Marcus.
She means Marcus.
The whole reason I joined the force.
The whole reason I’m undercover in the first place.
But when I try to picture my brother’s face, it’s Sin’s eyes I see instead.
“I remember,” I whisper.
“Then prove it. Get me evidence.Realevidence. Something that will make Rourke back off and justify this operation.” Moretti walks to the door and opens it. “And Detective? Don’t take too long. We’re running out of time and patience.”
I stand on shaky legs. As I pass her, Moretti touches my arm briefly. “Whatever connection youthinkyou have with them, it’snotreal. It’s your cover. Don’t lose sight of that.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
But as I walk out, down the sterile hallways, past the desk sergeant, I know Moretti is wrong.
What I feel isreal.
Too real.
The parking lot air hits my face like a wake-up call. I lean against my car, hands braced on the hood, trying to breathe through the panic constricting my chest.
I’m failing at my job.
Protecting people I’m supposed to investigate.
Lying to my superior.
Crossing every ethical line.
And the worst part?I’m not sure I care anymore.
I slide into my car, gripping the steering wheel with both hands so hard my knuckles turn white. The weight of it all presses down like I’m drowning in open air.
I came here to find the truth about Marcus.
To get justice.
But what if the club didn’t kill him?
What if they tried to help him?
What if everything I believe is wrong?
Marcus deserves the truth. The real truth. Not the version the department gave me. Not the version the club might be hiding.
The actual truth, no matter where it leads or who it implicates.
Even if it means burning down everything I thought I knew.
I start the engine, but I don’t pull out immediately. Instead, I sit here, staring at the precinct in my rearview mirror. This building is supposed to represent everything I’m supposed to stand for.
Justice. Truth. Law and order.
But now it just feels like another cage.
