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“No, you’re just a coward.”
Her words stung. But they were true.
She deserves better than half a life. Half promises. I accepted who I was a long time ago. A murderer with no future. I risk my life daily because this world wouldn’t miss me if I vanished from it. She doesn’t fucking understand that. But neither does my heart. Or my dick. I can still taste her sweetness on my tongue. Having her in my bed forever is a pipe dream. Soaking in her beauty. Her laughter. Fuck, her witty charm. She’s become an addiction for me.
But this is how it has to be.
“I had one of the local officers escort her back to New York. With Sheldon in custody, there wasn’t a need for me to keep her on lockdown.”
“Sure that was a good idea?”
“Pretty sure she’s under my watch, so yeah. I’ll be there shortly.” The rest of the drive is a blur. When I pull into the station, I throw my truck in park and storm inside. I spot Detective Rochel first. “Where is that motherfucker?” I bark out. “You see him yet?”
“I’ve been reading up on his file. Headed in now.”
“I’m going in with you.”
“Tate, you forget your place here. You may have the skills to serve and protect, but you do not have a badge and are not the law.” My fingers clench into a tight fist, and I have to force myself not to break his nose. “You know I’m right. This isn’t personal—”
“It is to me.”
“I’ve noticed. If you care for Miss Parks, let us do this the right way. Go by the book. If we don’t and fuck it up, he’s free, and we’re back at square one.” Fuck the book. Put me in that room for five minutes, and I’ll get all the answers we need.
“Tate. I don’t like that look. If you can’t behave—”
“I fucking heard you. I’m still sitting in.”
Rochel shakes his head. “Fine. Just behave. You go off course, you can blame yourself when he walks.”
I follow him down the hall, and he opens the door to Sheldon Mitchell sitting behind a steel desk, his hands cuffed to the table.
“Mr. Mitchell.”
“Where’s my call?”
“You’ll get your call soon. Would you like to tell me why you were heading up north?”
“None of your business.”
Rochel pulls out images of a vehicle. “It becomes our business when you’re pulled over for driving a stolen vehicle.”
He scans the photos. “Yeah, I’m gonna need that call now so I can get my lawyer.”
“What’s your involvement with Mindy Parks?”
“Name don’t ring a bell.” He leans back in his chair, and I want to wrap my fingers around his neck and choke the life out of him. “I know my rights. I don’t have to talk if I ask for a lawyer.”
Reaching over the table, I fasten my hands around his neck and squeeze. “You ain’t getting anything but life in prison, you piece of shit. Attempted rape, murder, obstruction of private property, stalking, want me to go on?”
“Tate, stand down,” Rochel snaps.
I shove him hard and straighten. If it weren’t for his hands cuffed to the table, he would have fallen backward.
“Pretty sure you can’t do that. You’re the one who’s fucked now, asshole.”
I reach over again, but Rochel slams his hand into my chest. “You’re done.”
“I’m not leaving.”
