The Devil Among Us, Ramsay Sinclair [black books to read .txt] 📗

too much to drink.” I rose towards him in a non-combative manner. “Go and sit down somewhere, eh?” Without being overly aggressive in the slightest, I pointed towards the lavishly decorated tables that were now full of handbags, bottles and people’s coats over the chairs.

The officer stumbled, swearing twice over. “Don’t tell me what to do, mate.” His accent wasn’t from here, it suggested hints of an English twang. Cockney, to be specific.

“I’m not your mate,” I chuckled at the audacity he had. He’d regret all of this by the time he had sobered up and realised who he was trying to square up to. “It’s DI Cooper to you.”

Before anyone really understood what was happening or had time to react, the idiot had swung for me. For a disorientated man, he had an excellent sense of aim. There was a deafening crack, and my entire jaw went numb.

“Jesus Christ,” I stepped back, feeling a layer of blood trickle down my bare neck. A decorative ring was on the officer’s middle finger, and it had inflicted a nasty nick.

“Finlay!” Abbey sounded audibly shocked as I stumbled blindly up to my feet. The crowd were stunned into silence at the sight of the hostile interaction. It wasn’t the sort of resolution I’d expected from this gala, that was for sure.

“I’m fine,” I promised, clutching my jaw. By opening and closing my mouth tenderly, it slowly began to loosen back up. “See?” I turned around to convince Abbey that everything was alright.

A heavy thwack sent me reeling and left me winded from the second hit. The officer had attacked when my back was turned. It was embarrassing, to say the least, to have dozens of spectators witness the pummeling. The pain wasn’t even that bad, but my ego was bruised.

“That’s enough,” I heard a gruff tone order, whilst a delicate touch rushed to my aid. Tony had grabbed a hold of the drunken officer to escort him out of the venue and the superintendent followed them grimly. I wouldn’t like to be in the constable’s shoes, even if I was the one with a cut on my face.

The rest of our CID team were the first ones to offer assistance. Rebecca located a tissue to dab the blood with, and Cillian continually asked if I was alright. No matter how much I assured them I was alright, they had a hard time believing it. The questions came at once, a torrent of voices.

Rebecca indignantly stuck up for me. “What an idiot. Tony’s making sure he doesn’t try to get back in here. He’d better get some sort of punishment for that, or I’d do it myself.”

“The super didn’t exactly look thrilled.” I shrugged, embarrassed at all the unnecessary attention.

“What he needed was a strong uppercut back,” Cillian began to demonstrate, nearly accidentally hitting Rebecca. She scoffed and purposely stepped sideways and out of harm's way. I steadily tried to move away from the middle of the dancefloor and over to the sidelines.

“Retaliation doesn’t work like that, Cillian. That would’ve made it worse. Especially since he was nearly blackout drunk, one hit could've done a lot more damage than he inflicted upon me.”

Cillian pondered and reconsidered his boyish approach. Although they were doing their best to help, their company felt more like a hindrance. Abbey noticed and politely told them so.

“Thank you,” Abbey thanked the two of them. “I’ve got it from here, you know he doesn’t like to make a fuss.” She was right about that. Having the team not only see their DI dancing but also getting a hefty hit from a constable would only give them more ammunition for their fond jokes.

“I can’t believe it,” Abbey fumed at the sight of me. It was adorable actually, seeing her trying to tend to the cut. She led us over to the bar where people gave up their seats so we could sit and the pop-up bartender handed us a cloth and some ice. “Finlay, it doesn’t look great. You’ve got blood on your shirt.”

“Luckily, the shirt is expendable then,” I grunted and averted the stares we were getting from various people.

“Sorry, folks,” DCI Reid apologized over the microphone to simmer the people down again. “I apologise for the interruption. Now that’s over with, please continue to enjoy the night. Let’s not act like we’re in a brewery. This is a respectable occasion.” he sternly advised and left the microphone there. The speech was definitely finished after that blow-up.

It didn’t take long for DCI Reid and Iona to come rushing down from the stage to check on us all.

“Oh, are you alright?” Iona flushed, flapping like a hectic mother would. She’d found some more ice and handed them to Abbey, in hopes of mopping up the few open cuts.

“I’m perfectly fine,” I assured and shivered from the ice. Abbey tutted at my denial and dabbed at the cuts. “Nothing more than a drunk guy. He won’t remember by tomorrow.”

“That was quite a left hook he’s got there, Cooper.” DCI Reid sounded weirdly impressed, the last person I would have chosen to speak to when injured. Abbey stayed silent but smiled politely at the couple. Even though I was injured, my original approach to gaining a confession from him hadn’t changed or wavered. The betrayal stung more than the cuts.

“That’s a nasty cut there,” Iona checked out my chin gingerly. “My husband’s grateful you defended his honour, even if hasn’t said so himself.”

If only they knew I couldn’t give two craps about his honour. He’d ruined that of his own accord.

“Hey, give me a chance,” DCI Reid defended. “Thank you, Cooper.” He held out a handshake for me to take. Fate was punishing me for something, it had to be. What did I do in a past life to shake hands with the man I despised most? “Drunken people like them always know how to ruin a party.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s ruined, Guv.” My tone sounded thick, and I struggled to affectionately use