“They need you to testify against the club.”
“The evidence and affidavit aren’t enough?” I questioned quietly.
“I’m sorry. They want to make sure that these assholes go down for good.”
“If I go back, it’s going to be a death sentence.”
“We’ll guard you.”
I laughed sarcastically. “Guard me like everyone else has been guarded and then died when they were going to testify. You and I both know there’s a leak.”
He sighed heavily. “I know. I hate to ask, but we need you to come back. Hopefully, they won’t need you more than a day.”
“Trials like this don’t work that way. I wouldn’t be that lucky to get in and out in one day. Being on the stand one day for this is a pipedream.”
“I know. I fought them on this, but they want the nail in the coffin, and you are that nail whether we like it or not.”
I tunneled my hand through my hair. Going back meant risking my life. It meant becoming the man I was for eighteen months before I left Seattle. The only problem with that was that man didn’t exist anymore. I looked toward the bedroom and saw Patience standing in the hall with a sheet wrapped around herself.
She looked so damn beautiful and heartbroken.
“After this,” I said into the phone, not taking my eyes from the woman across the room. “I’m out. I’m done. Retired.”
“You’re the best in the business, Roth. Invaluable to our team and the fight on drugs.”
“That may be, but I have something else I’m fighting for these days. I’m out after this.”
He laughed. “What, did you go and fall in love or something?”
“Yes, I did.”
Patience was still standing in the hallway quietly, her eyes glassy with tears. She could only hear my side of the conversation, and all she really knew was that I would have to leave.
“I need to go, sir. When do I need to be there?”
“The day after tomorrow. Nine in the morning, sharp.”
“I’ll be there.” I disconnected the call and sat back on the couch.
Patience cautiously moved into the room. “Who are you?”
“Tucker Roth, but what I am is more important,” I said dryly, gesturing for her to have a seat beside me. I was disappointed that she didn’t join me on the couch, but I understood her need for distance.
“Okay, what are you?” She took the chair across from me, keeping the coffee table between us, and curled into herself with only the sheet covering her naked body from my view. I could all but see her building walls around herself, and it was killing me.
“I think I should start at the beginning,” I said quietly, running my fingers through my hair. I didn’t get nervous. In my line of work, nerves held no place, but I was about to tell her something I hadn’t told anyone.
“I was fifteen when my little sister got sick. She had a rare aggressive form of bone cancer, so she and I spent a lot of time watching movies on the couch while our parents worked. Her favorite movie was Clueless, and we ended up watching it weekly, sometimes more than once a week.” I smiled at the memory of Danielle quoting the movie verbatim. “She wasn’t sick long. The cancer took her about six months after the diagnosis had been made.” Painful memories struck me like dynamite, but I powered through it, knowing that she needed to know the truth.
“My mom escaped the pain of losing her daughter with pills. As mom fell farther into depression and into drugs, my dad took off and started a new family. I’ve pretty much been on my own and taking care of my mom since I was fifteen.”
“Oh God,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes and the pain etched in her face mirrored my own.
“My mom overdosed, ending her pain two years later, and my dad took me in for a year with his new wife and kid until I could graduate high school.”
“I’m so sorry, Tucker.”
“It is what it is.” I shrugged like it didn’t hurt anymore. It did, but I’d dealt with that pain a long time ago. “I promised myself I would never be like that—like them. So, I ran as far in the opposite direction as I could.”
