I slowly started to wake up when I heard someone knocking loudly at the door. It also didn't hurt that they were shouting something along with their jackhammer sounding knocks. I tried my best to focus on their words, but before laying down I had taken a prescription sleeping pill to go along with my pain killer to force myself to sleep, so I was having to really fight to become more alert. I had done it a couple of times when my eyebrow was aching so badly that I couldn't get comfortable enough to rest properly, so I wasn't concerned about any negative repercussions from mixing my medications.

I must have been moving too slowly for my visitor's liking because when I finally had my eyes open my room was full of people. At the front of the crowd was an African-American woman in a skirt suit who looked like she was giving orders to the Sheriff's Deputies who had followed her into the bedroom. I didn't recognize anyone in uniform, but then again, I wasn't anywhere close to being awake, so that could be the reason for that.

As I started to rub the sleep out of my eyes, I heard an unfamiliar voice snap out, "Get her out of bed, Deputy. I don't have all day."

Of course, I hadn't put two and two together to understand that the 'her' in her angry order was me. That meant that when the Deputy grabbed my arm to 'help' me out of bed, I tried to pull my arm away and cussed him out instead of just going with him like I normally would have.

"Fuck. Give me a fucking second to wake up, Asshole."

Close to the door there were a couple of chuckles, but the noises I heard from the people closest to me told me that they weren't impressed or amused by my insolence. So, they ignored the expletive filled request and this time it was two officers that forced me out of bed. They each grabbed an arm and practically dragged me off the mattress. Once I was on my feet, someone threw a glass of water in my face.

"The fuck...?" I shouted as I tried to wipe the excess liquid off my face. Well, tried isn't really the right word because each of my arms was being held in the vise like grip of the two deputies, so they didn't actually move at all.

"Such language," the boss woman commented as she threw a towel over my head to dry my face. When she was done, I knew I was glaring at her, but she really didn't seem to care at all. "There, that's better. Are you more alert, Ms. Lowman?"

I don't know what I did or how my face changed, but the deputies' already firm grip tightened to an uncomfortable degree around my arms. Even though I should have remembered that it would be futile, I still tried to struggle out of the men's hold before I growled and replied, "I'm not supposed to get my stitches wet! If I get an infection, it'll be coming out of your ass."

She scoffed loudly then said, "You'll be fine. And look, now you're awake, so it did the trick." I continued to glare at her while she spoke as if we were old friends having a casual conversation "Now, Ms. Lowman, do you know what this is?"

I moved my eyes to look at her hands and then back up to her face. "A piece of paper?"

"Very good," she replied in a tone reminiscent of an adult talking down to a child that they thought was too dumb to grasp what they were being told. "But it isn't just any old paper. No, this is a magic paper that…"

"I'll take that," Ally Lowen called out as she plucked the paper out of the other woman's hand. She unfolded it and read it over quickly. As she read it, she cursed out a soft 'Shit!' to herself and then she looked up and asked, "You can't be serious."

My new least favorite person on the planet smiled at our lawyer and answered, "You bet your ass I am. Now, if you'll step aside?"

Lowen turned to me and whispered, "Whatever happens, don't fight them, Mia. And don't say a word until I'm back with you."

"What…? Why…?" I questioned as my sleep addled brain tried to catch up with everything the club's lawyer was saying to me.

"Please step aside, Ms. Lowen," District Attorney Patterson repeated as a firm instruction before she stepped in front of me. She briefly turned her attention to the men on either side of me and simply said, "Deputies."

They each pulled the arm they were holding behind my back. I didn't take note of what was happening until I felt the cold steel of the first hand cuff touch my left wrist. I whipped my head around in an attempt to see what was happening as I tried to wrench my arms out of their hold. They didn't pay me any attention as I frantically tried out, "What the fuck are you doing? What's happening? Ally…? ALLY!"

The DA moved in front of me so that she took up my whole field of vision. She just stood there, staring me down with a bored look on her face until I finally fell silent. She waited a couple of breaths to make sure that I wouldn't start screaming again before she very calmly recited, "Maria Anastasia Lowman, you are under arrest for the first-degree murder of Patrick Ryan Telford…"

"WHAT?! NO! No, it was self-defense!" I screamed out to try to interrupt her.

