Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“Goddamned jackass,” I mutter to myself.
I close my eyes, blocking out everything, not even caring if I ruin the drink.
It doesn’t help.
I can’t erase the horrified look on her face.
I’m human scum.
I hope she hates me now.
Just so it’ll be easier to get over me and leave me behind as the vampire fucking asshole I am, and not someone she genuinely cares about.
I open my eyes and shut off the infuser, staring down at the stubby wide glass coffee cup the drink is traditionally served in.
In the glow from the fireplace, it almost looks bloody.
Fuck, I had to do this.
Didn’t I?
I have a duty.
The entire reason I came here.
It was already near impossible to pin the drugs to Xavier Arrendell and the Jacobins, working my way down the eastern seaboard one arrest at a time, until I finally found the thread leading back to this little town—idyllic and untouched by Xavier’s cocaine empire when, like any sensible drug lord, he doesn’t shit where he eats.
Years of work.
Years of agony, staked on my dead brother’s life.
I couldn’t let that go.
Not even to keep from ruining Talia.
Not even to love her.
It hits me then.
I dig my fingers into the edge of the bar until my bones hurt, fighting back a shout.
I love that goddamned woman, too.
That weird, sweet, anxious, brilliant splash of pink sunshine who looked at everything mangled inside me and touched my sharpness. She told me no matter how much I cut her, she wanted to bleed.
Well, I’m the asshole bleeding now.
Especially as I snap my eyes open, lift the drink, and toss it down, gasping from the burn.
I only wish it could drown more than my guts with fire.
Burn it all away, but it can’t.
All it does is make me feel like I really could become the monster my father was, hiding from my failures in booze.
Snarling, I slam the empty glass on the counter, practically breathing fire.
A furious roar rips out of me before my arm jerks.
I hurl the glass at the fireplace.
It hits the stonework and shatters with a loud ringing.
Rolf, who was sleeping on the leather recliner, snaps up with a confused bark.
I slump forward, breathing hard, leaning my entire weight on the bar—then I drag myself over and wedge myself into the chair with the German Shepherd.
He lays his head on my chest, draping his body over me like he’s trying to protect me from invisible bullets. I lay an arm over his warm, furry body and bury my face between his ears.
“Sorry. I know I fucked up, boy,” I whisper. “That happy-go-lucky woman, she even made you love her. And I just went and shit the bed so bad she’ll never trust me again.”
Hindsight is twenty-fucking-twenty.
If I’d just told her from the start that I was DEA, here undercover, what’s the worst that could’ve happened?
Maybe we could have come at this differently then.
Maybe I could’ve thought about taking her back to New York with me one day.
Too bad I’ve been so focused on finally getting my way that I only thought about myself.
I’ve wondered so long who I’ll be when this is over, after I have my revenge.
A hollow shell?
Shit, if I walk away empty, it’s because I made myself that way.
Sighing, I close my eyes, holding Rolf tight.
At least I can’t ruin his love.
A dog’s love is unconditional.
Unfortunately, I don’t even know if I can protect Talia from the DEA snapping up every penny Xavier gave her.
They’ll want to talk to her, and if they interrogate her enough, she’ll slip.
She’ll slip, and then they’ll know she knew what he was and what I was doing when she took his money, and that will make it forfeit.
I can protect her from prosecution, yes, even if I have to pull a few strings, but it doesn’t change the loss.
Her future, obliterated.
I can’t let that happen.
Maybe I can’t convince her to love me again.
But I can do right by her so she won’t just be collateral damage as I take down Xavier Arrendell and the Jacobins.
There’s a large reward for taking down large drug networks like this one. Even bigger if key information leads to the arrest of a high-profile kingpin. I can’t think of a more high-profile figure than Xavier and his merry band of assholes.
It never would’ve happened without Talia.
All I have to do is report her as the person who tipped me off, leading to major arrests, and she’ll be rolling in money. Not as much as Xavier’s offer, but enough.
Enough to make sure she’s safe.
Enough to make sure she can save Gerald Grey.
I fish out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I land on a name I haven’t looked at in over a year.
Jane Henway. My handler—the one I report to, the one who maintains my records and makes sure that anyone sniffing at my background doesn’t trip over the fact that I’m not a big-city cop who just decided to migrate to creepy Mayberry and live the easy life.