Page 61 of Shattered Love

She plays with the edge on the file.“Yes.”

I nod, looking at the floor before back to her. “I've been through that case a thousand times. There’s nothing in there.” I rub my face with hand. “I don't even know why I’m fucking telling you this shit.”

She steps forward. “No gun was ever found and no eye witnesses.”

I grind my jaw. I know what that file says. It was like the bullets had appeared out of nowhere. On a busy street no one saw anything and a weapon was never found.

She bites her bottom lip again.

I decide it's a thing she does when she thinking.

“What about the phone records? There something that's just not right. Plus, they were not in the original file. It’s like someone took them and then replaced them.”

She quickly sifts through the file. Pulling out the piece of paper, she points to the highlighted area. It was Molly and Avery’s conversation.

I close my eyes. I can almost hear Avery’s voice as Lettie reads it. She comes to the last line. “Oh no what's he doing.”

She looks up at me.

I take a step back and stumble as I grip the desk. “No, that’s wrong. Because if it’s right, that means…” I try to control my breathing, I look up to her and her face softens.

She swallows, and tear falls down her cheek. “Your wife knew her killer.”

My vision doesn't go black. It goes bright fucking red.

* * *

The cheersof the crowd are so loud, I can't hear any fucking thing. I sit in the office away from it from it all. If I win this fight, I get my meeting with Braxton.

It has been a month since I destroyed my office and left the police force for good. Everything in me knows Braxton is the key to all this.

“Fuck, have you seen the crowd?” Benny frowns, looking out the window and watching as people start to spread money like wild fire. He comes back to face me and circles another three times. “Fuck Benny, sit down.”

He looks at me before sitting on the edge of an old desk.

Tonight, the fight is in a run-down shoe business that went bankrupt a few years back, and everything in this office is moth bitten or fucking broken.

He rubs a hand through what is left of his hair and lets out a long sigh. “Dominic, where you’re going after you meet Braxton? You’re begging for a visit to hell.”

I try to hide the smirk that tries to creep onto my face. I look up at him. “I'm already there.”

He studies me a little more before he nods. “If I had the place, I’d give it to you and let you walk away from all this.” I narrow my eyes, sitting straighter.

He’s hiding something.

“What are you not telling me, Benny?”

He rubs a hand through his almost bald hair. “They know you’re sniffing around. They've kicked in one of their own. It was the only way to get the meet.”

I nod slowly. I know what he’s telling me is that this fight isn't a normal fight. It’s a death fight. Only one person is walking away.

I keep my face cold as I stand up, smacking my hands together and warming them up. There is still a tinge of soreness in my left cheekbone from the last fight and my fucking shoulder is in pain from beating the bag the last few days, things the other fighter will look for. He’ll probably go for those spots, though I have a strong punch and if I get the right swing, I can do some damage. More than anything, I have been waiting for this fight for the last twenty years.

Benny smacks a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Just called a marker. This fighter is slow, but he's heavy weight. A bald fucker. They call him Silas. He killed the last few men he was put in the ring with. Whatever you’re fucking after, they are hell-bent on keeping you away.”

I shake my shoulders out, rolling my neck. Jumping from foot to foot.

“He got a bad arm a few years ago in a fight.”

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