As I’m hauled to my feet, I lock eyes with Guy.
“I only ask that you let me know how she is,” I say.
He stares at me, his expression cold. “Goodbye, Gable.”
The officer tries to tug me away, but I yank myself free. “Guy, please. You can’t expect me not to know how she is!” He remains silent, and the other officer grips my biceps and pulls me away. “Guy! Don’t fucking do this!”
But he says nothing.
He takes his seat again.
And he watches them take me away.
Chapter 48
Gable
Part of me knew I’d end up here.
It was either here or the morgue, I guess, but I don’t know which I’d prefer.
The orange jumpsuit scratches against my skin, and I roll my neck in a pointless attempt to get some relief from it. I was never exactly the kind of guy who wore designer, but I’m uncomfortable as fuck.
I’ve been here for two weeks, and I’m already fucking sick of the place. The food sucks, it’s always cold, and I have no communication with anyone on the outside. I know the whole point of jail is to be unpleasant, but I just want one hot shower where I’m on my own.
But that’s the least of my problems.
I haven’t seen a lawyer, have had no visitors, and haven’t even had a hearing to put forward my plea.
Guy is keeping my stay here under wraps, and while I can’t see him resorting to murder, a man will do anything when their family is on the line. He’s proven that by going to Ranger.
“Flynn. Letter.”
I sit up in bed as an envelope is tossed at me. It’s already opened, like all mail is, but this is the first thing I’ve received. The first thing I’ve been allowed to receive, more like.
Unfolding the contents, I scan the words.
Hunter DeLuca.
Estate.
Businesses.
$73.7 million dollars.
Left to: Gable Flynn.
Nothing about Ella.
I tear up the paper and flush it, lying back in bed and staring at the rusted springs of the bunk above mine.
She’ll be okay. She’ll be healing, probably grumpy as hell, demanding that her dad get in touch with me. He won’t, because he’s stubborn, but she’ll wear him down.
She wore me down, didn’t she?
Closing my eyes, I imagine she’s beside me. Cuddling me, doing that little sigh she does when she’s tired or bored. She’d be hot. Annoyingly, wonderfully hot, and I’d complain, but pull her close if she tried to move away.
“Hey, Flynn.”
