Page 62 of Flame
“Faith came to me scared.” His tone makes me go silent. I’ve never seen him like this—posture so tense he’s trembling, his lips pursed in thought. “She thought I could pull some strings to get her out from under Gino’s thumb. Her parents owed a lot of shit on their house. He gave her the money in exchange for working at his club.”
“But you didn’t give her the money?”
“No,” he admits, his frown deepening. “I didn’t. I pressed her for information instead. And when I learned about the asshole she was dealing with… I called in the raid.”
“And me?” I can barely get the words out. “You knew my ‘boyfriend’ was a cop. Is that the real reason why you were interested in me?”
He sighs. “Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t some fucking soap opera. I was interested in you because I could take one look at you and know there was more to you than some fucking bunny sweater.”
“More,” I echo. “Like my brother being on the police force?”
I’m holding my breath before I realize it, dreading what he might say. As the seconds tick by in silence, I don’t have any other choice but to ask him directly. “Did you want to use me to get to him?”
“And how would I do that, huh?” he demands, raising an eyebrow. “You tell me.”
“Manipulate me,” I say. “Pump me for information. Use me to get back at him. I don’t know—”
“I didn’t know he was your brother,” he insists. “This whole shit was a lot less creepy when you had a fake boyfriend.”
“So, now what?”
“Now?” He inhales, gripping the steering wheel, his gaze determined. “We figure out what the asshole is planning. I don’t think the police are at my place just for some fucking hair pin, bunny.”
He’s right. “You’re their suspect.”
“I can’t even blame them,” he says with a cold laugh. “I’d suspect me too. But they’re looking in the wrong direction.”
“Because Faith had another phone,” I finish for him. Another realization dawns on me as I watch him nod. “And you know where it is.”
“That night you saw her at my place? She gave it to me then. The phone that matters anyway.”
I can clearly recall that moment in his warehouse.
“Why didn’t you turn it in?” I ask. “Why didn’t you—”
“I’m not turning shit in until I know for sure what’s on it,” he counters. “I’m not letting anyone whitewash this case.”
“So, what did you find?”
He grits his teeth in a rare display of vulnerability. “Nothing. It’s locked. Password-protected, and I’m already on my last try. She never actually told me what it is. I thought it might be the guy’s name, but DW hasn’t worked. Go fucking figure.”
I suck in a startled breath. “Is that really why you had the police roster?”
He nods, oblivious to my shock. “Call me Sherlock Holmes, bunny. But DW must be an alias or some shit. Or she was lying about him being a cop at all.”
Or ‘DW’ didn’t stand for the culprit’s initials in the way he expected.
“Her phone was supposed to hold whatever information she had,” he adds. “Don’t ask me what. She was vaguer than you when it came to detail.”
“Show me?”
I can’t describe the way he looks at me. Impressed? Guarded? “You think you can crack it when I couldn’t?”
I don’t answer. Maybe because if my hunch is correct, it could change everything, the final nail in the coffin.
If I’m right, my life, or my family, will never be the same.
“Bunny?” Rafe prods, nudging my shoulder.
“Just show me,” I whisper. I don’t sound confident in the slightest. Just resigned.
“I’ll take you there. I put it somewhere safe,” Rafe says, putting the car back into gear.
Warily, I ask, “Where?”
But I can guess the destination before he even says it out loud.
The one place he seems to frequent even more than his shop.
