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“Meet your new partner, Mr. King.”

“My new partner?” What did he mean?

“Yup. You can leave this compound under the stipulations you join the gang related task force.” I pondered what he said a moment. A task force? Gang related? Was I taking my own people down?

“What am I going to be doing?”

I watched as Zach turned to smile at Devon. He was lacking the amusement Zach had and that told me I wasn’t going to enjoy this.

“We know you’ve done some really bad stuff. Even if we don’t have the proof, we have the knowledge. Better yet, you have the knowledge…” He pointed at me. “With your information and knowledge of the Mafia, we can take down others who are headed down similar paths. Many do far worse than what you’re known for doing.”

I nodded, understanding what he was saying. I knew what they were talking about. Luccio’s family, before I came into contact with them, ended up being in the business of human trafficking.

“Basically, I get to play good cop?”

“Yes, Devon here will train you on the job. You will report to me once a week. We will have a new job for you every week. Eventually, we’ll get to the big stuff,” Zach said, not sounding as happy as he was before. Maybe it was because I was smiling, and he didn’t expect it—or he finally realized allowing a criminal into a branch of the FBI was insane.

See, those who know me, know my hate for the FBI is huge. However, those letting me go means something to me. I had already decided I was letting the Mafia go. Since my hands will no longer be tied to them, I can start over. I can do better. Be better. Even if it’s just for Bree.

“Okay, I’m in.” I had acted before the chance was taken away.

“Good.” Glancing sideways at Devon for a moment, he walked out of the room leaving us alone.

“Never would I have seen the day Alzerro King joined the good side,” Devon said. He sounded astounded, but somehow, I had expected this to be the plan all along. I owed Devon quite a bit. He had saved Bree’s life, given her a slice of freedom, and by giving her my mother’s knife, had given her the power to kill Mack.

Laughing gruffly, I said, “I owe you big time, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, you do.” Devon laughed back. For the first time in my entire life, I felt the sun shining against my skin.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, now let’s get you cleaned up and do some training so we can get you sent back home next week.”

Bree

I was over caring. Over trying and taking care of myself. Losing him was all that consumed me. It was hard to think about anything else when the other piece of my beating heart was out there somewhere. Jared was trying, as was my father.

They didn’t understand. They didn’t feel the pain deep down to the epicenter. Our love was built on fire, passion, betrayal, and hate. We might not have been meant to be together, but falling in love with him was the most exhilarating thing I had ever done in my life.

The debt is never going to be settled, Piccolo.” My body shuddered as the memory of that very conversation flooded into me.

“Why?” I cried out as he pulled me closer to his mouth. His hot breath was on my face, and he smelled like bourbon and man. Sweat still lined his brow, and blood seeped through the bandage on his shoulder.

“Because now it’s I who is indebted to you…”

This was his repayment to me. His way of thanking me, by making sure I was free of the pain. I would no longer have to deal with the Mafia lifestyle. I would no longer have to fear for my life. What he took with all of it was himself—he removed himself from all of it.

“Come on, Bree. You can’t spend the rest of your life in this bedroom,” Jared spoke from the doorjamb.

Burying myself deeper into the pillow, I screamed. I wanted to hurt someone. Something. Anything to help dull the pain slicing through my chest. People said time heals all wounds, but I think it’s a lie. Wounds don’t heal. We just learned to deal with the pain of losing them differently.

“Jared, I will pull a fucking knife on you if you come in here and tell me what to do again.” I had no filter. I had no reason to care if I hurt others. I was out of control. Like a feral animal, I would attack anything or anyone who got too close.

“You don’t scare me… I care about you, and even though I know he’s gone, you have to carry—”

“Shut up,” I growled not wanting to hear him. I didn’t want the words to be said simply because it made the ache in my chest worse. Nothing made it more apparent than having the truth spoken, and I wasn’t ready to face the truth.

“God, Bree. It’s been two fucking weeks,” Jared all but screamed, his temper rising with every word.

“Two weeks, Jared. Do you hear yourself? Two fucking weeks since I lost the person who made me breathe. The person who I lived for.” I sat up in bed throwing the pillow at him. He caught it with one hand, throwing me a dirty look.

“Look, I know it hurts but—”

“What the hell do you know about love, Jared?” I butted in not allowing him to finish his sentence. All he did was stare back at me. We both knew he hadn’t a fucking clue about love—what it entailed, how it made your heart race. How it made your palms sweat, your eyes dilate, how every hair on your body stood when he or she walked in the room.

“One more week, Bree. One more week is all you get before we leave here and you get your shit together.”

“Fuck you,” I spat at him hatefully. I was an adult. I could do whatever I wanted to do. In fact, I would now. As I rifled around the bedroom for clothes, I thought back to the moment we drove away. I should’ve been mad at him. I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve made him leave. Instead of being mad, I wasn’t. I was hurt, but I knew why he did it. Didn’t mean it was okay, though.

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