4
CARTER
PRESENT DAY
I’ve worked with Dante for years, committing crimes that should’ve left me rotting behind steel bars, but somehow, I’ve never experienced the pleasure of an interrogation room.
They’re just as I imagined. A spitting image of what popular crime dramas get right: oppressively small, the brightness of the overhead light almost surgical, the chair Vaughn left me in designed for discomfort. Hard, cold metal digs into the backs of my legs while my hands rest on an equally cold table, cuffed to a rail running across the top.
The door to my right stands shut, a reminder of my reluctant presence in the almost empty room. I may have come willingly, but that doesn’t mean I want to be here.
I don’t have any other choice.
Stale, dusty air hangs heavy as if the room hasn’t seen a vacuum in decades and two surveillance cameras face my way, red diodes winking in sync.
I feel the eyes of the entire police squad boring into me from the large, one-way mirror. Vaughn made quite a spectacle ten minutes ago, parading me like a prized catch through the precinct.
Most cops had to pick their jaws up off the fucking floor while Vaughn paraded me front and center, rubbing the sight in everyone’s faces as if saying,It took me ten minutes to do what none of you managed in eight years.
I had no idea he had such a flare for drama. Maybe that’s where Hailey gets her acting talent.
Before I was tossed into this matchbox of a room, Chief Jeremy Smith offered me his signature head tilt over Vaughn’s shoulder. I’ve seen that tilt countless times, so I know it means something along the lines ofI’ll see what I can do.
Nice gesture, but his services won’t be needed today. The warrant is fake. Even if it was genuine, there’d still be exactlyjack shitJeremy could do to help me other than sending one of his first-aiders to bandage my bleeding hand, and he already did that.
Vaughn’s not one to be swayed by bribes or backdoor deals, and he’s brought along a bunch of fresh-faced, equally stiff-looking recruits, probably straight out of the police academy, their ideals still intact.
A smirk curves my lips. Vaughn has nothing on me but desperate men do desperate things...
Surely, he has to know the accusation won’t stick. I didn’t kill Matthews and he can’t prove otherwise. He’s throwing punches in the dark, hoping for a lucky strike.
The door bursts open in another dramatic display intended to falter my confidence. It strikes the wall like a lightning boltand accomplishes nothing but pointless noise. He’s barking up the wrong tree if he thinks he’ll intimidate me with abang.
He strides in, two steaming cups in hand, the bittersweet aroma overpowering the space in seconds. Looks like he’s about to dive deep into the role of good cop.
He’s not fooling anyone.
One of his rookies follows him in, the key to my cuffs dangling from his index finger. He hesitates, pausing over the threshold.
“Uncuff him,” Vaughn orders. “Andleave.”
“But, sir—” he protests, only to cower under Vaughn’s stare. “Of course, sir. I’ll be outside if you need me.”
The cuffs fall away, clinking against the table. I rub my wrists and flex my fingers, restoring circulation as I lean back, giving my legs a break from the chair’s hard edge.
Vaughn doesn’t say a word. He holds my gaze, slides one coffee across the table, and settles into the opposite chair.
From the inside pocket of his jacket, he retrieves a small recorder, setting it down with deliberate care.
I cock an eyebrow, glancing at the standard-issue recording device already in the room. The red standby light tells me all I need to know. Given the botched warrant, I shouldn’t be surprised he’s not following protocols... but I am. It doesn’t fit his profile.
He sizes me up, eyes sharp and challenging like he’s waiting for me to crack under pressure. Like he expects me to confess if he stares long enough. Maybe such tricks have worked on the lesser minds he’s interrogated in the past, but—again—wrong fucking tree.
I lift the cup, blow the steam off, and take a sip, waiting for the curtain to drop.
Years of working with Dante Carrow taught me all about maintaining my composure in the most unlikely situations. I cancalm down and keep my cool at the snap of my fingers ninety-nine percent of the time.
It was a hundred percent until very recently. Until I found the glaring exception, the chink in my armor. A vulnerability with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Any harm coming Hailey’s way, one small new scratch or bruise on her perfect body, and my control disintegrates. Calming down when she’s hurt is mission fucking impossible.
