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She deserved to know. I knew that. It was why I hadn’t fought her on it. She was right and I was wrong and it was just that fucking simple. There was nothing I could say to make it up to her so all I could hope for was her forgiveness.
And as soon as I figured out how to get it, I would go to her. Not a moment sooner. Hitting the bag hadn’t helped, but I didn’t plan to stop until I was too exhausted to do anything other than shower and fall into bed. I’d inhale big lungful’s of what remained of Vanessa on my bed until sleep claimed me.
It was late, and the whole facility was empty, giving me all the time I needed to hit until I couldn’t hit anymore. I knew it was time to call it a day when my hand grazed the bag, but I wasn’t done punishing myself.
Not yet.
A loud pounding on the front door broke my concentration, and I stopped mid-jab to see who in the hell was knocking on the door at ten o’clock at night. Terry or Jasper or even Virgil would have used their keys, which only increased my apprehension, so I took my time to towel off and throw a jacket over my quickly cooling muscles.
My worry lessened, but only slightly, at the sight of a smaller figure that had to be a woman. The sight of her cheap black slacks and plain white shirt immediately identified her as law enforcement, which kicked my worry up about ten notches. I’d already answered their questions, and I’d even gotten word that no charges would be filed against me for the death of the guy who tried to take out Vanessa, which meant she was here for another reason.
I opened the door just enough to be heard, a bored expression on my face. “We’re closed.”
The woman was small with bright red hair and freckles over her nose and cheeks making her look more like a woman playing a cop than being one. Then she flashed her badge in that proud way cops often did and I knew she wasn’t fooling around.
“I’m not here for a workout. Agent Beck, FBI.” I stared and waited for her to continue. “Do you have a moment?”
“Just.”
“Right.” She folded her arms, doing her best to appear calm and cool. “I wanted to talk to you about the man you killed.”
I tried not to show the shiver that went down my spine as a vision of that fight crossed my mind, the bloody face of the guy and Fiona, gagging as her tongue was cut out.
“So, talk,” I managed to say. If Agent Beck thought she would intimidate me, she had another think coming.
“You’re not worried about the Black Jacks?”
I shrugged. “Never even heard of ’em until the cops told me who they were.”
“That’s not an answer, is it Emmett?”
I arched a brow at her familiarity. “Are we friends, Agent Beck? Because only my friends call me Emmett.”
“If I were you, I would be more worried about the Black Jacks retaliating against you or someone close to you.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not me then, isn’t it?” She wasn’t here in any official capacity, which was clear. “Anything else?”
“You’re really not worried, are you? I guess if I was buddy-buddy with the biggest crime family in Nevada, I wouldn’t be worried either. But the Black Jacks have shown their willingness to be ruthless in their climb to the top.”
So, the Ashbys in general were the reason for her visit.
“Look lady, I already told you I just thought they were some tweakers who liked beating up on women. I don’t know shit about this gang, and if you don’t have any actual questions, I’ve got shit to do.”
Her lips pulled into a tight grin to hide the anger I saw burning in her narrowed blue eyes. “You’ve heard about all the priests meeting an unfortunate end here in the valley?”
I nodded, saying nothing because it was only unfortunate depending on who you asked.
“You know anything about it?”
“Nope. Haven’t been to church since I was a kid.” And I hadn’t believed in some all-seeing entity since one of those fuckers stuck his hand down my pants over and over again.
“I know what’s been on the news, which is not a goddamn thing.”
“What do you think happened to them?”
I shrugged. “Probably fucked with the wrong person. That’s usually how people meet a violent end, isn’t it, Agent Beck?”
Her lips curled into an unamused grin because she wasn’t getting what she wanted out of this conversation.
“You ever heard of Jack Beck?”
The name was completely unfamiliar to me but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the man was related to the annoyed FBI agent.
“Nope. Is he famous?”
Agent Beck shook her head but she couldn’t hide the disappointment at my ignorance. “Watch out for the Black Jacks, Mr. Manning. They are small right now, but dangerous because they have a lot to prove while they attempt to take over Reckless Bastards territory.”
