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Still, there’s no reason to explain why she was dancing with that guy—the asshole that led her outside in the first place, to where the cops ambushed me. If I didn’t know better, and if I didn’t trust her…it almost feels like a set-up. That realization sets my skin aflame, blood firing through my heart blistering-hot.
I knew she would discover the truth. I just thought she’d come to me. Not put a stakeout on the club to apprehend me blindly.
All that doesn’t matter, though. Because she’s still out there. Somewhere with some guy. Where she’s being stalked. I can’t get that out of my head; I can’t see fucking straight about any of this because she’s out there where a fucking killer is stalking her.
The cop’s radio discharges an order to get further details and he opens the backdoor of his squad car. “We need you to come into the station and give a statement.”
This captures my full attention and I drop my hand, the pain forgotten. “I can give you that statement right here,” I say. I know my rights. And I know how this works. Bring me in on some bogus misunderstanding, and get me into an interrogation room where I could be held up to forty-eight hours.
Julian went through this. I avoided it because I ran. I called him a coward for not dealing, but I was the one who left. He stuck around to take the heat while I tried to forget. It’s possible my anger and fear blinded me to just how much of a coward I really am.
The cop to his right moves in closer, making my hackles raise. “It really would be best if you come with us to make your statement.”
A car door slams. Then, “I’ll take it from here, boys.”
I recognize the gruff voice before I even turn to see the detective. The one who came to my apartment with Sadie a week ago. I feel the impending inevitable slithering up my spine, forewarning me that this is it.
I wish I could’ve spent one more minute with my goddess. I should’ve worked up the courage to tell her myself, instead of letting it end like this. I have a mountain of regret, so this one, small wish shouldn’t devastate me—but it sits in my stomach like a fucking bolder. Dragging me to the depths.
“Mr. Reed, how are you doing tonight?” Detec
tive Quinn asks as he shows me his shield to identify himself.
“I remember you,” I say. “And I guess I’ve had better nights.” I point to my head. “Your officers have a hell of an aim.”
His mouth twists into a crooked grin. “Sorry about that. This serial killer case has everyone a bit jumpy.” He nods to my bandaged knuckles. “What happened to your hand?”
I guess that doesn’t look good. “Club renovations,” I answer quickly.
Quinn looks at me for a long moment, sussing something out before he says, “Let’s take a ride. We’ll work out the details on the way.”
“Am I free to go?” I ask, knowing that this is the one thing he’s required to tell me. “Or am I being charged with something?”
His smile falls. “You’re free to go, but I strongly suggest you offer your cooperation for the time being.”
I smirk. Damn cops always needing my cooperation. I guess I owe them that much. They were very cooperative during Marni’s investigation. Just provide them with the right evidence, and they did the rest of the work.
Resigned, I follow him toward his car, the weight of my crime bearing down on me.
He opens the passenger-side door, and I don’t question why I’m getting special treatment over the rest of the criminals. I take a seat as he walks around the car.
Time passes in tense silence, thickening the air of the cab as he takes the scenic route to the station. The radio crackles to life, and he lowers the volume.
“There’s a detective waiting at the station to question you,” he says, startling the quiet.
I drum my fingers against my knee, my hand itching to get to my phone. “I assume he’s the one who came to the club earlier today looking for my brother.”
“Yep. That’s the one.” He glances over at me as he takes a right. “Carson’s had a lot of pressure on him lately. I’m not making any excuses for him. Just letting you know. This job wears on even the young detectives. You’d think they’d be able to handle the stress better then the old dogs, but they tend to get worked up pretty easily.”
“Why the warning, detective? Is there something I should be worried about?”
“Not if you don’t have anything you feel you should worry yourself over.”
His vague ramblings are putting me on edge. I go to reach in my pocket, then stop. Probably not the best idea to whip out a rope in his car. That has my thoughts right back on Sadie.
“Where’s your partner?” I ask.
Quinn glances at me with raised eyebrows. “Don’t have one. Oh, you mean Agent Bonds.” He sends me a smirk. “Got to you, did she? Yeah, she has that way about her. Gets right under your skin.”
