Cruz sits forward in his seat, gripping my hand tightly. I stroke the back of his hand gently with my thumb, trying to ease some of the anxiety I know is filling him right now.
“What does that mean? Was he arrested?” I ask without really meaning to.
“We had a few things working in our favor. He was in town, so Detective Flores was able to apprehend him quickly after Miami PD reached out,” Rich adds, cracking open a bottle of water and offering it to me. When I nod, he slides it across the table.
“He was almost smug about the whole process and wouldn’t shut up on the way to the station despite being read his rights,” the detective adds.
“Miller’s always been like that. Thinks he’s smarter than everyone and that the rules don’t apply to him.” Cruz reaches across the table—Rich taking another bottle from himself. There’s no love lost between him and Miller, but I’ve never heard his voice this cold.
It makes my arms prickle with goosebumps. The fear of his grief and anger consuming him was why I was so against him coming out here. He’s promised to move on with our future when this is all over, and I need to trust that he will do that.
Like he can sense the way my nerves kick into high gear, he glances over at me, flipping our hands over and ghosting the pad of his thumb over my hand. Some of the angry drains from his face as he watches me.
“Sorry, Detective. My nerves are pretty shot here, so I’m sure Cruz is feeling the same. Can you spell it out for me?” Everything he said makes sense and points to them making progress. I don’t need the details, I just need to know what this means for the man sitting next to me.
Detective Flores looks to Rich, who leans forward on his elbows. Looking Cruz in the eyes as he rolls his lips. The look he gives him sends chills up my spine and I scoot my chair close to Cruz, letting my head rest on his arm. I want to crawl in his lap and give him all the comfort I have to offer, but it’s the best I can do given our setting.
“It’s over. The short story is that he confessed to being at the beach with Jarrett that night. He slipped him the GHB. There was some sort of altercation after your brother accused Miller of giving him something. Ultimately, Miller says, Jarrett fell and hit his head. After he fell, Miller panicked and left him there. You’re right, he’s a selfish motherfucker. Miller was more concerned about his career than saving your brother’s life.”
There’s a gasp, and it takes me a moment to realize it came from me, but my focus shifts to Cruz who curls around me, burying his face in my hair the best he can with the office chair separating us. Silent sobs rack his body, and it rips my heart in two. Seeing him like this, it’s worse than I could have imagined, but I fight the pull to fall apart alongside him, letting my tears fall silently as I hold him.
Rich clears his throat, looking at me when he speaks. “We’re going to give you some time. I’ll be right outside when he’s ready. I’m sure he’ll have questions.” I nod weakly, knowing he’s right. “And Delilah . . . he’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” My voice is raw as Rich slips through the door to give us privacy. When the door clicks shut, I do what I’ve been aching to do since Cruz first tensed up and crawl into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“I’ve got you,Mi Amor,” I whisper into his neck. “I’ve got you.”
We stay like this for a while and I have no clue if it’s been ten minutes or an hour. Cruz sniffles before lifting his head. “Thank you for being here. I thought I could do this without you, but I couldn’t have.”
“I’m never letting you do the hard stuff alone again. You hear me? It’s you and me,” I tell him, cradling his face in my hands.
He nods. “Let’s get them back in here and then I want to get out of here.”
I slide out of his lap and open the door, letting Rich know we are ready. He takes the same seat he vacated earlier.
“Detective Flores had some paperwork to take care of. I think I’ll be able to answer all your immediate questions, but we can call him back in if we need him,” Rich explains, looking between us.
“Did he say why he gave him the GHB?” Cruz’s face is a mask. Like he’s locked it all down to get through this conversation.
“Everyone knew Jarrett was about to get called up to play for the Commanders. Miller was afraid of him taking his spot. So he slipped the GHB into his drink. He wanted him to test positive for a banned substance.” Rich pauses for a minute, giving us a second to process and ask questions before continuing. “Whether he thought it would save his ass or just wanted to fuck over your brother, I don’t know. The alcohol and GHB combined likely made your brother disoriented. When he confronted him and they fought, it’s probable that he lost his balance and hit his head. Miller called the taxi so someone would find him and bolted.”
“My brother died so Miller could keep his spot on the team?” I try to cover it, but a sob breaks free when I hear the pain in Cruz’s voice.
“I’m so sorry. Your brother didn’t deserve what happened to him. Miller’s going to go away for what he did, but I know that doesn’t take away the loss of Jarrett.”
Cruz stands from his chair, pulling me up with him. “Is there anything you need from me, or can we get out of here? I need to call my parents and then I just need some time. You’ll keep me updated?”
“Of course. There’s nothing you need to do.” Rich shakes Cruz’s hand before leading us out the door.
“Thanks Rich. I don’t know how to repay you for finding out what happened to my brother. He’s going to get justice because you believed me when I told you that his death wasn’t an accident.”
“I wish I would’ve gotten you closure sooner, but I’m glad you finally have it. The reporters are still out front, but the back is clear. The press release won’t be until tomorrow afternoon.”
Chapter 45
That HEA
Present