But I couldn't throw her off and she continued as if I hadn't spoken at all. "You have the right to remain silent…" She gave me a pointed look then with one well coifed eyebrow raised. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you." She paused again and made very direct eye contact with me. "Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, so I whispered, "Yes, Ma'am."

She nodded then her facial expression softened ever so slightly as she finished, "With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?"

A thousand different thoughts ran through my head at that question. They were joined by a few choice words, but I managed to keep them all to myself and not even utter a sound. What had Lowen said to me? Keep my mouth shut until she was with me, right? Right… Behave myself while she works to figure this shit out.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head as my only response.

A warm smile spread across the DA's face as she quietly stated, "Very good. Alright Deputy, if you would please escort Ms. Lowman out to your vehicle."

"Yes, Ma'am," he stated as he pushed on my cuffed wrists to coax my feet to start moving.

As they escorted me out of the room, we passed by Ally Lowen and she quietly called out, "Remember, say nothing until I'm with you at the station. Understood?" I opened my mouth to reply, but she quickly added, "NOT A SINGLE WORD!"

Tears started to blur my vision, but I still kept my lips pressed tightly together as I simply nodded. She tried to give me an encouraging smile then she said, "Good. Stay strong. I'll get you through this."

We continued through the clubhouse and I gasped in a surprised breath at the sight before me. There was a sea of brown and blue uniforms that had formed a wall to hold back everyone that was finding a safe haven at the clubhouse right now. A couple of deputies were having to physically restrain Gemma and Tig while the other men and women of the club were either standing with their backs pressed up against the wall or were seated with their hands under their thighs.

When my eyes locked with Gemma's, she stopped struggling against the hold the two deputies had on her arms. "Mia! Baby Girl! You stay strong. We will do everything in our power to get you out of this."

We didn't slow down, so I had no chance to respond to her words. Not that I would have said anything, even if I was given the opportunity to do so. Lowen said that I needed to keep my mouth shut, so that's what I was going to do. I was the master of giving people the silent treatment and that's all that I had to focus on doing right now.

"Watch your head," the deputy barked out as he pushed my head down to get me into the back of his car.

Once he had the door closed, he seemed to take his time walking to the driver's seat. I tried to look out the back window to see what was happening back at the clubhouse, but I think it would take someone with the talents of a contortionist to be able to move their body so that they could complete that feat.

There was zero conversation between the deputy and I during the ride to the station. That was fine with me because it helped me with the whole shutting the hell up without my lawyer present and not telling anyone in authority something that would put another nail into my coffin. Plus, my thoughts were running too wild for me to focus on anything but trying to keep my tears from falling. I really didn't want to give the DA the satisfaction of seeing me cry because of her. But more importantly, I didn't want to get my stitches wet. After what had been done to me, I really didn't want an infection to complicate the healing process at all.

When we made it to the station, Deputy Stern Face (I had never met him before, so I didn't know his real name, but I wanted to be able to call him something I mentally cussed him out) practically dragged me out of the back of the car. I don't know if you've ever tried to do everyday tasks like sitting down or getting out of a car without the use of your hands or arms, but it's definitely a hell of a lot harder to do without them. Now I completely understood why prisoners were cuffed this way once they were in custody. But Deputy Douche (yeah, his name changed in my mind because of how he was acting) seemed to have forgotten that I was restrained and therefore couldn't do much to assist my leaving his vehicle.

As soon as I was on my feet, he slammed the car door shut and shoved me towards a door at the other end of the room. I guess I wasn't moving fast enough for him because he shoved me again while I was mid-step. This time it was so hard that I stumbled and almost fell. I glared at him as I found my footing once again, but I thankfully kept my colorful commentary to myself.

He snorted in a laugh and sounded like he had been reading my mind when he asked, "You got something to say about that, killer?"

