Lucian said. The state patrol officer mustered enough energy to give him a smile that said he’d never heard that one before, and then he went back to writing in his notebook. Lucian had been in the backseat of a police car before, but never in this situation, and definitely not when the need to see Cassandra burned into his brain like a fire, not when he was so fucking concerned for her he thought he might come out of his skin. Not that the officer noticed or cared. He had probably heard that excuse, or some variation of it, a thousand times before, but Lucian knew that wasn’t the sum of it. Lucian had been speeding, the conversation with Adam having made his normally heavy foot even heavier, but nothing so bad as to warrant such an over-the-top reaction. A leftover of Damien’s notoriety, and by extension, Silver Industries’. “Lots of paperwork on this one. Your lucky day, I guess,”
