Page 79 of Cocky Jerk

“Give them Bendetti and I’ll get them to cut you a deal. Five years. If you stay out of trouble, you might even be eligible to get out on an early release.”

I have no fucking idea if any of this is feasible.

I’m like a fucking magician.

For my next act, I’ll pull a probation deal out of my hat.

Tank laughs wickedly in my face, and I grimace.

Yeah, man, I don’t buy my bullshit either.

But you can’t blame a guy for trying.

“You said yourself you’re a mediocre cop,” he points out.

About that…it seemed like a good thing to say at the time.

Now, not so much.

“I’m a mediocre cop, but I’m a good guy,” I say, and he raises an eyebrow.

Well, you got his attention.

Don’t drop the ball, dickhead.

“I’m a good guy who loves your daughter,” I blurt.

“You barely know my daughter,” he scoffs.

“How long did it take you to fall in love with her?”

“Seconds.”

“Then you know it’s possible,” I say, pausing for a beat. “Take the deal Tank, and I’ll take care of Antonia.”

It would be my pleasure.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Antonia

Seeing my father be draggedout of the clubhouse in a pair of cuffs wasn’t all that shocking to me. It was normal and if I’m being honest, a relief. It meant his enemies hadn’t caught up to him. It meant one of the bodies on the floor wasn’t his.

It meant there was still time to make things right between us.

He had spent most of his life beating the charges brought against him; I had no doubt he’d beat whatever they were hitting him with now too. Albeit, I don’t recall a time when SWAT was involved, but my dad was alive, and I had faith.

For about a second.

Then my eyes drifted to the man responsible for the shiny cuffs decorating my dad’s wrists. The man I trusted, the one who swore he wasn’t like the others that came before him. The man I thought I could love and would love me in return. Marco was supposed to restore my heart, not break it beyond repair.

There is nothing I hate more than being made the fool, and that’s exactly what I am. A stupid fucking fool who was so thirsty for love and affection, she let her guard down and invited the enemy to her front door. Those bodies I mentioned, all that carnage—I did that.

Me and my foolish heart are the culprits.

And if my dad never sees the light of day again, that’s on me too.

The sound of heels clicking against the linoleum floor catches my attention and I lift my head, spotting their owner immediately. She sticks out like a sore thumb, perfectly posh and filthy rich. I bet those shoes cost more than my Harley.

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