He watches me as I struggle with the frustration of it all.
“And you’re wondering what if she’s lying to you?”
“No. I’m wondering what if she really didn’t? What if she went through that shit because I didn’t give her a chance?” The words escape me with more emotion than I’d like.
“You really think they could have possibly gotten it any other way? You were the one who set it up and for good reason.”
“She’s not dumb, but she can be naïve and maybe something happened where she didn’t mean it and she didn’t realize what she was doing.”
“The odds of that are slim, Declan.”
“I’m aware … So here we are,” I say, then gesture to the monitors and right on cue, Mike and Brian appear on the screen, walking side by side in expensive suits down the hall.
My pulse races. “I fucking hate this.”
“The things we do for love,” Carter murmurs.
“Whatever happens—”
“She’s yours. I won’t tell a soul and whatever you’d like to do with her, whether it was an accident, whether she’s actively working with them … whatever you want to do, she is yours for you to deal with.” He pats my shoulder once before leaning back in his seat. “I’m only here because you asked me to be.”
I face the screen just as they walk in, and rub the back of my neck as if that will keep the nerves from wreaking havoc. “We don’t have to do this,” Carter reminds me.
“No. She said she didn’t do it. If she’s working with the feds … well, then we’ll know.”
Be my good girl, Braelynn.
I don’t know what I’ll do if she fails this. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to look my oldest brother in the eye again if she takes this bait.
BRAELYNN
The moment it seems as if the morphine has kicked in, and all of the pain and soreness vanishes, two men walk into the room unannounced.
No knock, no warning.
I only realize they’re cops when the one on the left holds up his badge and tells me he’s Detective Barlowe and his partner is Detective Hart. Both of the men are clean-shaven, in sharp suits and with fresh haircuts. The taller one, Hart, seems older; he’s a Black man with wrinkles around his eyes and so far, he’s been quiet. It’s his counterpart, a younger white guy with sharp hazel eyes who’s doing all of the talking.
My stupid heart races and the monitor displays that truth all too loudly, with the incessant beepingpicking up.Shit, shit, shit.
“No need to be nervous, Ms. Lennox, we just have some questions for you.”
All I can think is:Fuck. This.My heart hammers and the beeping continues to reveal my agitated state. Irritation overwhelms me to the point that I want to rip off the pulse oximeters, and it takes everything in me not to. Instead I focus on calming down.
I can handle this. It’s going to be okay. Declan is going to be back any moment.
The back of my eyes prick, wondering what Declan will think. Wondering if he’ll believe me.
“I’m sick,” I tell them bluntly but they don’t stop. They both step closer, surrounding me on either side of my bed.
“We heard … do you have time to answer our questions?” Detective Barlowe asks.
“I’m very tired and I don’t think—” I start but again, they don’t take the hint.
“We’ve cleared it with the doctor and this will just take a moment.” Detective Hart speaks up for the first time, his voice far more commanding and low, seductive even. He catches me off guard.
Swallowing thickly, I answer, “Just one second, please.”
I start to pull the covers down and then ask them for privacy. “Just a moment, please. I’m very hot.” Ever the gentlemen, they turn. “Let us know when you’re ready.”