Page 92 of Vicious Temptation

MISSION REPORT.

The pen stays on the paper while I decide what comes next.

Subject: Remi Isabel Cain.

This should be easy enough, except that the first thing that comes to mind has nothing to do with the mission.

She shared her pizza with me.

I stare at the sentence and laugh under my breath.

“Great fucking intelligence, Braga.”

I should cross it out, but I don’t.

She likes spicy pepperoni, extra cheese, and hot honey. She knows more about cars than most people ever will. She hates silence almost as much as she pretends to hate cops. She talks to herself, and she loves people harder than she wants anyone to know.

I can still see her sitting across from me on that couch, wiping away tears as she told me about Ryuji Kuroda. Then I remember her father’s ring and how she trusted me with something that meant so much to her.

Another line finds its way onto the page.

I think you would’ve liked her, Pai.

My hand goes still.

For a long time, I just stare at what I wrote, wondering whether this is a mission report at all…or maybe I just miss my father.

I close the notebook and leave it on the counter before heading to the bathroom. By the time I set my phone on the vanity. The shower is already running, and steam begins to fill the room as I strip off the rest of my clothes. Every muscle in my body aches for the heat, but just as I’m about to step inside, my cell starts buzzing.

I almost ignore it, too exhausted to think of anything but climbing into my bed. Whatever problem is waiting for me can probably survive another twenty minutes without my attention. But of course I turn back and check the screen anyway.

It’s a message from Ryan.

I unlock my phone, and nearly lose my footing when a fucking mugshot of Remi fills the screen.

“Drop the charges,” I bark into the phone as I tear into the county parking lot. “Make them disappear.”

Elena says nothing on the other end. Of course she doesn’t. She’s probably enjoying every second of knowing that Remi is sitting in a holding cell, facing charges that could follow her for years.

Ryan couldn’t tell me much beyond what was already in the system. Aggravated battery, fleeing and eluding, reckless driving, and enough other bullshit for the department to make an example out of her if they wanted to.

My fist slams against the steering wheel, pain shooting across my knuckles.

“Say something.”

“She ran from the police,” Elena replies, far too calmly. “What exactly did you expect would happen?”

“She’s not a criminal.”

The words come out so easily that it takes me a second to hear how fucking ridiculous they sound. I know what she’s done and what her family is capable of. But none of that is what I see when I think about her anymore. Now she’s sitting alone in a cell, probably furious, wanting to tear the place apart and maybe…scared, even though she’ll never admit it.

I throw the truck into park.

“Get rid of the charges,” I say through gritted teeth. “Now.”

“You think it’s that simple?”

“You and I both know it is.” Shoving open my door, I climb out. “You want your answers? Your information? Then good luck getting any of it while she’s buried in courtrooms for the next few years.”