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Gordon hits me again and again, and eventually my body goes slack and numb. But not my mind. In my mind, I see Blade. I see him in a courtroom, surrounded by law enforcement who’ve been wanting to take him out for years, and I know my uncle is right. Blade will go down for this. And it’ll be my fault.
I’m sorry, I say to him in my mind. I close my eyes.I’m so sorry.
When Gordon is done, he takes my ring off my fingers before unfastening the cuffs and letting my limp body fall to the floor. My back is wet with blood, but I know my uncle is far from done. I also know he couldn’t possibly hurt me any more than he already has.
I look up into his cold, unfeeling eyes when he bends to pick me up, and I muster all the strength I have to grab the back of his head and slam my forehead into his nose.
He screeches, pulling back, and I gather the saliva in my mouth to spit before he has a chance to fully get away.
“Go fuck yourself.”
27
Blade
Detective Mathew O’Rourke sits across from me in the new interrogation room with his arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look as happy as I expected, and I’m guessing he’s upset that he wasn’t the one who arrested me. Or maybe he was taken off the case altogether. I don’t know, but I don’t have much time to be curious.
“There, we’re alone,” he says, his tone flat. “No glass. No spectators. You ready to give me your confession now?”
“Turn the camera off,” I say, nodding to the recorder situated on a tripod to the left of me.
He shakes his head. “Bianchi, I swear to God, if you’re jerking me around…”
“Turn off the camera, and I’ll give you everything. I’ll sign whatever you want, but I want this to be between you and me.”
His brows pinch as he eyes me skeptically. My foot taps lightly on the floor, and I refrain from screaming at him to hurry the fuck up.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust your colleagues. Just do it,” I snap, which doesn’t help my situation at all. O’Rourke sits still, I’m guessing out of spite. We stare at each other for a moment, me with impatience and him with absolute hatred.
Finally, he leans over and shuts off the camera. As soon as I see the red light turn off, I lean forward, my elbows on the table and speak with urgency.
“Judge Gordon Wilson has Emily. He’s holding her prisoner, and I need to get to them.Now.”
He laughs and gives his head a shake. “You can’t be serious.”
“Thenyougo get her. Did you hear what I fucking said?”
“I heard you say that the woman whom you kidnapped and used against me is staying with family, yes. And you want me to what?” He raises a brow. “Kick down the judge’s door and go rescue her? Without a warrant?”
I take an angry breath and let it out slowly while I try to compose myself. If they hadn’t cuffed my feet and hands together, I’d be tempted to fly over this table.
“The other detective asked me where she is, and I’m giving you that information. Isn’t that what you people wanted?”
“What wewantis you behind bars, Blade. And it looks like we’ve accomplished that.”
I bang on the table and lean toward him. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Do I look serious?” he asks, his voice as hard as his face. Yes, he does. He doesn’t give a shit about Emily. And even if I gave him my confession in exchange for him going to the judge’s house, he’s right. He has no probable cause to search the house. And the judge won’t be giving her up.
What is he doing to herright now? I lean back and wince at the thought. My eyes close, and I think of what to say. If I confess, I’m not getting out of here. If I don’t, she’s got no chance of anyone coming for her, law enforcement or otherwise.
I never told Settimo about Emily’s uncle. Even if I had, would he save her?
No, probably not. Not from a judge.
I’m fucked.
