Sitting in the back of the squad car does nothing to calm my nerves. My mouth is as dry as a desert, but I hide my unease behind my fake practiced bravado. Instead of taking a cab, we rode with Detective Sexy One and Two. But now I’m regretting the split second decision.
His eyes are on me, burning questions at me, questions I’ll never answer. He’s trying to figure me out. With every crinkle of his brows comes more frustration. He peers in the rearview mirror every few minutes. Can he see through me? Can he see what I hide? Dread licks at my feet and spirals up my system until it chews at my stomach making me more on edge. Maybe he can sense my apprehension. I squint my eyes closed, breathe deeply¸ and slowly reopen as my calm, collected self. Nothing about being around this man seems to equal normality, which I can tell already. My heart has already taken over the driver’s seat while my head takes a nap in the backseat.
Every step I take into the busy precinct causes my heart to pound louder and harder. It shouldn’t bother me so much, and usually it wouldn’t. But today is different. I just don’t know why. The squad car, the police presence, the fact that I’m now sitting in a police precinct facing off with a ‘so good-looking it should be illegal’ cop.
It was such a strange feeling, sitting and waiting with police, watching. I wasn’t in trouble; this isn’t about me. I just have to give my statement and leave. But my heart beats faster, my palms became sweaty, and all because of the insecurities in my head. In the back of my mind, I knew no one could see the truth, but I can’t stop running, I have to get away. I have to hide. He has no clue who I am, but still I wonder. Will today be the day? I’ve never been caught. How can anyone catch a woman who doesn’t exist?
It felt like hours before we arrived at the precinct, when in reality the drive was barely ten minutes. Ten long, tension-filled minutes until Detective Tate led Alison from the car, and into an interrogation room on the far side of the busy precinct filled with officers in uniform, detectives in plain clothing, and random people off the streets. I found myself being questioned by Detective Cole in his office, a place far too private for the thoughts about him circling in my head.
After properly introducing ourselves, Mason, Detective Cole, sits opposite me behind his desk, getting right down to business. Gone is the sexual tension, the lust in his eyes and my desire for just one more touch. I want to rip the words right out of his mouth and shove them down his throat as they curse my ears with knowledge infuriating me enough to light a fire inside me.
My darling sister, when will she learn? She was indeed involved in today’s misfortunes, in more ways than one. My gut twists. I should have tried harder to get away from that family. Out of the lifestyle. Detective Cole’s accusing her of serious crimes, ones I don’t want to believe she could be connected to. I bite the inside of my cheek and the metallic taste of blood coats my tongue.
“I don’t think I’m understanding you correctly, Detective. What exactly are you implying here?” I’m angry. Seeing fucking red. While he stands in front of me throwing accusations around, I’m fantasizing about punching him in his gorgeous face. The cocky bastard thought playing dirty would work. I’m sure he was hoping I’d succumb to his dominant charm, but his ploy reflected in his body language, and I recognized it immediately.
Warmth settles over my hand and squeezes, causing me to look up from the floor. The anger subsides; replacing it is a feeling much worse. Why is he pretending to care? Why calm me with empathetic glances and teasing touches? I don’t need his sympathy, or his pity.
“I know you don’t want to believe this, Lindsey, and at this stage we don’t have enough evidence to slap the charges on her, but as soon as we have everything we need, we will have her on drug possession and prostitution.” Mason grimaces. He isn’t enjoying telling me this anymore than I am having to hear it. “Prostitution is a misdemeanor offense in Alison’s case which is, believe it or not, a good thing. In court, it could go either way. But the drug possession charge, if we can prove intent to sell, we’ll have no choice but to up it to a Class B felony and if she’s convicted on those charges, your sister could be behind bars for years.”
I gasp, bringing my hand to cover my mouth. I can’t hide the arrow piercing my heart with disappointment. How could she let this happen? How did I let this happen? She didn’t have to live this life, but with Adriana Marino by her side, her best friend, how could I stop it? I had words, wisdom, and love to offer her. Giuseppe Marino gave her diamonds, wealth, and a family. All at a price she’d pay for the rest of her life. Oliver and I were lucky, we got out. Giuseppe let us walk the day we decided we didn’t want to work for him anymore. After years of having us trained to shoot, fight, fake it and ultimately kill for him, he knew if he didn’t let us leave, he’d be the next one we killed. We were younger, faster and smarter. Alison didn’t choose to come with us though. I pleaded, I begged, but it didn’t work. And with Ali I knew if I pushed too much, I’d lose her. So I stopped pushing and I kept her close. Just not close enough.
Burying my head in my hands, I lean my elbows on Detective Cole’s desk, hiding the worry pouring out of me from his prying eyes. I stare at the floor as if it holds all the answers to the unspoken questions swirling around in my mind. I’d do anything for Ali, but my sister hasn’t learned from her mistakes. I don’t know where I went wrong. I raised her. I know the woman she’s capable of being is buried underneath what she has become. She used to be sweet, kind, hopeful. I don’t know when it happened, what triggered off the brain cell convincing her she wasn’t worth any more than the line of coke she’d likely just snorted up her nose. I wanted to blame the Marino family. It was their fault, their influence. But it was my selfishness that allowed me to be blinded to her self-destruction. I was too wrapped up in my own distractions. I was doing what I could to provide us with a better life, one I could use to try and get her back with me and out of Giuseppe’s reach. But in turn, I lost my way and my sister gained an addiction.
I’m not her mother. She’s only seven years younger than me, but she’s always felt like my responsibility. It wrecks me I’ll probably never know what happened with her, because if there is one female in this world more stubborn than myself, it’s Ali. The walls surrounding her heart are guarded by the most savage of beasts. It will take more than a few sweet words and true love’s kiss to get that girl out from behind those barricades and opening herself up to someone.
Detective Cole shifts in his seat and I realize I haven’t actually responded. What else is there to say?
“I’m sorry you ended up a part of this today. The charges are probably a lot more serious than Alison realizes, and unfortunately for her, she’s guilty. We both know it. Soon as we see the footage from the club and someone else rolls on her she’s going to go down.”
The need to defend my only sister has me rising in my seat, but the weight of his words, the truth in them anchors me back down. In the back of my mind, I know he’s right. I just refuse to believe it until I hear it from Ali.
“So what do I need to do to help her?” I ask, trying to remain calm.
“Nothing can change evidence. But I’ll speak to the District Attorney and they may cut her a deal if she cooperates with us on the case. Of course, whether Alison accepts it is a whole other story, but I’ll do what I can. But Lindsey, make sure she doesn’t run. Keep her nearby, if she runs, we can’t help her.”
He leans in, invading my personal space. He’s calm, focusing completely on me, compelling me to believe everything he is saying. His words hold sincerity and kindness. I don’t know what either Alison or I did to deserve them. Just the idea that this man holds the key to the cell my baby sister could spend years suffering in, sends my heart rate up to warp speed. Why does he give a damn about her future? Girls like her are a dime a dozen around these parts and he probably deals with them daily. A wall of confusion rises, blocking his attempts at consoling me. His motives for helping us are questions on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back while his body answers my questions for him. His eyes shine. There is no maliciousness behind them. Not a hint of deceit, no telltale signs of a lie. He’s as real as it gets, truth in its purest form.