Page 102 of Axe-ing for Trouble
Head tilted, she waited, her focus remaining fixed on me. “What did you and your brother do?”
I ran my hand through my hair, collecting my thoughts. My hope had been that she wouldn’t find out about this until everything was over and dealt with. But now that she knew, I’d have to fill her in.
“Owen is kind of a big deal in Boston.” I sighed. “He’s connected. Like hangs-out-with-billionaires-regularly connected. Some of whom sit on the board of that hospital.”
“What did you tell him?” she gritted out. “We don’t want charity—”
I grabbed her shoulder gently. “It’s not charity. If not for my dad, Hugo wouldn’t have been hurt. So when I told Owen, he jumped at the chance to help.”
She responded by letting out a heaving sob and collapsing into my arms.
I pulled her close, conscious of her still naked state and willing my cock to behave.
“I wish I could see them,” she said, her tears running down my chest. “Hug my mom and tell both of them how sorry I am. How I fucked up.”
My stomach twisted. “You didn’t fuck up.”
“My mom gave up her life to be by his side every day. She speaks to him in French and reads novels for hours on end to stimulate his brain. She’s incredible.”
“You gave up your life too. And you’ve made big sacrifices. We’re so close to finishing this. You will see them soon.”
She clung to me, and I rubbed circles on her back, wishing I had the power to do more, to fix every one of her problems, to ensure that she and her family never had to worry again.
After a few moments, she took a step back. “I can’t believe I’m standing here naked and sobbing on you. I’m sorry.”
Affection bloomed inside me. “I don’t mind.”
“I’m so happy and sad at the same time. And also a little annoyed at you.”
I wrapped her in my arms, resting my chin on her head. “Let’s focus on the happy part. He’s doing well, and he’s got the best care team in the world. You single-handedly broke Dickie Perkins yesterday and have him on record admitting to a criminal conspiracy.”
She looked up at me, her teary eyes shining with victory. “And Maine is a one-party consent state.”
I swiped at her damp cheeks with my thumbs. “That’s my girl.”
After coffee, omelets, and a joint shower that went on until the water ran cold, we set up in the spare room, listening to the conversation with Dickie. Mila uploaded it to the cloud folder where she kept the research she’d share with law enforcement, and I studied the photos and maps, trying to make sense of what we’d learned. A multi-million-dollar opioid industry was dependent on the status of a bat species?
I shook my head. Only in Maine.
“We’ve found the route from the border at Sainte-Louise,” she said. Spinning in her ergonomic chair. “And we know how they’re cutting through the forest. They’ve got almost a hundred miles of abandoned road at their disposal. But there has to be a pickup point, right?”
I nodded.
“So the protected area ends here.” She pointed to the region on the map. “That’s still miles from any main road. How are they getting out of the forest and onto the highways to distribute?”
“Probably on ATVs or snow machines,” I suggested.
“But wouldn’t that make them obvious?”
“Yes and no. Depends on the season and the location. Some of the public trails are pretty busy.”
She spun around again and straightened in the chair. “Could we go see?”
I frowned at her. “See what?”
“This area.” She pointed to a piece of our territory that was northwest of town.
“Why?”
