“Mr. Cross told me to protect you and get you out of here.” His eyes search mine, although there isn’t a bit of judgment to be found.
“Thank you,” is all I can say although I wrap my arms around myself and contemplate what would have happened if I was in a different mindset. If I was ready to spill my guts. If I was wanting that new life Walsh sold me so well.
I should feel relief, which I do. The more nagging thoughts are of how powerful Jase is. How much damage a single man could do. And how little I know about him. Yet how willing I was to fall for him.
What if I had said something? What then?
“The shirt’s been destroyed and that’s really the only damaging piece he had on you,” Linders tells me, clearing his throat.
The money.
“What about the money?” The question leaves me with haste just as the red light vanishes, blending in with the wall once again.
“Are you going to sit there and deny everything? Maybe I should put you behind bars and see how you like that,” Linders sneers, forcing my body to turn ice cold. I can feel the blood drain from my face, even if I’m consciously aware this time that it’s all an act.
“What’s it going to be, Miss Fawn? Are you going to talk? Or do you want us to stick you in a cell like the criminal you are?” Those are the options he offers me as the door opens and Walsh returns. Walsh’s demeanor is defeated as he motions for Linders to follow him out of the interrogation room.
Linders doesn’t though. He doesn’t obey the command from his superior. He waits for me, wanting to know an answer.
Words get stuck in my throat and I try to swallow them, I try to speak.
Nothing comes. Not a word is spoken as I stare into Linders’ gaze, knowing he’s one of so many men who do Jase’s bidding.
Jase is still here, still in this room, protecting me even when I didn’t know it.
Jase
“It’s risky with the FBI already involved,” Seth speaks from the driver’s seat as we’re parked out front of the police station. His eyes seek mine out in the rearview mirror and I meet them, but I only nod, not bothering to speak. “Four men now, active agents, coming all the way down here from New York.” He sucks his front teeth in the absence of a response from me.
It’s all my fault. It’s my fault she’s in there. I know it is. What I don’t know is what the fuck came over me.
A voice in the back of my head answers instantly. She did. Bethany Fawn came over me.
“We should prepare for someone to take the fall,” Seth continues and a grunt of acknowledgment comes from my chest.
I’ve already been thinking about it. How best to handle this particular fuckup of mine. It involves a dead former FBI agent by the name of Cody Walsh and one of my men in a jail cell taking the fall. Judge Martin will give the minimum sentence. All because I fucked up at a time when fucking up isn’t a possibility.
“Someone who needs the money for their family. Someone who’d go away for a year and be all right with that.” Seth rattles on.
“Chris Mowers,” I finally answer him and then clear my throat although my eyes stay glued to the double doors at the front entrance. “He’s new to the crew, young and seemingly naïve. His dad isn’t doing well. Medical costs and looking out for his mother while he’s serving time should do it. Besides, we’ve primed him for this.” Chris wanted to work for me. I told him to go through the police academy, to earn a position we could use to our advantage. “He’s not going to like it. But we can make it worth it.”
My answer receives a single nod from Seth followed by the impatient tapping of his foot in the front seat.
“You’re too nervous,” I comment. I’m well aware of the consequences and everything at stake in this moment. The nerves he feels are nothing compared to the turmoil rattling inside of me. “Knock it the fuck off.”
With his hand running over his chin he takes in a deep breath, but doesn’t speak. Instead he releases a long sigh.
“You have something on your mind?” I push him.
I start to think he’s going to keep it from me, whatever it is he’s thinking, and then he finally says, “She’s different.”
Bethany. Every muscle in my body tenses at the mere mention of her.
“Yes,” I answer him, feeling a pressure inside of my chest that makes me grit my teeth.
“She’s in your head.” He swallows after speaking.
Narrowing my eyes, I answer him with an acknowledging yes.