Page 184

Then, from the hallway, the click-clack of high heels.

My gaze locks on the doorway. On Delilah.

And there she is.

A wild halo of honey-blond hair, and a face so damn beautiful I almost forget to breathe. My girl. Everything I could ever want in this world.

It’s satisfying watching the light die in Craddock’s eyes when she walks into the tasting room. The look of shock on his face is searing.

Delilah heads straight for me. My hand rests possessively on her waist, pulling her closer. “You okay?” I run a gentle hand over her arm, careful not to touch her bandage. It still fills me with rage whenever I look at it.

She nods, her gaze soft and unblinking as she stares at me.

Craddock goes unnaturally still.

“I brought you this.” Into my scarred palm, she drops the USB like we’ve discussed. Then she presses up on tiptoe, kisses my cheek, and shoots a death glare at Craddock before exiting.

Craddock stands there in stunned silence.

Brow arched, River looks at Warren. “She don’t look dead, does she, War?”

“No, Riv, she sure as hell doesn’t.” Warren’s eyes don’t leave the Glencairn glass he’s polishing.

I chuckle, but the levity doesn’t last long, because a moment later, Craddock wrenches the knife from his hand. Blood spurts. His burly body explodes across the room, heading for the exit, but River steps in front of it. He swings the gun out from behind his back, levels it at Craddock. “Don’t move.”

“Turn around,” I order.

He does. “She’s alive.”

“No thanks to you.”

“What are you going to do, Weston? Kill a cop?” Red rises up in his already ruddy face.

“You don’t deserve to be breathing. Not after what you did to her.”

“You think you’re fucking cowboys. You’ll go to prison the second you touch me. You fucking pussies. You pieces of shit.” Spittle hangs from his greasy lips.

As much as I ache to, we can’t kill a cop. I won’t let that be the mistake that takes me from Delilah. There’s a better way to kill Craddock slowly. And it starts with my parents.

“No. We’re not going to kill you.” I grin. “We’re going to own you.”

“You’re going to help us.” Warren comes around the bar.

Craddock scoffs. “Help you? Why would I?”

“Because otherwise, you’re fucked. See this?” I lift the USB. “This is a list of everyone who ever purchased one of D’Angelo’s snuff films. The cops are still combing through all those filthy fucking perverts. One word from us, and our source hacks it and adds your name to the list.”

“You wouldn’t.” Craddock squirms.

“We would.” I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest. “I can only imagine how this town will react.”

I look to Warren, and he takes up the threat.

“Lots of people are going to be disgusted with you. And not just you. Your wife’s reputation is ruined. No more dinner parties with the mayor. Your daughter and her chances at a good college don’t seem so certain, do they?”

Craddock closes his eyes, sniffling.

My turn now. “You think Hale wants something this dirty touching him? You’re out of a job, Craddock. No more being Hale’s right-hand man. No more perks. No more piece-of-shit cop authority complex.”