Page 105 of Hart of Vengeance
“So do I, bro. I’ll be fine. I’ve made my bed.”
No matter how hard Dillon and I tried to help him, he wasn’t going to let us. Duke was as stubborn as they came.
“I’m not taking your penthouse,” I said.
“Too late,” he fired back. “I already put it in your name. And before you protest, saying yes is helping me.” He gave me the impression he was shoring up loose ends in the event he was killed.
A knot formed in my gut. “Okay.” Sometimes there was no arguing with Duke. When he had his mind made up, he wasn’t changing it.
Ted took the cuffs off Jade, and before I could track her, she was throwing her arms around me. “Officer Hughes isn’t taking any of us to jail.”
Thank fuck.I was more relieved she wasn’t going.
Ted came over and took the cuffs off Duke then me.
As soon as my arms were free, I tugged Jade to me. “You okay?”
She flashed her green eyes up at me. “I’m so sorry.”
I edged back and cupped her face. “Sorry?”
She sniffled. “You went to jail for something you didn’t do. Savannah could’ve helped you.”
“She couldn’t. She did what she had to do to protect herself. Tito would’ve killed her.”
She buried her face into my chest and cried.
I rubbed her back. “Shh. Everything will be okay now.” I rested my chin on her head, inhaling her coconut shampoo. “We can move on with our lives.” No more Tito. No running. No fear for Jade’s life. And no fucking Travers. With my name cleared, that meant no parole.
I squeezed Jade to me as my body began to shed six years of hell, one muscle at a time.
Mallory ambled over, looking less pale than she had earlier. “Well, that was fun. Not.”
Jade left me to hug Mallory.
Ted combed his mustache with his fingers. “For now, go home. If I need any of you, I’ll find you.” Ted regarded Dillon. “Can we chat?”
Dillon and Ted walked away.
Duke ambled around the bar. “Anyone want a drink?”
I wasn’t in the mood for liquor, but rather a sexy, black-haired, green-eyed beauty. I wanted to hug and kiss and do many other naughty things to her until we couldn’t breathe.
32
Jade
The rain came down in sheets, pounding on the roof of Dillon’s car as he drove Maggie, Denim, and me to the church. We were having a small service for Savannah.
I bounced my knee while the scenery outside the backseat window sped by. Every time I blinked, I saw flames after flames after flames. I remembered Savannah’s screams vividly. I had been choking on smoke, and Dad had been yelling at me to get my sister out of the house.
I blinked several times to erase the memories. It was eerily chilling that I was burying Savannah around the time of my parents’ death.
I captured a fingernail in between my teeth. “Why does it rain on funerals?” I mumbled to myself.
“The rain is God’s tears,” Maggie said from the passenger seat. “He’s crying for them just like we are.”
A chill blanketed me as I let her words seep in. At Mom and Dad’s funeral, there had been a drizzle of rain, not a steady stream of hard rain. Still, I liked Maggie’s reasoning. In fact, I loved her reasoning. It was poignant yet uplifting and comforting, and for some odd reason, the pain in my chest eased.
