URGENT (Book 2 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 42: Bad Girls Can't Help Flirting

Mac

The cops aren't too keen on me taking a meeting with Dev in the middle of their business with him, but after a few minutes of wheedling, the desk sergeant takes me back to the arresting officer's desk, because I insist I have a statement to give, too.

Dev is there, holding ice to his mouth, and stoking ice in his eyes, gesturing with irritated shrugs and head jerks as he speaks to the officer. His expressions calm when he sees me walking toward him.

"You're alright, then?" he looks me up and down, as I nod. "That's good. Too bad your boyfriend's a wanker."

"He's not. He's really not. He's just...protective. And he had reason to be."

"Calling bullshit on that one," Dev hisses. "You looked ready to pass out, for Chrissakes. You stumbled. I caught you by the arm to steady you, that's all."

"That's not what I meant." I look at the officer taking his statement. "Look, can we have a minute?" I'm unable to keep the irritation out of my voice, because I keep picturing this jerk twisting Adam's arm painfully behind his back. "In private? This really isn't police business."

He looks at me like I'm insane. He points a finger to his desk. "My desk." Then twirls his finger in the air. "My house. You can have a seat and wait your turn to make a statement."

I turn to Dev and drop all pretense. "Please. Can I have a minute? Please." I'm pleading.

He runs a hand through his black and blue hair as he stares at me impassively, then he turns to the cop. "Look, Officer—" he glances at the guy's deskplate. "Officer Randall, you've been so accommodating already—thanks again for this—" he lifts up the bag of melting ice, then continues "but Ms. Lawson and I are in negotiations to record a song together. I'd like to extend her the professional courtesy of hearing what she has to say. May I impose on your patience and use your break room?" He jerks his head to room enclosed in glass.

Officer Randall rolls his eyes and throws down a pen. "Have at it. I have real work to do, anyway." He turns to his computer monitor and begins typing.

Dev rises, putting a hand to my back, gesturing for me to go first. In the break room, Dev pours a cup of water from the cooler and offers it to me. "Thanks."

"You are quite welcome."

I can't help but smile at Dev's...Britishness. "You are the strangest person I've ever met. A rapper with aristocratic manners?"

"I get arrested a lot. When that happens, I rise to my father's station. Confuses the fuck out of the Bobbies. I guess being in a police station...it's just a force of habit."

"Ah, so the politeness is in your blue-blood. "

He tries to grin and winces, because of his busted lip. "I take it you've been Googling me."

"Yeah, I saw you are aristocracy or something?" I say with a shrug.

He laughs. "Not quite. My father is a baron. My half-brother will be a baron one day. I'm just an illegitimate son my dear old dad managed to conceive with his hotelier's daughter during a Mediterranean holiday."

"Wow. Bet that went over great back home," I smile.

"Wasn't a big deal for him, actually," he shrugged. "Even in modern times...there is noblesse oblige." 

"I have no idea what that means," I laugh and point to myself. "Uncultured American." 

He looks slightly embarrased. "Oh, sorry, it's a bit of an old-fashioned notion. The idea that the noble class has a responsibility to the underpriveleged. It was easily accepted when dear old dad gave me his name, brought my "servant-class"  mother to England, set up her in a nice flat, supported us. Sent me to boarding school, invited me for summer holidays at the country estate. His Baroness even forgave him. Doesn't tolerate me of course, but she despises the moors, so she never goes up there  where I spent time. It was all so politely dealt with, you see. God, they are all insufferable, actually. Even my brother," he laughs. "Honestly, I  started making rhymes to take the  piss out of the whole lot. I quite enjoy being the blue-blooded-rap-bastard."