Page 9 of Badges
The last thing I wanted was to hurt someone.
“Help me help you.” He tilts his chin as he watches me. “You aren’t the mastermind. Point me in the right direction, and I can do my best to get you a lighter sentence.”
“What does that mean?” I snap. “How do you know I didn’t think up the whole thing?”
His hands knit in front of him. “Fine. So you hired the men who killed a gas station clerk and raped a young woman this past winter. Also hired two assholes who rustled pert near a hundred head of cattle, thenalsokidnapped two other women. And I can link the drone attacks on ten farms within a fifty mile radius.” He leans forward, glowering. “Because they’re all tied up with a nice little bow. I have solid evidence that your little—” He circles the pile of photos with one thick finger. “—escapades are all done by the same entity.”
Holy shit balls.
He flattens his palms as a snarl curls his copper-colored whiskers. “Montana has the death penalty for this kind of fuckery. If you don’t fess now, that’s where you’re heading.”
No…no…no…
I try to push myself away, but the cuffs hold firmly.
How can he put all of that horrible crap on me? I had nothing to do with it.
He has to be making it up.
“It isn’t true,” I grit, fighting a new wave of nausea. “All that, it wasn’t me.”
Settling into his chair, he tips the broad brim of his hat up on his forehead. “I ain’t sure about that no more. Your momma was a good person, but I suppose sometimes the rotten apples roll away from how they were raised.”
Fear and panic morph into frustration…then anger.
“What do you know about her? She ran like a coward and never faced her demons.” My fists knot, tugging on the sharp edges binding me down. “She couldn’t live like that. She diedwith a fucking needle in her arm in a pile of her own vomit.I had to clean it up!” My voice climbs. “She was too scared to leave the dump we were staying in.I made sure the bills were paid!”
Tears stream my face, a burning rebellion against the thinly veiled hatred that I hold in my guts for her.
She abandoned us.
She gave up.
I won’t.
His jaw clenches and his arms cross his broad chest.
That damn hat drops to cover his eyes, pissing me off even more.
“Who are you to judge me, or my mom? Life is a lot bigger than this redneck town. There are more important things—”
I cut myself off.
He doesn’t need to know about Cynthia. If he did, he’d start snooping.
And then all hell would break loose, while I’m stuck in this hillbilly fever dream.
But I swear, after he wipes his face with his palm, I see the shine of pain in his eyes.
Then that brim hides them, and all I can see is the silver badge.
With a sharp inhale, he stands and snaps the folder shut.
Turning on his boot heel, he silently leaves.
Why is he acting like he cares?
He left the photo of the dead cows sitting in front of me.
