Under the Stars

We’re walking fast to the hotel, and my insides are humming. I’m searching my memory for everything I can remember about my time working with Gavin, from my very first job to the night I was dragged out nearly dead, tied up, and thrown into a wooden crate.

Wooden crates I saw loaded onto a barge heading out of Algiers that cold fall morning. How many of those crates held bodies?

My very first job was cleaning up a crime scene. Gavin stood over me and told me I was in his world now, and Landry stood there with that smarmy look on his face, grinning in agreement.

My stomach tightens with disgust. Nothing is worse than a corrupt cop.

He had the crooked pharmacist; he had a money laundering business uptown… None of those help me, because I never kept records of any of it.

Years ago, when I first became a cop and started searching for Lara, I wanted to shut him down, bust him for all the rotten things he’d made me do, for what he’d done to her. But the theater was burned, and I thought everything was gone.

He just blew the lid off that theory. Surveillance cameras. Fucking Landry. If he has one crime on video, he has them all—whatever happened in that room is on camera. All the abuse, Molly’s rape, Lara’s rape, my beating… My fists clench with rage, and one thing is blindingly clear. I’ve got to get back to New Orleans.

Lara keeps pace beside me, her arms tight across her waist. Her dark hair fans around her shoulders, and she seems shell-shocked, spiraling. I want to put my arms around her. I want to tell her to breathe, stay calm, there’s no fucking way in hell I’ll let that asshole take anything from her. Only, I’m not sure she’s ready to hear me.

She looks like a wounded animal who’s cornered, as if she’s afraid I’m going to hurt her, too.

Like I would ever do anything like that.

I need to get her somewhere she feels safe, where she can breathe and tell me exactly what happened, exactly how she killed him.

She killed him…

Swallowing the knot in my throat, I scrub my forehead with my fingers. I’m

having a hard time putting an image to those words in my mind. From the first day I met Lara, she’s always been committed to following the rules. Molly might be bent on revenge, but Lara is not a killer.

Only… if what Gavin said is true, it seems she is.

And once again, she’s kept a pretty fucking serious piece of information from me.

My jaw is clenched so tight, I might break a tooth, and looking up, I’m thankful we’re finally at the hotel. I need answers.

I step forward to hold the door, and she glances up at me as she passes. All these facts are still a storm in my mind, and when she sees the anger in my eyes, she quickly pulls away. Wait until we’re in the room…

The elevator hums as we ride higher. I watch the numbers; she stares at the shiny tiles lining the floor. The chime sounds, and we start down the hallway until she pulls up short.

“I want to get Jillian.” Her voice is soft, but I reach out to catch her arm.

“Just wait. We have to talk first.”

Another wide-eyed look of fear. It twists my guts, but I need to know what she’s thinking. I need to assess if she’s about to run again or if she’s going to let me help her. She has to let me help her, for Jillian’s sake.

For our sake.

Guiding her down the hall, I pull out the card and usher her inside. The heavy door slams shut, and she stops in the center of the room. Her arms are wrapped around her waist, but her back is to me. She’s still shaking, and I slip off my leather jacket, dropping it on the back of the chair.

I go to the mini fridge and take out a small bottle of Jack Daniels. It’s not my favorite, but I need a drink.

“Would you like something?” I ask, and she shakes her head, not meeting my eyes.

I toss back the shot and clear my throat as it burns on the way down. Again, I scrub my fingers against my forehead. I walk around so I’m in front of her, so I can see her expression as we speak.

“Tell me what happened.”

Her brow furrows, and she keeps her eyes fixed on the floor. “Why?”

“Why?” My voice is more forceful than I intend, but our track record on disclosure isn’t the best. “Because I need to know how bad this is.”