Page 85 of Hart of Vengeance
Duke sighed. “I didn’t know she’d been there until two months ago. She called from prison, begging me for money. I knew if I didn’t at least talk to her, she would continue to call me. So I went to see her. I told her you might be getting out, and she cried. She said you should’ve never been sent to prison.” He swallowed. “Then she told me what she saw that night.”
Madness enveloped me. My head was spinning. My blood was boiling. I dug my nails into the palms of my hands just to be sure I was still alive.
“She’d just entered Hector’s building when she heard a gunshot,” Duke said. “Scared, she bolted and hid in the shadows across the street. She didn’t want anyone to see her. A few minutes later, she saw Tito leave the building.”
I stopped pacing, and every limb in my body locked up tightly.
What the fuck? What the actual fuck?
My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and something large and sandy was lodged in my throat. Savannah could’ve saved me from going to prison, or at the very least, my case wouldn’t have been so open and shut.
I swished saliva from side to side to get my tongue working.
“Who else knows this?” Dillon asked.
There was no way Jade knew. She would’ve forced Savannah to go to the cops with that information. Or maybe she wouldn’t have. She hated me for leaving her.
Duke shrugged. “As far as I know, no one but her and now me.”
I was breathing fire. My mind tried to form a coherent thought other than a jumbled mess of speculation and revenge. In that moment, my veins burned like an inferno because I wanted so badly to put a bullet into Tito’s head.
Hold up. You don’t know if he actually did it.
Something careened through me, thawing my brain. “Why do the Feds think you were at Hector’s that night? Is that fact or fiction?”
Duke didn’t flinch. “I have no idea. Savannah did have my car that night. Maybe the Feds reopened your case, knowing you were up for parole, and wanted to get you to help them. They discovered that tidbit and used it to get you all fired up.” He took a breath. “Besides, if I was there and someone saw me and told the cops or Feds, they would’ve questioned me around the time of the murder. No one did.”
I set my jaw, trying to figure out if he was telling me the truth. “You told me you believed I killed Hector.” The heated words we’d exchanged during our reunion were flashing like a neon sign before me.
“You pissed me off,” Duke said as a matter of fact. “I swear on Grace’s life I didn’t kill Hector.”
Dillon regarded me. “He’s telling the truth.”
I studied Duke. He didn’t have that cold scowl, but rather he had a pleading look. Given the way he’d paled when Dillon had thrown out Grace’s name earlier, I knew he wouldn’t use Grace as a crutch to lie.
I grabbed the back of my neck as I returned to my seat. “Tito set me up. Motherfucker. And I bet he paid the neighbor to take a hike or worse, killed her, so she wouldn’t tag him for the murder. Yet I’m curious why Savannah didn’t come clean when it happened. Her testimony could’ve saved my ass.”
“She was afraid for her life,” Duke said.
“So it makes sense, then, that Tito had Savannah killed in prison,” Dillon added.
Duke dragged a hand along his jaw. “Maybe, but not because she saw him. Otherwise, he would’ve killed her six years ago.”
“Not unless he found out recently,” I said. “Prisons are notorious for eavesdroppers. Anyone could’ve overheard your conversation.”
Regardless of our speculation, one thing was certain—Tito was going down. And I knew exactly what I had to do.
26
Jade
Iset my bag on a queen bed in Duke’s guest room.
Denim had convinced me I would have full reign of the penthouse without Duke, and honestly, I hadn’t protested much. Coupled with Savannah’s death and getting shot, I felt like a rag doll. I was surprised I’d made it from the cab into the elevator and then into the penthouse. If it weren’t for Denim holding me, I might’ve collapsed.
Clutching my chest, I sat down on the plush mattress. The doctor had cleared me to go home with the caveat that I take it slow. I’d learned the bullet had hit a muscle above my right breast. He’d said muscles take longer to heal. His parting words were, “Only do what you can.”
I didn’t need to do much in the way of physical activity, except I needed a shower desperately. I’d been a bit embarrassed to be so close to Denim. My body needed a good scrubbing, and my hair needed to be washed a hundred times to get all the oil out of it. But a shower might have to wait. I wanted to sleep. I’d taken a pain pill before I left the hospital. I gently eased back in bed until my head was on the pillow. Maybe I could catch a quick nap before Denim returned.
