Drawing The Line by Kimberly Kincaid

had gone down well after the premises had been checked, re-checked, and called secure. She’d felt like an idiot of epic magnitude for the false alarm, but it was nothing compared to the way even benign sounds now sounded amplified and terrifying.
                  It was only a car , and she wasn’t here alone. Plus, Jason had said nothing crazy was going to happen.
                  What’s more, she actually trusted him.  
    By t he time Serenity had removed the cherry-printed half-apron knotted tightly around her waist and grabbed a meat cleaver because, hey, a girl could never be too safe, Detective Blackwell had all-cleared the incoming vehicle as Jason’s Tahoe. But rather than calming her down, the information only ratcheted her heartbeat into hyperdrive. She had no clue how long arraignments were supposed to last, but oh God, was it supposed to have been so fast?
    The even cadence of Jason’s footfalls took an absolute lifetime as he shoulder ed past the front door and into the foyer, and damn it, his face showed nothing more than his classically handsome good looks. He and Detective Blackwell exchanged a brief check-in before the detective uttered a polite goodbye and disappeared into the kitchen, the solid clap of the back door the only break in the deafening silence.
                  “Well?” Serenity asked, trying supremely hard not to jump out of her skin as she made one last effort to read Jason’s face. “What happened?”
    “The arraignment was fairly standard,” Jason said, his eyes sweeping the living room in that same ingrained manner she’d grown accustomed to over the last few days. “The DA asked for Brody to be remanded, just like we discussed, and his lawyer fought it, just like we expected.”
                  “And?” 
                  A muscle twitched along Jason’s jawline. “The judge granted him bail, Serenity. He posted it twenty minutes after the hearing was over.”
                  Serenity’s breath kicked from her lungs on a hard whoosh of disbelief. “But he stabbed Colin and attacked me in my own diner! How could the judge grant him bail? I saw him!”
                  “Yes, but your testimony can’t be admitted until the trial,” Jason said, so calm and matter-of-fact she was sure she’d scream. “The DA did her best, but Brody’s slick. He’s never been arrested for anything where the charges stuck, and he runs several high-profile businesses in Brentsville, all of which are legitimate on paper. The judge had no choice but to consider that.”
    “So that’s it?” Serenity’s knees responded with a hard wobble, and she reached out to grasp the armchair in front of her in a flimsy effort to restore her balance. “He’s just… free ?”
                  Jason stepped in, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body on her flour-smudged arm, and the near contact sent an odd shot of comfort through her before he stiffened and pulled back. “Brody’s not in jail, but he’s not exactly free, either. First of all, the judge hit him with the maximum amount for bail, which shows the charge is being taken seriously. And now that he’s been formally charged, we have some leeway to investigate him more aggressively than before. If the guy so much as orders a hamburger, our vice squad is going to know if he wants pickles and mustard on it. And trust me, they want to nail him as badly as we do.”
                  Okay, but… “So I’m stuck here until the trial.”
                  The hitch of Jason’s shoulders beneath his suit jacket gave her all the answer she needed. “Yes.”
                  She grabbed for a deep breath, some last-resort Zen from her mother’s favorite yoga instructor— anything that would keep her frustration at a manageable level— but it was a complete and utter no-go. “And when is