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“All right,” I agreed, and followed him into the alley, going no further than just into its shadowed mouth.
When he saw that I would go no more he stopped, sighed, and leaned casually against the brick wall, kicking a bit of trash out of his way. He folded his arms and fixed me with an investigative stare.
I should have had him pegged as a cop from the moment I saw him. It was written all over him. The shoes. The haircut. His posture. The fucking navy windbreaker. Standard issue.
Christ, I needed to get out of my own goddamned head and pay closer attention.
“I hear you’ve made somefriendsat Briar Hall,” he said, the words a verbal nudge. A prompt he wanted me to finish.
I didn’t.
His jaw ticked. “All right. No beating around the bush.” He lifted himself to his full height, all traces ofgood copgone. This was business now. “It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve drawn the interest of a particular three students. You might know them as the Crows: Corvus James, Rook Clayton, and Grey Winters.”
This wasnotwhere I thought this was headed.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” he continued, not even bothering to give me more than a few seconds to formulate a response. “Now, I’ve done some digging. I know that your father, a Mr. John Mason, was recently killed in a gang-related incident.”
My skin prickled with heat, fists curling.
“That’s not how the cops in Lennox see it,” I bit out.
He pursed his lips. “No. But you seem like a smart girl. I’m sure you know that these things aren’t always dealt with as they should be.”
He and I could agree there, but he wasn’t painting himself in the best light. What made him any better than those useless badge-toting rednecks in Lennox?
“I want your help,” he said, surprising me for the second time. “The Saints are squeaky clean. My department can’t seem to make anything stick to those slippery bastards. And my boss...let’s just say his allegiance is and always has beenquestionableat best.”
That was a serious accusation. One he was making to an eighteen-year-old girl in a dark alleyway at nearly 11pm.
He wants my trust,I realized. He was trying to put himself on my level. Make it seem like we were in on some private secret.
I don’t trust it.
“Why don’t you just ask for a cut and turn the other cheek like all the other asshole cops do?”
A knot formed between his bushy brows. “It’s...personal,” he offered, giving no more than that.
I nodded silently, imagining a million possible scenarios without his needing to utter a single word.
“Okay. So what do you want?”
“I think you’d like to see those boys and their entire empire fall just as much as I would.”
The screams of the man in the shed returned to me in sharp clarity.
Corvus’ rough fingers around my wrists.
Rook’s malice.
Grey’s attentive stare.
“I want your help,” he repeated again. “I need an informant. One Diesel and his psycho sons won’t see coming.”
“I don’t—”
“Wait,” he interrupted, rushing forward a step like he might try to cover my mouth. Stuff my refusal back in. “Don’t answer now. Think about it. If you’ve seen anything—if youseeanything—just...”
He dug into the pocket of his slacks and opened his wallet, digging out a crinkled white business card. He thrust it out to me. “Just call me. The Crows don’t mess around, Miss Mason. I can help you. We can help each other.”
