“What happened?”
C pulls an ottoman over and sits on it. His knees are nearly touching mine, and I’m pretty sure he’s sitting close so if I try to jump up, he’ll be able to prevent it.
“Your boyfriend shot him,” he says in a low voice, peering at my face.
“What?” I can’t comprehend what he’s saying. “Trick is—he’s the only one… since the night of the poker game. There’s no one else. Did Scott say that? That a boyfriend of mine…? And he’s been shot? How bad is it?” Tears sting my eyes, and I look away. “Tell me what happened.”
“Milt Schager. He’s your boyfriend, right?”
My head jerks back to stare at him.
“You were part of the sting against Trick that Schager organized. And he knows your family, your little sister?”
My face burns. “We broke up months and months ago. And I didn’t know the sting was against Trick. I was told you guys were engaged in human trafficking. And if I would go to a game and help by capturing whatever was said, it would help my sister who was in trouble. I thought it was the right thing to do for a lot of reasons. But when Trick was the one there, I couldn’t go through with it.”
“You’re in contact with Schager though. Talking to him and the FBI still?”
Exhaling heavily, I shake my head. A part of me wants to tell Connor to go fuck himself, but I know he has good reasons to be suspicious of me. For Trick’s sake, I want to answer his questions, so maybe he’ll trust me a little more and Trick won’t feel caught in the middle.
“Haven’t spoken to him. Milt tried to reach me twice and left voicemails for me to call him back, but I didn’t either time.”
“You talked to Trick tonight after weeks of not talking to him. And right when he’s distracted by your call, Schager tries to kill him.”
“We weren’t plotting against Trick. God, I wouldn’t. Milt’s under investigation, and Trick’s advice to my sister is what started it. I think Milt was trying to call me to warn me or coach me on what to say to the investigators. And then after I met with FBI investigators, I think he wanted to know about the interview. It turns out the poker game operation wasn’t conducted properly. And the trafficking picture he showed me was from another investigation entirely, from four years ago. There were a lot of lies. He trapped my sister so he’d be able to convince me to help him. Then he waited a lot of hours to report that Trick had taken an informant. Anything could have happened to me. My welfare obviously wasn’t his main concern. He is not my friend, let alone my boyfriend.”
“Some of that’s true.”
“It’s all true.”
“The rest we have your word for. Could be you broke things off. Or could be you’re still undercover for the FBI.”
“They don’t send civilians undercover. The FBI told me they would never have sent someone like me, who hadn’t seen Trick in years, into a situation like that.”
“It’s pretty hard for me to believe Schager didn’t tell you Trick would be at the poker game. What if you’d walked out? Or been rattled? Trick would’ve noticed. He notices everything.”
“I don’t know what Milt was thinking.”
Connor leans forward, speaking very softly. “A few months ago, I would’ve said there’s no one alive that could put one over on Trick for long, but you’re not just anyone to him, are you? I’ll tell you this. If you betray him or any of us again, I’ll deal with you myself and you will not like what happens.”
My heart hammers in my chest, and I feel faint again.
A commotion causes us to turn.
“Hang on,” Trick says. “That pill’s hitting me.” Trick’s shirtless, with a sheen of sweat on his chest. His left arm’s wrapped with an ace bandage.
Anvil’s got a hand on Trick’s right arm, helping to hold him up. “That’s what you get for snorting it like a junkie.”
Trick sees us and immediately straightens up. “Hey, you’re here.” He smiles, then his gaze cuts to Connor and back to my face. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?” Trick moves quicker than he looks capable of doing.
Connor shoots to his feet and takes a step away from me, then stands his ground. “Just talkin’. You want her in the house, on tonight of all nights, I have to make sure she knows she better be trustworthy.”
Trick’s expression hardens, and he stalks right up to Connor. A second later, Trick leans forward and then Connor’s gun is in Trick’s hand and pointed at its former owner.
“Back up, C.”
“You can barely stand. Give me that fuckin’ gun.”
Trick’s sweating, but his voice is steady. “Bud vase. Eleven o’clock.” Trick’s arm moves a few degrees. The gun discharges with a cracking sound, and a small crystal vase explodes into pieces.