I turned my eyes to my feet because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how upset I was with him, his behavior and the names he called me. But that back-fired slightly. He let out another chuckle then very condescendingly added just over a whisper, "Yeah, I didn't fucking think so. You just keep your pretty, whore mouth shut until one of us needs you to suck us clean."

His comments were so out of the blue and shocking that my head shot up so that I could see his face to try to gauge how serious he was about that… chore. He cocked a questioning brow as if to challenge me to say something churlish to back talk him. I honestly couldn't believe he would say something so disgusting and crass to someone he didn't know and I found that I couldn't form a proper reply in my head let alone out loud.

He just sneered at me and opened his mouth to say something else, but he was kept silent by Lieutenant Roosevelt calling out, "Deputy Bird? I didn't know you had an in custody. Who…?" The rest of Eli's question trailed off when the deputy took a large step to one side as his way of answering the Lieutenant's question. "Mia? What the hell? Who…? Who authorized this arrest?"

"I did," the DA answered as she stepped into the hallway where we were all now standing. "Deputy Bird, thank you for your work, but Deputy Menottes will take it from here."

"Like hell she will," Eli snapped out. "Patterson, can I talk to you in my office?"

"Of course, you may," she answered with a pleasant smile. "Let me just make sure the prisoner is properly processed and then I'll meet you there."

"Tyne, you can't do this," Roosevelt countered in a low tone as he took a couple of steps to stand at her side. "Can't we talk about this first?"

"No, Lieutenant, we can't." The DA then turned her attention to the female Sheriff's Deputy who was standing behind me with an hand on my cuffed hands. "Deputy? If you'll follow me to the Booking Counter?"

Deputy Menottes gently pushed on the small of my back and kept her hand there to help keep me steady as I walked to our new destination. I couldn't tell if she was doing it to be nice or if she was just more professional than Deputy Douche (yes, I had heard his real name, but I like the one I had given him better).

Once we made it to the door to the Booking Room, the DA paused and turned to call out to the Lieutenant, "Eli, you're too close to this one. It wasn't a mistake that you weren't invited to join us to arrest Ms. Lowman tonight."

From there the DA remained a silent observer as the Deputy undid my cuffs and placed my hands on the stainless steel of the counter top. She kicked at each of my feet to get me to widen my stance then asked, "Are you carrying anything I should know about? Any weapons? Syringes? Any other sharp objects?"

I shook my head as I took in a deep breath and tried not to let it turn into a sob.

"I need a verbal reply."

I continued to shake my head as I quietly answered, "No, Ma'am. I have nothing on me."

When they came to the club house, I had been fast asleep, so I was standing in the Sheriff's Department in a skin tight, faded black t-shirt with a white logo that was nearly non-existent that was paired with some oversized black and white checkered lounge pants that had no pockets. Patterson had allowed me the small courtesy of slipping on a pair of sneakers that Gemma had packed for me, but other than that I looked like I had just gotten out of bed, which made sense because I had. I don't know about you, but other than the odd cuddle buddy, I really don't take anything to bed with me, especially anything weapon shaped.

Deputy Menottes gave me a very thorough pat-down that caused me to start breathing through my mouth. So far that breathing technique worked to keep my tears at bay, but I wasn't sure how much longer that would hold true.

"Alright, Lowman, please step back against the wall and hold this to your chest," Menottes instructed in a neutral tone.

I took the black plaque she was passing to me without hesitation. Once I had it in my hands, she placed her hands on my shoulders and carefully moved me into place. Remember picture day at school during your elementary years? You'd put on your favorite new outfit and some wannabe photographer would turn your head this way and that until he could snap the perfect photo of you, even though the photos always sucked? This was kind of like that, except that Deputy Menottes only cared that I was standing up straight so that my height would be accurately captured against the chart stenciled on the wall.

While she moved behind the camera, I looked down at the plaque I was holding and let out a tear-filled laugh.

"Something funny, Lowman?" She asked sounding completely distracted as she adjusted something on the camera.

"I'm sorry," I apologized trying to sound as sincere as possible. "It's just… This actually happens? I thought everything they show on TV is total bullshit."

