She’s mine to protect.
I’d never have to leave her under someone else’s protection again if only she’d remember. If only these questions would stop multiplying.
How the fuck did Rhett find out Alex was a cop?
Why was Alex parked one street over from the bank?
When did Alex tell Hailey about Aalyiah?
Who told my sister she wasn’t the only girl her boyfriend was involved with?
Where was Hailey running when—
I halt, corralling my racing thoughts. The first time Hailey saw a gun firing, she also saw herself running through mud toward concrete streets. It had to be the same night she saw Rhett execute whoever it was.
“Ryder, I need—”
The door swings open, cutting me off mid-sentence. Chen returns with two heavily armed security guards, their presence a clear sign he’s done playing nice.
“There you go, Mr. Willard, the security footage as requested. I’m afraid you won’t find anything of interest, but I know you won’t take my word for it.” He hands me a flash drive, his spine rigid, the door to the office still wide open. “Now, I’d appreciate if you’d see yourself out.”
My jaw clenches, anger and disappointment swirling in a potent mix. “Thank you for your time,” I snap, motioning at my men. “We’re leaving.”
Not that we have much choice in the matter. The security guards escort us out, closing the heavy door behind us once we’ve stepped into the biting evening air. We don’t speak until we’re back in the Range Rover and Broadway pulls away from the curb while Ryder loads the security footage.
The whole time I’m watching, hoping to see either Hailey or Alex, my mind invents a dozen new ways to proceed, each more desperate than the last.
“Nothing,” I clip, snapping the laptop closed. “Back to the drawing board. We need to check all our intel on Rhett, Blaze, Alex—anyone who could lead us to the evidence. I want everyone X-rayed again. Vaughn too. Matthews, his daughter. Throw Apollo into the mix.” I run a hand down my face. “Check Aalyiah, Babyface, the fucking nurse Rhett bribed at the hospital.Everyone.”
I know most of those people don’t matter, but I need to feel like we’re fighting for an edge. It was easier to sit around andwait for Hailey to remember while my main goal was earning her trust. Now I have it, I want to stop hiding her.
???
Koby’s pouting in the wingback chair when we arrive back at Dante’s house. Its owner sits by the long bar that takes up the right wall of his living room, a drink in hand, a Glock beside him, narrowed eyes jumping between me, Broadway, and Ryder.
Instead of firing off questions, he motions toward the leather couch. “She fell asleep an hour ago.”
Hailey’s curled up under a fluffy blanket she must’ve dragged here from the guest house, her face nuzzled into a pillow. She didn’t get much sleep last night, writhing under me and screaming the guest house down.
“How was the trip?” Koby asks, the bitterness in his voice betraying he’s been bored out of his mind.
“Long and fucking pointless,” Broadway says, fetching a bottle of whiskey. “No deposit boxes for Alex or Hailey, and nothing on the camera footage.” He makes everyone a drink, settling for water himself.
Perks of being the designated driver.
I tell Dante about the bank visit in more detail, then jump into an idea I had while Chen left to fetch the footage. I ask Ryder to pull up the map of Alex’s journey on the night of the accident.
“We kept thinking Hailey was in the car with Alex the whole time and that he stopped here...” I point at theXnear the bank, “to drop off the evidence, but... what if he was on his own until he stopped here to pick up Hailey? What if the night she saw Rhett executing some poor fucker was the night of the accident? Shehad a flashback about running through a muddy field.” I point out the warehouse and trail my finger back toward the bank. “This is nothing but wasteland. She saw Rhett kill someone, called Alex to pick her up, then ran across the field.”
“Rhett sends Babyface after them at the same time,” Ryder says, the look on his face telling me his analytical mind’s computing a thousand possibilities. “Whoever he killed must’ve told him about Alex being a cop.”
“He knew when he found Aalyiah earlier that day,” Broadway counters.
“Would he send his men after a cop without getting confirmation he is, in fact, a cop?” Koby muses, tapping his index finger against his cheek. “If not, then maybe whoever he killed gave him that confirmation.”
“It’s plausible but...” Dante downs the last of his drink, deep in thought before he continues. “How did Hailey find herself at the warehouse in the first place?”
That’s a question I can’t answer.
