AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But just one look into my eyes, and I know he’ll know better.
Still…
“If Malone knows I care about you, Rory…” He swallows, his Adam’s apple shifting in his throat. “If he knows, I’m gonna be removed from this case so fucking fast, our heads will spin.”
“So stop caring.” I push up to sit and reach across to the bedside table where a box of tissues taunt me. Almost prophetic, knowing this moment would come as I snatch a couple and blow my nose. “Do your job,” I murmur. “Don’t let it be your skull they deliver to me.”
“I’ll take care of me. And I’ll take care of you, too. Clean up,” he adds, opening the door to step out. “Come down when you’re ready to rejoin society.”
“Yeah.” I exhale a gentle breath as he strides through the door and into the hall outside, but when he’s gone and the door shuts at his back, I lie down again and weep. I turn to my side and draw my legs up, hugging them to my chest and stifling my cries so no one comes looking for me.
So I can have this moment alone.
Just me and my mom.
And now that she’s gone… it’s just me.
* * *
I make my way downstairs a little later. I don’t know how long I stayed in my room, but my thigh aches as I traverse the stairs, and my heart feels heavy.
Heavier than I’ve ever felt it.
“Paine was the medical examiner,” Archer murmurs from somewhere else in the house. Maybe the kitchen, as I amble my way closer. “He was a thirty-year veteran,” he continues, unaware of the extra ears listening in. “He bounced around throughout his career, lasting no more than a handful of years at any one place. Two years here, three years somewhere else. He was sitting around eighteen months at his facility back when Vallejo was taken out. Seems Paine wasn’t opposed to a little financial remuneration for favors.”
“So he fudged the papers?” Drake’s hard tone is dangerous. Dark. A voice I’d forgotten he possessed over the last few days. “Took a little cash in the left hand, and signed dodgy papers with the right?”
“Seems that way,” Archer agrees. “His reputation amongst his colleagues over the years says he was a creep. A lazy fucker. And not one doing the job for the sake of the patient.”
“So he held a well-respected job and a position of power,” Drake concludes. “And if his reputation preceded him, then men like Vallejo knew he could be bought.” He exhales a frustrated sigh and scratches his hair. I don’t have to be in the room to know he does that. I see it perfectly in my mind. “He was a gun for hire just as much as the Malones are.”
Archer releases a growl from somewhere deep in his chest. “You’re gonna stop inserting my family name into this fucking investigation, Banks. I’m not them, and I’ve never fucked with you.”
“You’re the son of a don,” Drake laughs. Though the sound lacks any trace of humor. “Your older brother iscurrentlyrunning the empire. This isn’t aused to besituation, Malone. Felix was on the news just a week ago for some shit he claims he didn’t do.”
“Felix and I share a father. We don’t share a bed, a bank account, or secrets.” Archer’s chair scrapes along the tile floor, confirming they’re in the kitchen. So I tiptoe closer and slow when thesuckof the fridge seal becomes audible. “I disliked my father as much as you dislike yours. So unless we’rebothgonna play the ‘we’re guilty for our father’s sins’ game, then I’m telling you to shut the fuck up on the Malone shit and move on.”
“And if I don’t?” Drake taunts. “If I wanna dig in nice and deep and make sure the entire world knows exactly who you are?”
I peek around the corner, and though I remain hidden by the wall, I still manage an unobstructed view of Archer’s smug grin as he turns from the fridge. “Then Felix Malone would love to drop in and say ‘hey’. You’ve met, right?” He slams the fridge shut and sets a soda on the counter. “You were even friends once.”
My heart stutters in my chest, not because Archer threatens Drake’s life, but because Drake finally finds that humor we’ve been missing and barks out a laughdespitethe threat. “I’m not them,” he parrots. “They’re not me. But if you don’t stop picking on me, I’m gonna call my big brother and have him whack you.”
Archer pulls out his stool and slides back down, though his smile is friendly. “Just laying it out for you, Detective. Nothing is ever black and white, and no one born into the mob life is ever trulyallthe way out.”
“So you admit it?” Drake leans across and steals the other cop’s drink, popping the seal and taking a swig. “You admit you’re still mafia?”
“No. But family is family, and no matter how far I go to escape the life, they’ll still safeguard the name. So if you wanna take a run at Malone, then I guess that’s your prerogative. I won’t cry at your funeral. Shit,” he laughs, setting his elbows on the counter and looking across at Drake. “I probably won’t even go to the funeral.” Sobering, like the reminder smacks him almost as hard as it hits me, he lowers his voice and leans a little closer to Drake. “How’s she doing?”
“Her mother is dead.” He says it so callously. So matter of fact. “She didn’t get to be with her in person. She missed the last week of her mother’s life, and had to say goodbye on the phone.” He takes another sip, before setting the can down again. “She watched her mother die on a video call, Malone. So how the fuck do you think she is?”
I don’t want them to talk about me. I don’t want them to talk about my mom. So I push away from the wall and make my steps audible—step, shuffle, limp—as I trudge into the kitchen and pretend I don’t notice the way Archer straightens in surprise, while Drake makes no move at all.
He’s not shocked I’m here the way Archer is.
“Ms. Swanson.” Archer brushes his shirt down, fussing almost like my appearance makes him nervous. “Did we bother you with our talking?”
“No.” I make my way past Drake and keep several feet away, almost like if we’re within touching range, Archer will somehow know about my feelings for the man tasked with keeping me alive. Or maybe he’ll know about Drake’s feelings for me. “Do we know anything new about Vallejo since we last talked?”
