Chapter 1

Joaquin hadn"t been placed in the same car. They"d correctly assumed that we would have been able to communicate. Not that that really mattered at this point. We had too much experience working together, and our shit locked down too tight for this to be an issue.

"So," the man who"d introduced himself as Agent Barton started, "you don"t seem nervous at all. Why is that?"

He was every stereotype in the book. Sharp eyes and coffee breath. Slight paunch and bad comb over. Agent Barton also had the stink of ambition around him. I bet he defined himself by the cases he closed, and his biggest failures were the cases he fumbled.

I could work with that.

One side of my mouth curled up into a slight smirk. I turned toward the window to hide it as his gaze burned into the side of my head through the rearview mirror.

What did he expect me to say? That I was a psychopath? I wasn"t. Just the product of a fucked-up childhood.

"You"re familiar with my past, correct?" I turned back, the expression wiped from my face. As much as this was bullshit, the last thing I needed was for him to peg me as a cocky little asshole. That would only make this farce ten times harder, and that wasn"t the type of pain I was into.

"I am, Mr. Wright. It"s hard not to be aware of the unfortunate start to your childhood when two of your friends are constantly in the public eye."

That wasn"t true. Atlas and Kim did the bare minimum required in the spotlight. More like Agent Barton constantly saw them in ads and on billboards.

"Then you"re aware that I was personally held by the Curator for years. At least two as far as I can remember." It wasn"t a question, but I still paused.

"I am," he agreed.

"That was a living nightmare. I"m sure you can appreciate that nothing in my life after the day I was released has affected me as much as that. Any fear you"re trying to lay at my feet, it won"t work. You or your false charges, or even the veiled threats you"re trying to dance around, can"t scare me the way Gates did when I was a child." I clenched my jaw, my heart rate accelerated, pumping anger through my veins.

I itched to dig my fingernails in my legs but I couldn't. Not with them handcuffed together. I could pull on them though. Let the metal bite just the tiniest bit into my wrists.

"Lucky for you that the Curator is dead then, huh, Mr. Wright?" He shifted in his seat. It wasn"t a movement of discomfort, but came through more as a thinking tick. He was thinking about how to spin this conversation to catch me up in a lie. "If the facts didn"t state he was murdered when you were kids, you"d be at the top of our suspect list for that too. Not that I"d blame you." He shrugged. "The man was an evil the world is better off without."

I raised my brows. Did this asswipe really expect me to say something that would put me in the shallow box he was trying to back me into? "If you"re looking for sympathy on his death, I don"t have it. If you"re looking to characterize me by attempting to weasel out what I would do if I had ever met him as a man, I can"t help you there either. I don"t dwell on the past. No point in it."

He harrumphed. Barton didn't believe me. I didn't blame him, I didn't believe me either.

"Given the delicate situation of your...friends' success, we"re not taking you straight to booking. We"re going to have a nice chat at the station while my colleagues go through the club and your house."

I didn"t respond.

The bigger question is why would the mafia set this up? There was a code among the syndicates I"d met. It didn"t matter who it was. Cartel, mafia, the Network. All the different crime organizations left the law out of it. When there was a debt to settle, they settled it amongst themselves.

And Stevo? He shouldn"t have mattered in the grand scheme of things.

The question was, why did he?

I caught Joaquin"s eye as they led us in through security from the back entrance. Nice of them to protect our image. They would try to say it was kindness to get us to talk later.

Joaquin's gaze burned. He was pissed at me.

What the fuck ever. Nothing we could do about this now, except ride it out and figure out what the hell was going on.

Barton opened the next door leading to a deserted hallway and ushered us in. My steps echoed as he lightly pushed me toward a room at the end.

One of the cops placed Joaquin into a room next to mine. His guy had a pep in his step that mine didn't. He must be fresh on the force.

There was still one door in the middle of ours. Probably the viewing room.

"Here, I"ll unlock those cuffs while you"re in here. There are men stationed outside, so don"t try anything stupid."

"I wouldn"t dream of it." I rubbed my wrists. The cuffs were nothing like the ones I"d used on Beasty. These hadn"t been tight, but I was broad and my arms didn"t like the angle of how I"d had to sit in the backseat. Yet the slight discomfort helped me keep a clear head.

I glanced around. This wasn"t like the typical interrogation rooms I"d expect at the station. It was a regular office type setting, with wallpaper and cheap, hotel-grade furniture. The only thing separating this room from a typical conference room was the mirror behind Barton as he took a seat across from me.

He let out a loud sigh as he steadily met my gaze.

A scar marred the side of his top lip, and he'd done a piss poor job of shaving the underside of his neck. So, not as meticulous as I'd originally thought.

"What do you think my colleagues will find in their searches, Mr. Wright?" His eyes narrowed.

I shrugged. "Nothing. This is all a waste of time when I"d much rather be home with my family."

He chuckled. "Family. But none of you are related. And we"ve noticed a young woman in your care as well."

