Cherie Noir’s POV At The Street Outside Her Apartment
“FREEZE!”
Lights. Sirens. That blinding flash of red and blue slammed into my face like a punch.
I spun around too late.
“Hands where I can see them!”
Boots thundered. Shadows lunged. Cold metal slammed me down, cheek grinding against pavement, my jaw bruising fast. Knees dug into my spine.
“You’re under arrest.”
“Eat s**t,” I snarled.
A cop grunted and twisted the cuffs tighter. I hissed. “Someone’s got mommy issues.”
“Put your hands where I can see them!”
I didn’t move.
I didn’t flinch.
Even when the cop shoved my head against the pavement, I didn’t blink.
I’d known this was coming.
“Dumb b***h,” I muttered, tasting rust. “Should’ve slit her throat.”
The cuffs clicked tight around my wrists. Cold. Metal. Familiar.
“Yo
