Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
My heart races as she holds my hand tighter and her face crumples with worry.
“I’m okay, and I love him, but this”—I lift my hand so the ring shines in the light— “this couldn’t wait.”
With my limited confession, she’s beside herself, really. As if she’s blaming herself for missing all the signs with me. As if there’s some solution to the fact that I’m married to Declan, and she’s just not seeing it. She looks like she’s running out of time, and that makes my heart clench, because I know that feeling very well.
“He cares for me.”
Her hand wraps around mine and I can see her will cave slightly, although I’m not sure to what extent.
“You’re married?” she says as if it’s a question but it’s not.
“Yes,” I answer quietly, feeling the tension shift slightly.
My mother blinks away the tears and noticeably calms herself.
“I’m married and I’m happy that I am.”
My words bring her gaze to me and she stares me down like she’s done before. As if she’s testing to see if I’m telling her the truth. “I mean it,” I reaffirm, “I love him, Mama.”
Mama watches me very carefully when I say these words. I look back at her, my gaze unwavering. I’m telling her the truth, and she needs to know that. “I want you to meet him.”
“Well.” A nervous laugh. I’m not sure if there’s relief now, or if she’s simply going along so she doesn’t lose me entirely. “Do I have a choice?”
It’s another half-joke that breaks my heart.
“Mama, please. When I tell you I love him, I mean it.”
For a few seconds, she looks exactly the same. Afraid. Haunted. Guilty. But gradually, her expression softens. When she looks into my eyes, I can tell she’s really seeing me.
“You really love him?”
“Yes.” I nod, then dab at the corners of my eyes again.
“Then I will meet him.”
“You will?” I ask her again to make sure. I’m quick to grab her hand and squeeze, and she squeezes mine back. I know she’s still worried. I know, honestly, that she has a right to be worried. But if she’s willing to meet Declan, then there’s hope.
“I’m so happy,” I tell her even though I know I must look like I’m on the verge of tears again.
“I will meet your husband,” she says, more firmly. Then she pats my hand. “Has this cocoa been sitting here long?”
I shrug. “Fifteen minutes, maybe?”
“It’s a little cold.” She waves at the waiter, who makes his way over with a relieved smile. “We’ll get something stiffer. And then you’ll tell me everything, won’t you?” she asks me, staring me down once again.
I look my mother dead in the eyes, a small smile on my face while I lie to her, “I’ll tell you everything.”
DECLAN
There’s something we’re missing and it’s driving me mad. I toss the fucking book on Carter’s desk. My older brother eyes me warily. It’s fucking late and I should be in bed with Braelynn, but I can’t fucking sleep.
I’ve flipped through every page of the notebook and there was someone else working with Scarlet. Someone who knew a female cop and reported to her. I’ve watched every security video with Scarlet on repeat until my eyes feel as if they’re bleeding. Every video with my Braelynn.
It doesn’t fucking make sense. None of it. It’s as if I must be staring at the fucking rat and yet he’s hidden.
It would be so easy to simply get rid of the detective. And everyone he’s worked with. I have a list…but I’m all too aware at least one name is missing.
“Who the fuck do we have to torture to figure it out?”
“The female cop is gone. N got a hold of her with the issue he’s going through,” Carter murmurs. He has his intel and I have mine. She would have been the only lead to the name. Even this detective doesn’t know how she got her information. Which is partly a blessing. Hearsay isn’t enough to grant an arrest warrant.
“The only info he gave me is what I told you last night.”
I clear my throat, breathing in deeply. “And I’m guessing he didn’t get a name.”
“If he did, he didn’t tell me.”
The domino pieces slip into place in my mind. The judge, the detective who works with the feds, the cops beneath him, and then the rats. There is Scarlet, but then there’s someone else. I find myself questioning if it was Scarlet who set Braelynn up or one of my men.
“You’re overthinking this,” Carter murmurs. “We get rid of the cops and the rat is left with no one to squeal to,” he tells me, his dark eyes piercing into mine. “We’ll find out who it is eventually. They always tell on themselves.”
He doesn’t get it. I don’t have the patience for this. I don’t have the mercy or grace. I can barely focus on anything else.