Page 50 of Hard Game

“I—”

“Do you know who they are? Where they live? Where they sleep? Who they’re fucking? What they eat?” Tassa’s voice has dropped, and I see her for what she is: a damaged, angry woman. “Because that’s what you need to know about the ring. Your knowledge of their existence means fuck all.”

I open my mouth to speak but realize she’s hurting, and the best thing I can do is try to get information from her, not argue. Even though I want to demand she tell me what she knows, I know she won’t. My eyes flicker to Maddox, who’s still watching me with that unreadable expression, and I straighten my shoulders. “I know you’re angry and upset?—”

“You think?” Tassa snaps, her eyes wild.

“But I need you to tell me what you know, or if you can’t do that, tell me what you remember about the last time you saw Zia. Because that’s why I’m here, Tassa. For Zia.”

I meet her gaze head-on, and she clenches her jaw before looking at Maddox over her shoulder. They have a silent conversation before she turns back to me.

“The last time I saw Zia,” she stumbles over her name, and pain stretches over her face before she continues. “Was in the morning. Before she went to work.”

I nod, then Elijah says, “Did you hear from her after that?”

Tassa clasps her hands together and exhales. I’ve seen this before—with my father. She’s in agony, and I hate that we have to ask her these questions. But we aren’t going to find these bastards without information.

“Just a text to say she would grab us some Chinese food for dinner.” Tassa clamps her lips together and closes her eyes.

“That’s the last time you heard from her?” I ask gently, glancing over at Maddox. He gazes back at me wordlessly, and I want to grab him by the throat and demand he tell me what he knows.

“Yes.” Tassa rises to her feet and waves a hand at the door. “That’s all I know. You can go.” She disappears into the doorway she came from, and the door slams behind her.

Maddox winces before looking over at me. “I’ll show you out.”

“Maddox—” I begin as Elijah steps forward, staring at Maddox.

“I know about Taron.”

My heart skips a beat when Maddox smiles coldly.

“What about Taron?”

“Elijah,” I say, grabbing my partner by the arm and pulling him back. “No. Now is not the time.”

“If you gave a shit about her,” Elijah says, jutting his thumb behind him to me. “You wouldn’t have done that. In her fucking apartment, no less. You jeopardized her career, asshole.”

Maddox meets my gaze and shrugs like he doesn’t give a shit about me, and it hurts. Not that he’s ever claimed to care; I just assumed.

“Detective Jonewood, isn’t it?” He rises to his feet and Elijah backs away so they’re staring at each other. I half expect them to start circling one another like wolves do, but they don’t. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut, and as I told Detective Diess here, keep looking for burglars and muggers. Leave the bad shit alone.”

“Fuck you!” Elijah growls, his fists bunching at his sides. “You know who these fuckers are, and you could tell us. What’s Alastor’s surname, huh? Why don’t you share your knowledge with the people to have the power to put these bastards away for life rather than going around like a fucking vigilante?”

I grip Elijah’s arm tighter and pull him back as Maddox stares at him, contemplating his next move. I begin to tremble, knowing full well that Maddox would have zero problem shooting my partner here and now, and within an hour, there would be no evidence.

“You could stop this shit,” Elijah continues through gritted teeth. “You could stop these deaths?—”

Maddox bares his teeth in a cruel smile. “What is the point in your job, Detective? You can’t find the bad guys, and if you do, you put them in a jail cell and give them a TV and access to more drugs than they had on the outside. The way I see it, you’re failing, and you want me to help you.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Except you’ve got no manners, and you don’t know how to ask. What if I told you that everything I know has been handed to your boss on a silver fucking platter, and you’re still running around like headless chickens. How about that, huh?”

I turn to stare at Maddox, who glances at me briefly before continuing.

“Yeah, Detective. Maybe ask your boss.”

“You’re the informant,” Elijah says, shaking his head. “Aren’t you?”

My head spins. Maddox is the informant?

Maddox?

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