He seemed ready to say something else but stopped.
Was there any way I could convince him of my beliefs? “Captain, they’re not?—”
“Not what? Not criminals? Is that what you want me to believe?” He dropped his fists to the desk, pounding it once more.
The man sure did enjoy banging his fists and making enough noise to make it sound like a fighting ring in his office.
I almost smiled at the thought.
Delaney’s lips twisted into an expression so vile it took me by surprise.
“You’re out of line, Hart.”
He still refused to call me Detective. “The last transmission suggested you’d gone completely native. You can’t expect me to believe a word out of your mouth when you confessed in front of all of us that you love them.”
The words could not have hurt more if they’d been bullets.
“They’re not drug dealers. They run a Christmas toy drive for underprivileged kids.”
I propped my hands on the edge of his desk.
“Robin Hood bullshit.” Delaney shook his head in a slow wag. “You’ve bought their bullshit rhetoric hook, line, and sinker.”
He waved one hand in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t care if they’re feeding orphans and saving puppies. They’re criminals, and you were supposed to bring them down.”
“I won’t arrest innocent men.”
“Innocent?” He barked out a laugh. “You’ve been compromised. Completely and utterly compromised.”
I’d felt enough shame in the last few days to sink a cruise ship.
I was done with it all, but Captain Delaney had more to say.
“A good detective doesn’t fall in love with her targets.”
I’d let them down.
Fuck Captain Delaney and the whole team of detectives waiting for me to fail.
I didn’t care that I’d failed them.
Not even a little bit.
I’d failed Bishop. Ash. Rafe.
I’d failed them and I couldn’t stand that.
“A good detective doesn’t ignore evidence because they’re prejudiced and want to take down a club based on their emotions. Sounds like some emotional bullshit to me. Sounds like I’m the only one who’s thinking clearly.”
“Watch it.” He pointed at me, that derisive look twisting. “One word from me and I’ll have your badge.”
If he thought that was a threat, then I had the upper hand.
I controlled my breathing and tamped down my anger.
Every part of me wanted to fling my gun and badge on the desk and tell him where he could shove both.
But as long as I stuck around, I had a chance of learning their next steps.
