Page 2 of The Best of Us

Now that we knew about these pills, we couldn’t overlook there was a new guy in town, a bigger fish than Daniel, selling fentanyl-laced ecstasy tablets.

I tossed the bag in disgust, went to the window, and knocked, letting him know I was back. Palm to the glass, I sipped my whiskey while looking on.

Daniel was shirtless and barefoot, his wrists bound overhead, and his ankles tied by rope, feet touching the floor. I assumed Hudson had already given him hell for what he’d done to Blair. The stain at the front of his jeans suggested he’d pissed himself. Doubt he got his rocks off on being interrogated, but who the hell knew?

“Trust me when I say you’d rather talk to me than the man on the other side of the mirror.” Hudson stared at him through the eye holes of his balaclava ghost mask.

We were both from high-profile families, so we had to hide our faces whenever possible. His father was the governor, and my family ran one of New York’s wealthiest corporate empires. We’d make front-page headlines if word got out we took down criminals in our spare time.

Daniel twisted his neck, looking over at the mirror. “The guy who hunted me is here?” He returned his attention to his current problem.

Hudson answered him with a nod.

“You’re not cops or DEA agents. So, who are you?”

“Consider us concerned citizens.” Hudson offered a politer response than I would have. “You’ve given your word never to lift a hand to a woman again, and you know what will happen if you break that promise. Now, I need to know who you’re working for.” He unsheathed the knife strapped to the side of his cargo pants.

If Daniel’s common sense were ever to return (if he had any in the first place), now would be the time. Hudson didn’t fuck around. Same as me.

“Nah, man. I can’t talk about that.” Daniel spit out blood.

“Fine.” Hudson shrugged. “You’re just some street-corner dealer, right? I suppose your boss won’t notice if you don’t show up.”

“You have no idea who you’re messing with,” he snarled, and more blood came from his mouth along with his words.

Shouldn’t have made me run.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell us, then?” Hudson kept his tone casual, circling him.

“You’re treating me like a terrorist,” he said instead of answering. “Ain’t this a little extreme for drugs and that, uh . . . other thing?”

Other thing? Hitting a woman?I rotated my neck side to side, doing my best to dial down my anger before I got blood on my clean shirt. I’d rather not change again.

“Extreme, really?” Hudson scoffed. “Tell that to the parents of the kid you said almost died last week.”

Daniel’s throat bobbed, his expression flickering between remorse and fear. “You just don’t understand.”

Hudson dragged the tip of his blade along the man’s sternum, slow and deliberate. “Then help us understand.”

A quick check of my watch confirmed I was already late for my date. Time to speed this up.

Setting down my whiskey, I knocked at the glass again, signaling to Hudson I was stepping in.

I undid the top two buttons of my white dress shirt. Spectacular color to wear for this. Then I rolled the sleeves to my elbows before covering my head and face with the same mask I’d had on earlier.

Door open, no weapon in hand, I remained standing there without fully entering the space.

Daniel’s green eyes immediately flew to my forearms, and his breath hitched. “Your scars.”

I followed Daniel’s line of sight to the jagged marks—permanent reminders of my past imprinted on my arms. Mostly along the insides where the skin was thinner, the pain deeper. The physical scars would always be there, but the invisible ones? They were the real burden.

“Is that what you plan to do to me if I don’t tell you what I know? What kind of good guys are you?”

“Who said we’re the good guys?” My voice came out calm and measured. Any trace of my Sicilian accent was buried beneath my mask. I took one step forward, the door closing behind me, and it had him breaking.

“Fine.” He’d rushed out the word as if it had been forced from his lungs. “I, uh . . . don’t know who’s running things. I’ve never met him in person.”

He lifted his head, a plea in his eyes to believe him.

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