Play With Me

warden
squealed something hysterical and slapped his hands away.
    With all the
confusion in the room, I saw my chance of escape. However, my freedom was short
lived. The moment I started for the exit, Riley’s tall partner caught my wrist
and swung me around. The momentum tossed me against the edge of a small, dark
brown desk in the back corner of the room.
    In self-defense,
I leaned back on the desk and pulled my legs to my chest as the policeman came
for me. My hard kick hit his chest, and the soles of my boots popped a wheeze
out of the cop. The deputy careened backward, doubled over. When he caught his
breath, he cursed in a tongue that would’ve made Debby Westwood, the uncrowned
queen of swearing, go green with envy.
    I shoved away
from the desk, but my chance of flight was gone as the door flung open and two
guards stormed in. Whether it was Riley’s screams, Miss Mulligan’s screeches,
or a secret button under Abe’s desk that alerted the guards, I never knew. But
they had my shoulders pinned to the floor before my next breath. All air
escaped from my lungs. A flash of pain soared through my upper body.
    “No!” two men in
the room shouted at once. I recognized one of them as belonging to Quinn. His
voice was edged with sheer horror. In this moment, I was grateful he didn’t
abandon me like so many others.
    Whoever the
other worried guy was, I couldn’t tell.
    One guard pulled
handcuffs from his belt. He fastened them around my wrists in front of me.
Neither my kicking nor shrieking could prevent the awful click when the locks
snapped into place.
    “Get off her,
you idiots. She’s only a kid.” Quinn elbowed his way through to me. “Are you
all right, kiddo?”
    The pain in my
chest and back eased. I could finally draw in air. “Wow, what a fight.” It
didn’t feel like anything was seriously injured or broken, so I pressed my lips
together and gave Quinn a halfhearted nod. “I’m fine.”
    I had to be. No
weakness. Ever. 
    He wrapped his
fingers around my upper arms, pulling me to a wobbly stand. “In God’s name,
Jona,” he whispered. “I beg you, behave.”
    A deep growl
preceded my answer. “As you wish, Sir.” What other choice did I have with the
cuffs on?
    From the corner
of my eye, I caught a glimpse of my mother’s companion. The fair-haired god
studied me with narrowed eyes. Trying to figure me out? That made me very
uncomfortable.
    With a gentle
tug, Quinn led me up to Abe’s desk. I turned my head to hold the blond stranger’s
stare for another moment. His arm wrapped in a supporting way around my
mother’s shoulders. A god in his early twenties and Charlene? Where in the
world would a bony bitch like her find a lover so close to my age—and this
gorgeous to boot?
    “Jona Montiniere!”
The murmurs in the room ebbed with Abe’s thundering. My head snapped toward
him. Nerves steeling for what was to follow, I quickly rebuilt my mental wall
of protection. He had risen from his chair and braced himself on the desk,
glaring at me over the rims of his spectacles. “This time, you stepped over the
line. Contempt of court. Assaulting an officer.”
    “What? They
assaulted me first!” My shout echoed in the room no less angry than his. “Riley
here should be sued for child abuse.”
    “Enough!” Abe
roared. “Shut your mouth and sit down.”
    “Sit down?” My
dramatic glance behind me was enough to point out there was nothing but the
floor to sit on.
    Abe rubbed his
temples. “For heaven’s sake, someone fetch a chair for the girl.” The words
left his mouth in a broken sigh.
    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