"No," she replied solemnly. She seemed to realize how grave she sounded because she smiled softly then said with a lighter tone, "No, this one they get right. Now after we're done here, I'll take you to get fingerprinted."

"Fingerprints," I commented to myself with a soft sob.

She moved from behind the camera so that I couldn't see her when she answered, "Sorry, it's all part of the process."

I hadn't noticed that I had started slumping in my spot while I stared at my hands. The deputy remained beside the camera as she watched me and mentally willed me to get back into the place where she had put me in previously.

"Mia…?"

My head shot up when I heard her use my name, but I didn't get a chance to ask her why she had called it out. No, the DA, the Destroyer Absolute, barged in then and ruined our friendly moment.

"Deputy! How are you not finished in here yet?"

My breathing quickened even though I wanted to remain calm. Thankfully, I wasn't the object of her wrath right now. No, that dubious honor went to the Deputy who had been nothing but nice to me. But I couldn't do anything to intercede on her behalf because I had to remember not to speak in front of Patterson.

"Well? I asked you a question, Deputy Menottes. Why aren't you finished processing the prisoner?"

Menottes didn't miss a beat as she answered, "It's this stupid camera, Ma'am. I swear it has a mind of its own."

"Excuse me? I thought the Department was outfitted with some new state of the art technology."

"Some," the deputy explained. "LT decided we're going to start with digital fingerprints because most of the guys get antsy with ink prints. But they don't seem to mind posing for the camera."

"It's called 'peacocking', Menottes. How much longer do you think it will be?"

The deputy shrugged then answered, "As fast as the camera will allow me to go."

Patterson didn't hide her impatience in her voice as she urged, "Go as fast as you can, our... guest has visitors."

I perked up slightly but the deputy pretended like she didn't notice my movement as she asked in a bored voice, "Already?"

"Yes. And one of them is her lawyer, so hurry it up. I'll try to keep her occupied."

"Alright. I'll try to get Bertha to behave."

Patterson stopped at the door and turned to say, "I know we're working in a man's world, but we don't always have to stoop to their level, Deputy."

"Right... of course not. Just a bad habit, Ma'am."

Once the DA had the door closed again, the deputy rolled her eyes then grumbled quietly to herself, "Or you could just perch on this tripod and..."

Me laughing silenced the rest of that suggestion. We shared a look and then she said, "FYI, not everyone is a fan of what she's doing. I was hoping to make all of this as easy as possible on you."

"Really?" I questioned in genuine confusion. "But why? Why would you care what happens to me?"

She nodded towards the wall, so I stood up against it like she had instructed me to before Patterson entered the room. There were four quick, consecutive clicks that sounded from the camera as soon as I was in position. I just stood there in stunned amazement while I waited for her next instructions.

She just stared at me for a second like she couldn't understand why I had asked my question before she let out a nervous laugh and explained, "Wow. I guess you really don't remember me. Not that you should given what you... Anyway, I was at the scene... at your..." She used her right index finger to swipe down her left cheek to mirror my stitched wound. "I was called to take photos of the crime scene, including your attacker's bag of weapons and pharmaceuticals."

"My attacker? Does that mean...?"

"The fact that she's trying to classify it as anything but self-defense make me sick to my stomach." I just stared at her dumbly causing her to laugh. "You have a lot of friends here, Ms. Lowman. Anyone who was at your house knows how brutal your assault was and how hard you had to fight to live through it. Most of us commend and don't condemn what you did, Ms..."

"Mia. If you truly are my friend, you can call me Mia, Deputy Menottes."

She smiled a lot easier as she replied, "Only if you call me Anne-Marie or Annie."

"Alright, Annie. So? What's next?"

"The light in her eyes dimmed as she answered, "I take you to a private interview room to talk with your lawyers. When you're done with her, you go to a holding cell. I'm sorry."

I shook my head to stop her there and said, "Please don't apologize. You're just doing your job. I know this isn't your fault."

"I know, but..."

"Seriously, if you keep it up, I'll start crying."

She passed me a tissue then sternly replied, "And we can't have that, Ms. Lowman."

I laughed at her joke and she looked much more at ease.