“I can’t.”
Her bottom jaw ticked as she chewed on the side of her lip. “Why the hell not?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Because I’m a boob guy. You have magnificent boobs… therefore I’m attracted to your boobs.”
Her eyes rolled as she fired back. “You do realize I’m at least seven years older than you, right?”
Very carefully, I walked up to the bars, sticking my hands through the open spaces. “You see, Deputy Beautiful, I’ve always been attracted to older women. There is just something about you and the way you carry yourself, that has my attention. The more you fight what is obviously growing between us, the more I want to push your buttons and get under your skin. I can already tell that someone in your past has hurt you, and that you’re constantly on the defensive because these douchebags here don’t value you like they should. I see the defeat in your eyes, and the determination as well. That’s a combination I find sexy as fuck, Juliette, and even though it may take me forever, I will wear down all those thorn-covered walls you have erected around your heart. Because I see you, whether you want me to or not. I see the strong woman surfing the line between staying silent and compliant, or taking over and running the whole damn show. You were born to lead, just like your father. You should be acting sheriff, not that piece of shit out there.” I motioned to Hollender who was standing at the front desk, sorting through paperwork. He was basically going through the motions. The dude had no fucking clue what he was doing, he just wanted to look important. That’s why I find him so fucking weasley. Juliette was made to be Sheriff; she was honest and beautiful and had integrity. Hollender wouldn’t even know how to spell integrity if it was written right in front of his face.
Her eyes pleated as her smile fell into a frown. “I wish I had as much confidence in myself as you do, Buchanan, but the truth is, I’m…” She started to say something, but was interrupted by the bell over the door, chiming in the other room. She briefly glanced over her shoulder as a man strolled in, looking smug as all hell.
“Who’s that?” I asked, watching the man held up a picture of Brooklyn to Hollendar.
Something about him wasn’t sitting right with me, and my stomach started to crawl with uncertainty. Was this who Brooklyn was trying to warn me about. He sure fit the mobster bill. A long black trench coat, stretched to the floor, barely covering his stocky build, and making him seem taller than he really was. His eyes were shifty as fuck, but it was the sad excuse of a moustache under his nose that had me already questioning his loyalty.
“I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out.”
She started to walk away, and I knew that I had only one choice… play my cards and hope my instincts about her were spot on.
“Deputy Rooker,” I said loudly, making her stop mid stride.
She sighed, turning around reluctantly. “Yes? Make it quick, I got shit to do.”
I looked around the room, hoping nobody else was listening. I knew what I had to do, but it was difficult asking for help, knowing I would need it.
“Don’t trust him.”
“Who?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at the two men up front.
“Both of them, but definitely not Mr. Moustache man.”
“Why?”
I glanced up at the man who was now studying me with a scrutinizing gaze, one that sent shivers up my spine. “Because I have reason to believe that the New York mob is responsible for Brooklyn’s death.”
She stared at me with wonder then looked back at the man, really analyzing him now. “Why the hell would you think that?”
“Because I didn’t kill my friend, and now I have information that could be even more incriminating than my gun that you found staged at the scene.”
She scoffed. “Staged?”
I smiled smugly and leaned forward on the bars, dropping my voice so only she could hear. “The car was moving, Juliette. Who throws a damn gun out the window after shooting them with it?”
She looked extremely deep in thought, as she thought about my words. Juliette knew I was right. I just hope the evidence in the envelope Brooklyn gave me is enough to convince Juliette she’s playing for the wrong side.
Because without Juliette’s help, I might as well rot behind bars forever.
Chapter Nine
Juliette
He made a valid point, one that I had already brought up to Hollender. Duncan Buchanan wasn’t stupid, and only someone who was dumb as doornails or begging to be caught would drop a gun they’d just killed someone with. If I wasn’t already having my doubts about his innocence before, the look in his eyes when he told me not to trust the man with the pornstache spoke volumes.
“What information?” I stepped closer to the cell holding him. I looked up into his piercing blue eyes and hated the fact that my stomach tightened with need for the man on the other side of the bars.
“I can’t tell you, yet, Beautiful. Not until I’m out of here. There are lives on the line–mine included. Please. Just trust me,” he pleaded. “That man out there, he’s mafia, I can feel it in my bones. And if he’s here looking for Brooklyn then he’s also here to find out the information she left with me.”
I swallowed hard and backed away shaking my head. “And why should I trust you? Your rally got my dad killed, Buchanan. I haven’t forgotten that. He trusted you and your club to keep things from getting out of hand.”