I tensed. I did not like this asshole even alluding to Beasty. No one fucking deserved to say her name. To breathe her air. They were so far beneath her, he shouldn't even know she existed.

But we"d never be able to lock her in the basement. Fine, we would deal with this shit.

"You don"t have anything to say?" he hummed and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach.

"What do you want me to say? Those men aren"t related to me, but we were all in that house together, locked away by Gates. If that doesn"t build an unbreakable bond, I don"t know what does." I hesitated, gauging his reaction. I might as well put it out there. Chances were, he"d done background checks on all of us, including Beasty. "And Cressida is the girl who alerted the police. Why wouldn"t she be part of our family? If not for her, my friends and I would probably be in shallow graves in the backwoods of West Virginia."

He nodded, like this was all exactly what he expected.

"I hear ya. I would have a hard time not hero-worshiping the girl who saved my ass too. You five together, you all pretty tight?"

"Of course. We"ve been together for years."

"But not Miss Hart. She only recently came to stay with you?"

"Yes." No harm in confirming this, but his time was coming to an end. I wasn"t stupid. I needed my one phone call.

"Funny that. Because she and Stevo shared a history. I"m sure you know that." He paused.

I didn"t confirm. "Listen. A deep dive into my family dynamics is a waste of my time and yours. I"d like my lawyer."

He pursed his lips, shifting to lean forward and brace his elbows on the chair. "I can"t help you if you lawyer up."

"You don"t want to help. I"ll take that phone call now."

"Okay, I"ll tell you what." He raised his hand and pointed to a camera in the top corner of the ceiling. The red light was on. He made some kind of hand signal to the glass and it kicked off. "The camera is off. I"m going to lay shit out for you, and after that, you can do what you want with it."

I waited. He was expecting an answer but huffed out a low laugh when he didn"t get one.

"I don"t think you"re the bad guy here. Honestly, if this went to trial, you and Mr. Amaya have such a tragic backstory, as does Miss Hart, that you"d probably get off on self-defense, regardless that Mr. Anderson"s head was delivered back to his hometown.

"Now, you and I both know that that kind of effort is not self-defense. It"s anger, and it stinks of revenge. But I get it. If I"d lived your life, I wouldn"t want to let anyone get the best of me for any reason. I"d want the control. I"d need the power to protect myself and the ones I loved."

He wasn"t wrong. But he wasn"t completely right.

"Then there"s the very clear and unsavory ties connected to Mr. Anderson. No one liked him, no one is missing him. There"s not a strong case. But..." He rhythmically tapped his first two fingers on the tabletop. "We"re not really after your family. We"re after much bigger fish."

And still, I gave Barton nothing. He made a scoffing noise in his throat.

"We"ve come to learn that your family has some very important ties. To some very big players. We want them. And your cooperation will make sure that your particular troubles will go away."

Damn, he really thought he was doing something.

I shook my head. "I would say I"d love to help you, but I think we both know that isn"t true. Nothing against you or your cause, but I"m afraid you have me–and my family–all wrong."

"I don"t though, do I? It doesn"t take a rocket scientist to figure out that you sent Mr. Anderson back to notable men in the mafia. Or the fact that you have a silent investor that"s almost impossible to find a trail on. Pay attention, kid. I said almost impossible."

The way he raised his brows and widened his eyes, he thought I was slow on the uptake.

"I can"t help you. I want that phone call now. I have a lawyer on retainer who will clear this all up."

Barton"s top lip curled and he pushed his chair back. He didn"t bother with responding as he stormed out of the room.

Five minutes later, he came back and held the door open for me. Because I wasn"t a complete asshole, I didn"t gloat at cutting his fun short. I slid past him and waited for him to lead me to a side office. He pointed at the phone and crossed his arms.

I leveled him with a flat stare. The calls were recorded, but that didn"t mean I wanted his eyes on the back of my head while I made the call.

After a petty huff, he shut the door behind him.

I dialed the number I"d memorized, and waited for an answer.

"Ms. Chen"s office."

"This is Lake Wright. I had sent over an inquiry based on a referral by a mutual friend. I haven"t heard back, and I"m afraid I"ve run out of time."

"Lake Wright," she repeated absently as she furiously typed. "Ah, okay. I see your inquiry. What is your situation?"

"My friend and I have been arrested. We're currently at Rockford County Police Station. We need representation and to be bailed out."

"Lucky for you it"s during the week and early to boot. Otherwise you"d be stuck there overnight." More typing. "Are you aware of the fees?"

"I am."

"And you agree to the terms?"

"I do."

"Perfect. I"ll let her know." The line went dead. Real fucking nice, lady.

I set the phone down. I almost lifted it to make another phone call, but I didn"t. Too many ears and not enough reason to hang myself.

I scratched the back of my head as I glared at the phone. Gio was going to have a coronary. I"d love to get his take on this and see if he"d heard anything, but that would have to wait.

Parker would want to know too. But I"d delay that asshole as long as I fucking could.

The last thing I needed was for him to decide we weren"t worth the hassle and fuck us over.