JAMES’ POV

The cold metal of the police van door slammed shut behind me with a loud clang that echoed in my ears long after the sound faded. That single noise felt like the final confirmation that everything had gone wrong. My wrists were still sore from the handcuffs, the metal biting into my skin as the officers escorted me through the station like I was some kind of dangerous criminal.

Which, I guess, I was.

“Move,” one of the officers said again, pushing me forward when I slowed down.

I clenched my jaw but said nothing. At this point, there was no pride left for me to hold on...