Page 92 of Hart of Vengeance
I could seek out the cop who’d arrested me. Dillon knew Officer Ted Hughes well. Apparently, Ted was like a father to Maggie. I tucked that tidbit in my back pocket and made a mental note to text Dillon. I had to cover all my bases in the event the Feds wouldn’t play.
My goal was to clear my name, and with my newfound information that Tito could’ve murdered his brother, I didn’t need the neighbor as a witness.
If Tito doesn’t talk, you might. I would cross that bridge when I got to it.
Killing two birds with one FBI agent would be cleaner and easier than bringing in more cops. We could satisfy Travers, and I could finally see the real murderer go to prison.
“Let’s not forget you’re acting as my parole officer,” I continued. “Aren’t you supposed to help me?” The main role of a parole officer was to help ex-cons with things like finding a job and a place to live. They were even supposed to help the person deal with old problems, and Tito was an old problem.
His expression was far from pleased. “Who will be at this meeting?”
I knew he was salivating to hear Duke’s name. “Myself, Duke, Tito Alvarez, and one of his guys.” When I’d called Tito the day before, we had agreed to keep the meeting small.
Travers perked up. “Duke, huh? I’m surprised, Hart. You mean I might get Duke after all?”
I shrugged. It was possible. But our meeting was to discuss guns, and that alone wouldn’t put Tito or Duke behind bars. However, I wasn’t about to piss off Travers by goading him. He would learn soon enough that Duke wouldn’t be present when the guns came in.
“I just want to be clear about something,” I said. “The written agreement you’d sent to my lawyer stated that I needed to give you a time and place of a gun shipment. If I do, my record will be cleared. Is that accurate?” When I’d stopped by Kelton’s office the previous day, I’d read the formal agreement a few times to make sure I understood what was expected of me. Then Kelton had explained that as long as Tito delivered the time and place, then I was in the clear. The letter didn’t call out any names in particular either.
Travers sat back. “That’s correct. Are you confident Tito will give you that info?”
Not at all.“Honestly, I’m not sure.” If I could at least get Tito to confess to the murder, then I wouldn’t need the Feds holding their terms over my head. “Are you in to wire me up or not?”
“This is your one shot,” he said. “But you better get me that info.”
I shook my head. He was a Class A dick, still making idle threats. “I’m trying here, Travers.” The fucker had to see that. “I want you off my back. I want to go home and make love to my girl. I want to find a job. And above all else, I want my friends and family to know I didn’t kill anyone.” The people in my life already knew that, but still, having a clean record was more important to me than guns and drugs.
28
Jade
After Denim left, I made myself busy in the kitchen, trying to keep my mind off our conversation. I knew he loved me, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t walk away again. Doubt was my worst enemy, and I knew his actions would speak louder than his words. His actions the last couple of days had been nothing short of a boy who was in love with a girl.
I shrugged off the niggle of doubt, and as I prepared a mug of coffee, I replayed the night before over and over and over in my head. His lips had been sinfully inciting, his tongue masterfully pleasing, and his dick huge and gratifying. I’d wanted to go for round two, but he’d declined. I had almost pouted, but I understood he’d wanted to let me rest. I had a feeling he was hurting from all his cuts and bruises too.
In addition to the great sex, if anything could erase my uncertainty, it was how Denim and I connected. It was as though we’d never broken up. We had talked about high school, when we’d first met, and the good times we’d had. He’d asked me about my life, and I’d asked him about prison. He’d held me the entire night, and I doubted he’d gotten any sleep because every time I’d moved or turned over, he was caressing my arms or kissing my head.
Sighing, I brought the mug up to my mouth, and another shiver racked my body as my stomach growled. I realized I hadn’t eaten much in days.
I set my coffee down on the counter and rummaged through the cabinets. Then I remembered that Duke had no food in the house. I was in the mood for a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, and even pancakes. I’d barely touched any of the hospital food they’d given me.
I could dash out and pick up some groceries. But on second thought, Mallory was due there in an hour. She could stop by the coffee shop near our office. I would settle for an egg-and-bacon sandwich or even one of their fresh bagels.
I collected my phone from the counter and sent her a text to ask if she would bring food.
Mallory:For sure.
Then with the coffee mug in my hand, I set out to explore more of Duke’s abode. My bare feet slapped on the hardwood as I traveled down the wide hall to the other five rooms aside from the one I was staying in.
But as I tried to open each door, I found the first two locked. The third door was a guest bathroom. The fourth door was also locked. I was about to give up and return to the kitchen when I noticed the last door at the end of the hall was ajar, something I hadn’t noticed when I’d arrived the night before. However, as tired as I’d been, I hadn’t noticed much.
With my curiosity piqued, I pushed in the door, slowly and tentatively. I didn’t think Duke was home. Denim had told me Duke would be staying at his club, The Monarch.
I poked in my head. “Hello,” I called out.
No one answered.
I trudged into the black-and-red room, complete with a king-size bed, large-screen TV hanging on one wall, a dresser, a couch, and a doorway to an en suite bathroom.
