone, even someone as powerful as Mr. Hatfield Sr., get in the way of that.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Tammy said. “Hold onto that strength, and you will be fine.”

The Christopher’s knew the full extent of Mr. Hatfield Sr.’s wrath. They’d experienced it themselves first hand. If they believed Logan and I could defy all odds than who was I to go against them.

After one last quick hug to each of them, I got in my car and drove back to my apartment to pack. There, texted Logan, letting him know that I was almost ready to go.

I grabbed only a few items, a couple days‘ worth of clothes, and my toiletries, then hurried out the door. I was probably forgetting things, but I was too eager to get back home. Whatever I needed that I forgot, I could always just rebuy when I got there.

Pulling out onto the highway, my phone began to ring. I answered, and Dylan’s voice immediately filled the speakers of my car.

“God, what a clusterfuck,” he said sans a greeting.

“Hello to you too,” I said.

“You okay? You almost here?”

“I just left. Will be some time yet.”

Dylan sighed, cursing under his breath.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

o

I

“Logan’s grandfather is on the warpath, that’s what. Logan told me about your credit card situation. I’ve been trying to work that out all morning, but Senior isn’t making this easy. And I’m worried this is only the start of your troubles.”

I could only Imagine. What was next? My credit report? Or maybe he’d jump straight to smearing me in the tabloids.

I’m serious, Hazel. Don’t do a single thing wrong on your drive here. Don’t even go over the speed limit,” Dylan said.

“What are you saying?” Surely Mr. Hatfield’s Influence wouldn’t extend all the way into the police force? Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“Money corrupts, Hazel. Drive the speed limit.”

“I am. I am,” I said.

I was driving the speed limit, maybe one mile over. That was enough, I guessed. Instantly, flashing lights flickered in my rear–view mirror.

“Oh, shit,” I said.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m getting pulled over.”

“Shit,” Dylan cursed. “Don’t hang up, Hazel. I’m going to record.”

“Okay,” I said. I’d faced down lawyers with only limited fear, but this felt infinitely worse, I didn’t want to believe in corrupt law enforcement, but with Mr. Hatfield Senior’s money and influence, anything felt possible.

I pulled the car over to the curb and then put it in park. As the policeman approached, I kept my hands on the wheel at ten and two, just like I’d been taught.

The policeman knocked his knuckles against the windshield.

I rolled it down an inch,

“License,” he said. I couldn’t make out much of his face from his bulky sunglasses and bulky mustache.

I reached for my purse and withdrew my license. I hadn’t it to him through the crack in the window.

“Hazel Whitaker. We’ve been looking for you,” he said.

“You have?” I asked.

“We need to bring you in,” he said.

“In where?” I asked.

“Jail, what the hell do you think?” he said. He placed his hand on the gun at his waist. “Get out of the car, Miss Whitaker. Don’t make a scene.”

I tried to remember my rights. “What am I being charged with?”

“Get out of the fucking car right now,” he snapped.

“Comply, Hazel,” came Dylan’s voice through the speakers. “I’m on my way.”

“Who the hell was that?” the officer asked.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I opened my door. The minute it was clear, the officer reached inside, grabbed me and yanked me out. He turned me around, shoving me up against the side of the car.

“Hands behind your back,” he said.

I complied again and he put me in handcuffs. Roughly he hauled me back to the police car and threw me in the backseat.

“I don’t understand,” I said, again and again, partially in shock. How could this be happening? I’ve never broken the law. This had to be a misunderstanding.

The officer entered the vehicle and pulled away. My car was left sitting there on the side of the road, the door still open, the engine still on.

They called it belligerence and resisting a police officer

I didn’t remember it that way, but that didn’t seem to matter. I found myself in a jail cell either way. It was

a holding tank meant for people to wait in while they are being processed in the system.

Right now, it was fully of drunks and sex workers. I felt distinctly out of place.

“What are you in for, honey?” one man asked, sliding up close to me.

I inched away. “I don’t know,” I admitted.

Everyone in the room laughed.

“Me either!” someone cheered.

“None of us know!”

“Let us out! Let us out!”

“Shut up in there,” shouted one of the officers watching us,

I wrapped my arms around myself, wondering how long it would take Dylan to come find me. To comfort my fraying nerves, I tried to think of him and Logan bursting down the cell door and demanding I be released.

I knew in reality, things weren’t that nice.

I still couldn’t believe this was happening. Maybe it wasn’t corruption. Maybe Mr. Hatfield had put out a false report on me and the police were taking action.

In the end, I guessed it didn’t matter all that much to me. I was still here in this holding cell all the same. Time ticked by. There wasn’t a clock in here, so I had no idea how long I’d been there. Ten minutes, an hour, several hours.

I wanted to go home now more than ever. I kind of wanted to give up.

But then, realizing it, I steeled my resolve. It had always been Mr. Hatfield’s plan to frighten me into leaving his son

I wasn’t going to let that happen.

Yes, I was frightened and cold and God knew how this would turn out.

Chapter 0294.

But I wasn’t going to give up.

“Miss Whitaker,” an officer called, and I jumped straight onto my feet.

God, what now?