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“It’s not a good time.”
“Your choice.” I glance at the receptionist, who is watching fixedly. “Tell me why the fuck you are visiting a rapist in county lock-up?”
The gasp from the lady has everyone turning her way.
“Follow me,” Tera grates out, leading us down the hall to a small room. “What the hell is your problem?” she shouts when the door is closed.
“Answer my question.”
“What I do is not your business.”
“Don’t fuck with me on this. Why are you visiting Craig Johns?”
“I’ll repeat—none of your business.”
A low, lethal rumble resounds. Anger fills the space as Ace steps to my side, his body tight, eyes hard and almost black.
“I’ll destroy you.”
His harsh and menacing tone has Tera backing up.
“Whatever game you’re playing is over.”
“There is no game.” She straightens her shoulders, but the quiver in her voice gives her away. “I’m merely doing my job.”
“Your job is to deliver coffee and push paper,” I counter.
Her face heats, her eyes flaming with anger. “Fuck you, Ford Whitman.”
“Not in a million fucking years.”
Rejection crosses her features, and she moves toward the door. “This conversation is over.”
Ace holds up his phone, waving it in her direction. “I hit send on this message and your career is done.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be.”
“You do anything to damage my reputation, I’ll sue you for slander.”
Ace glances at me, his mouth curving into a wicked grin. There is no telling what his text message says, but I suspect Harley can spin it to ruin Tera.
“Tera, last chance. Why are you visiting the man who kidnapped Rowan and Jewls?”
“Once he has his day in court, the truth will come out.”
“His day in court? That fucker tell you he’s taking this to trial? He has over a dozen charges against him.”
“Why shouldn’t he? Our justice system still rides on the motto ‘innocent until proven guilty’.”
“His file is sealed.”
She straightens her shoulder with defiance. “His charges are public record.”
“Not all of them. They make deals to protect the privacy of victims.”
“He’s got a story to tell.”
