Page 136 of Vicious Behaviors
“I can’t believe that the great Marcello Romano was brought down by a piece of pussy.”
I kick the chair back and fling my body toward him. “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that!” I shout, my arms flying in his direction, stretching the full length of the chains.
“Sit your ass down before I call reinforcements,” Haynes scolds, looking far too pleased at getting a rise out of me by only mentioning Izzie.
I sit down and stew in my own fury. He’s right. Izzie was my downfall. I honestly believed she loved me. I let her into my heart, told her all my secrets, only for her to stab me in the back and use them against me later.
Fuck. She chose her badge over me. How did I not see that coming? I was so blinded by love that I firmly believed that every time she told me she loved me last night, it was gospel truth. But it wasn’t. It was just another lie for her to use against me and coax a confession out of me.
Why else would Haynes show up at the gym this morning? Izzie must have told him what I confessed to her last night. Did she even wait for me to leave our bed before she called him?
Fuck. Here I thought we were making vows to each other—ones we would keep for all our days—when in reality, she was just telling me everything I wanted to hear, priming me up touse all my secrets against me. Who needs enemies, when love’s betrayal cuts that much deeper
“I’m not saying another word until my lawyer arrives,” I mutter after composing myself.
Fuck Haynes and his beady little eyes. Izzie might have taken me down, but like hell I’ll let this motherfucker do the same.
“Ifhe arrives,” Haynes cackles, leaving me to doubt that rescue is on its way. “But until then, you’ll stay right here and tell me all I want to know. And don’t bother denying that you didn’t kill the priest. I already have a witness who said you came to him one night with a corpse wrapped around what he described to be a fair linen cloth, much like the ones used to decorate a church altar. I don’t know how good you are at math, but one plus one always equals two.”
That fucking crematory operator snitched. Poor fucker is as good as dead since my father will never allow him to testify against me.
I lean back in my chair and look around the room, the large mirror at the side taunting me.
Is she here? Is Izzie here, watching her boss interrogate me?
“Quit eyeballing the two-way mirror. Your girlfriend isn’t here.” I try not to react to his statement. “This is my show. Not hers,” Haynes adds, yet again opening the folder on the table.
When the fucker went out to grab some coffee, I had a quick look at the files inside. Aside from a witness statement putting me at Sacred Heart on the night of Father McDonagh’s disappearance, Haynes doesn’t have anything else. Then again, he could be keeping whatever proof he does have somewhere else, since there was no mention of the funeral home operator’s sworn statement in there either. The fucker probably left the file on the table on purpose just to toy with me.
Haynes could be just bluffing, thinking I might break if he keeps me here long enough. I’ve lived with worse and stillsurvived. This fucker will not break me. The only one who managed to do that was Izzie. But a broken heart doesn’t equal a confession, and like hell I’ll give him the satisfaction of giving him one.
Haynes continues his taunts until we are interrupted by the door slamming open. A well-dressed, sophisticated woman, who looks like she owns everything in this room—including Haynes’s ass—enters.
“This interrogation is over.”
“What?” Haynes gets out of his chair, stunned. “Director Roderick, what are you doing here? And what do you mean this interrogation is over? I’ve barely started!”
If ten hours of sweating me out in this room is considered ‘barely started,’ then this guy clearly has no concept of endurance or patience.
“You heard me, Haynes. Release Mr. Romano at once.”
Haynes stares at her in disbelief, not moving an inch to get me out of the chains. When Roderick—whom I assume to be his boss—sees his refusal to uncuff me, she snaps her fingers at one of the federal agents standing behind her, who quickly walks over to me, unlocking the cuffs with a master key. Though my wrists are bruised from being cuffed, I don’t rub my fingers on the sore skin, preferring to stand up and leave this fucking room as fast as possible.
“Mr. Romano, on behalf of the Bureau, let me apologize for this mishap.”
I nod, pretending to accept her empty apology.
“We’re going to let this fucker walk?! Why? We were so close!”
“Enough, Haynes,” she silences him. “We’ll have words in a minute. Right now, my presence is needed elsewhere.”
I head toward the exit, letting an arrogant, smug smile crest my lips as I stroll past Haynes. As I reach the hallway, everytense muscle relaxes when my gaze lands on my father. He doesn’t say anything, but I can see the relief in his eyes, too.
“Follow me,” Roderick says, looking at me and my father. “You too, Haynes.” We all follow her down the hall, only stopping when she points to a room. “Though we usually don’t allow persons of interest to watch interrogations, I have been asked to offer you the courtesy.”
Roderick’s authoritarian mask never budges, but I can see in her eyes that she is not pleased with having me and my father here.
“Come,” my father says, entering the dimly lit room with a two-way mirror covering most of the side wall.
