Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“What the hell are you doing here, Mercer?” Reeves spat, his face contorting with shock and rage.
Mercer ignored him, addressing me directly. “Mr. Wheeler, we have enough. Thank you for your cooperation.”
Reeves looked between us, understanding slowly dawning. “Cooperation? What the fuck is this?”
“This,” Mercer said calmly, “is the conclusion of an eight-month Internal Affairs investigation into your misconduct, Detective Reeves. Specifically, your harassment of civilians, fabrication of evidence, and abuse of police resources for personal vendettas. And personal gains.” She gestured vaguely toward my jacket. “What you just confessed to ensures you’ll be fired and likely serve prison time.”
Reeves’ face drained of color before flooding red with fury. “You fucking bitch!” He lunged at Mercer, but I stepped between them, instinctively protecting the woman. The uniformed officers moved quickly, restraining him before he could reach either of us.
“I’m happy to add assaulting an officer to the charges,” Mercer said calmly as they cuffed him. She turned back to me. “You’re free to go, Mr. Wheeler. We may need a formal statement later, but for now I suggest you return to your compound and reassure Ms. English that the threat against her has been taken care of.”
I studied her face, looking for any sign of deception. Finding none, I nodded once and walked away, Reeves’ cursing fading behind me. I didn’t look back. Didn’t need to see him broken. The recording in my pocket was enough.
A block away, Knight’s unmarked van sat in the shadow of a defunct water tower. The side door slid open as I approached, revealing Cora’s pale face, Knight beside her with headphones around his neck. I climbed in, and Cora immediately threw herself against my chest, her arms wrapping around my waist.
“You heard?” I asked, holding her tightly against me.
She nodded against my chest. “Everything. God, Marcus, he was going to --”
“But he won’t,” I cut in gently, tilting her face up to mine. “It’s over, Cora. Reeves is done.”
“And Mercer?” I asked Knight as we pulled away from the curb. “You trust her?”
“Yep,” Knight said without hesitation. “She’s working with Lana Thompson, the lawyer who helps women at the shelter. I called her when we set up the meet with Reeves.”
“Well, you could have warned me, you motherfucker,” I grumbled.
“Now, what would have been the fun in that?”
I pressed my lips to Cora’s forehead, feeling her trembling subside. “Bit cool but the bike’s waitin’ if you want to ride with me.”
She grinned. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”
“Good. Let’s go home.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cora
Three months later…
The stupid dress I wore felt like a straitjacket, clinging to my body in all the wrong places. I tugged at the neckline for the tenth time, willing the fabric to give me just a little more room to breathe. Beside me, Marcus shifted his broad shoulders inside a suit jacket that should have struggled to contain him but was perfectly tailored to his large frame. His jaw worked beneath his thick beard. We made quite the pair outside Jeff Ruby’s Steakhouse in Nashville. The place was ridiculously expensive, but the food was phenomenal. I’d only eaten there once. The day my parents told me they were shipping me off to Europe for school. I hated the place on principle.
Six years since I’d spoken to them, six years of building a life they’d never understand, and now here I stood like a lamb dressed for slaughter. I had no idea how they’d found my phone number, but they’d called a couple days before to set up this meeting and had told me not to bring my new “friends.” They’d known all about Kiss of Death and voiced their disapproval aggressively. I hated exposing Marcus to what I knew would be very judgmental people, but he’d insisted on coming with me, not caring if my parents wanted him there or not. I couldn’t be mad at him for defying my parents’ wishes because I knew If I made it through this evening without throwing up, it would only be because Marcus grounded me with his presence and his touch when I needed it.
“You keep fidgeting with that dress, I’m gonna tear it off you right here,” Marcus muttered, his voice low enough that only I could hear.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” I replied, trying to match his lightness, but my voice trembled. “I’d rather be anywhere but here right now.”
“Say the word, baby, and we’re outta here.”
The valet stand bustled with activity, sleek luxury cars pulling up one after another. A Ferrari. A Bentley. The kind of wealth that once surrounded me like air, so ubiquitous I hardly noticed it until I walked away. Now it felt suffocating and so alien I couldn’t imagine going back to that life.
Marcus turned to me, his large hands sliding around my waist and pulling me close. His touch steadied me even as anxiety twisted my stomach into painful knots. “We get back on my bike, go home, and I can lick every inch of your creamy skin until you beg me to fuck the shit outta you.” His whispered voice was sin in my ear. I wanted to take him up on that promise. God, how I wanted to. But the weight of unfinished business pressed down on me like a stone. I was also sure he wouldn’t let me ride without a helmet back home the way he had here to preserve my hair. I had it up in a high ponytail divided into three sections I’d curled so they lay in spirals down my neck and behind my shoulders. We’d gone slow enough the wind hadn’t been much of a factor and though the air was decidedly cool, we’d ridden slowly down the crowded streets. The brisk temperature had helped me focus on the meeting to come.