Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
One of the officers is mid-fifties with what looks like an oddly fitted toupee on his head and crinkles at his eyes. The other younger, thirties maybe, with curly brown hair.
Eric steps forward, taking me with him, and assumes the obvious. They know who he is. “Any word on my father?” Eric asks, the question is his only greeting to the officers.
“He’s in ICU,” the older of the two officers answers. He’s mid-fifties with what looks like an oddly fitted toupee on his head and crinkles at his eyes. “They’re running tests, but it appears it might be a heart attack.” The man’s words drip with accusation, as if the heart attack was a product of Eric’s making.
Eric’s hand flexes ever so slightly against mine, but his expression is unreadable, unchanged. His tone is steady, unaffected, as he asks, “And the man my security team found on the security footage?”
“We’re looking into it,” the younger officer announces, his keen eyes falling on our connected hands and then on me. “Perhaps your stepsister might recognize him.”
And there it is. The next slap, and accusations, of what will likely be many. We’re a tabloid party waiting to happen. The potential headlines run through my head, taunting me with implication that two stepsiblings have come together for sex, scandal, and murder.
Chapter eighty-one
Eric
The stepsister comment is getting really fucking old and adolescent. I don’t directly reply to the asshole cop who made the shitty comment. I don’t defend mine and Harper’s relationship. Too often in high-profile cases, and this will be one, law enforcement tries to take the heat off themselves and put it on other people. The incestuous headlines they’re already starting to frame would do that—if I let them get away with it.
I drape my arm around Harper’s shoulders, making it clear that I won’t cower and neither will she. In fact, I plan to attack. I glance at the cop’s nametag. “You know, Officer Marks. I admire a good cop as much as I do my former SEALs,” I say dryly, my gaze meeting the gaze of the cop that just goaded us. “Bravery and sacrifice are qualities to admire. Unfortunately, there are those who serve who use power trips to feed their egos. Like you, officer. You might inspire me to file a harassment charge and I have to tell you, our firm would enjoy taking on a case against the bad eggs on the force. They put the good cops in danger.”
“Are you threatening me?” he asks, and a threat lives inside that question.
“Quite the opposite. I’m trying to protect the many good men and women you put in harm’s way. Now if you’ll step aside, I need to go check on my father.” I guide Harper around the two men and we’ve made it all of a few steps, with Savage and Smith framing us, when Officer Marks smarts off again. “Why?” he demands. “Why go check on him at all? Word is that you hate him.”
I stop walking and rotate to face both men. “And yet I still saved his life.”
“That’s still to be determined,” Officer Marks says. “He could die.”
“Which is why I need to get to talk to the doctors.” I turn away from both men and pull Harper closer, kissing her temple as we turn a corner. “Don’t freak out,” I whisper, sensing she’s doing that and more. “We had to control them, not the other way around.”
“Fuckers,” Savage grumbles. “Talk about a couple of bitch cops and I like cops. I like cops a lot. Just not those two assholes.”
“Amen to that,” the normally silent Smith chimes in. “Amen to that.” He points to an elevator and we all pause while he punches the call button.
I press my hand to Harper’s shoulders, lowering my voice. “If this was a professional hit, there will be no poison in his system and this is over, at least from law enforcement’s standpoint.”
“Why are they even looking for it?”
“I told them what happened. It reads like poison, but professional hitmen do not leave evidence.”
“What if they did?”
“They didn’t. Act like you have nothing to fear. You don’t and weakness to those cops is like blood to a coyote. It draws them in and makes them attack.”
She nods. “Right. Got it. Play the game.”
“Play it our way, not theirs. Our way. Own every conversation with them. Got it?”
She inhales and lets it out, calmness sliding over her beautiful face. “Yes.” She sounds stronger now. Even stronger as she adds, “No fear.”
“No fear, sweetheart. Exactly.” The elevator dings and the doors open. “Come on.” I lead her into the car, looking forward to the day I can just be with her, minus this damn family drama, determined to make that day come sooner rather than later.
Savage and Smith follow us into the car and right before we’re sealed inside, the two officers step in front of us, the older one catching the door to keep it open. “Is there a reason you need two bodyguards?” he asks.