by Harloe Rae
“Yeah, a real whopper.” A slow grin is spreading on Adalene’s mouth. “But everything will be just fine. Priorities first. Who is that tasty treat?”
I pin a blurry glare on her. She’s such a man-eater. “Did you miss the introductions?”
“Well, well, someone’s being defensive. Did you tame a bad boy, Blakely? I didn’t believe you had what it takes.”
“Seriously?”
She rolls her hazel eyes so hard, I fear they might fall out. “Oh, whatever. You’ve always been the safe and reliable type.”
I glower at her, preparing to argue. But hadn’t I claimed the same thing not long ago? It just sounds more offensive—and boring—coming from someone else. “People change.”
My mother had been stuck in a state of eerie silence, but my comment apparently reboots her system. “You seem very close to that man, Blakely.”
“That’s because I am.”
“He’s a criminal. Do you want to be involved in a scandal? He probably took you out there in the first place!” The accusation in her tone raises my hackles with a screech.
I bite my tongue until a copper taste warns me to quit. “Halder was wrongfully accused. He’s innocent.”
My mom gapes at me, the utter horror painted on her pale complexion. “Your heart is too soft. That man is going to break you, sweetie. I knew that you working in that prison was a terrible idea. You’ll believe anything.”
Acid burns up my throat until I’m almost choking on it. “Rash judgment is below you, mother. I would’ve died without him. You should be giving him your undying gratitude.”
The tension in her shoulders deflates with a long sigh. “Okay, I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be fighting. You’ve been through too much already. Come sit down.”
I study her for a moment, measuring the sincerity she’s tossing at me. It only takes a moment before I’m shuffling toward her. My mother wraps her arms around me and holds tight. I melt into her without hesitation. There’s just something extra comforting about a hug from this fierce, albeit sometimes nutty, woman.
“Halder is a perfect gentleman. He doesn’t deserve your assumptions.”
She rubs a soothing palm down my back. “All right, Blakely. I apologize for being rude. It’s obvious you care for him deeply.”
“I do.” My nose burns, and I sniff to ease the sting.
“Knock, knock.” The sing-song tone comes from behind us.
I peek through the curtain of my mother’s hair and release an overly dramatic huff. A nurse stands in the doorway with a small cart. Maybe she doesn’t deserve my ire; I want to throttle those responsible for snatching him away.
The middle-aged woman offers me the kind of smile meant to ease nerves. All I feel is strain in my muscles. Her eyes crinkle further as she glances around my room. “Ready for me yet?”
I want to refuse. That’s not going to help anyone, though. Once I comply, they’ll let me leave. Then I can be there to support Halder. And if they try to make me stay, I’ll climb out the damn window. I paste the fakest smile known to female charm on my lips. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”
Survival tip #26: There’s a loophole to any situation.
The radio crackles from the center console with another alert in a code I never cared to learn. That near-constant static has kept me awake as the midnight sky made room for daybreak. We’ve been in the car long enough that all of the scenery blends into a rippling wave of green, blue, and brown. My eyes sting as I try to focus on anything of significance. Asking where we’re going would be easy, but initiating conversation with these cops isn’t something I’m interested in doing. I’ve had plenty of practice sitting for hours without uttering a sound. But between getting rescued, only to be taken away from Blakely, then stuck in the back of this squad car, I have almost cracked a few times.
We crossed the border into Minnesota just after three o’clock. The officers took turns driving through the night so we didn’t have to pause for more than a moment to piss. Taking a plane would’ve been far more efficient, yet triple the cost. Transporting me in that much of a hurry isn’t high on their priority list. The pitch-black shadows shrouding my vision wasn’t a comfort, especially when I couldn’t track our route. My travel companions made it clear they preferred silence over small talk. That usually suits me fine, but this highway resembled a prolonged path leading straight to hell. My only company is the rapid thump of tires on pavement as miles turn the odometer. A brutal hammer clobbers me from the inside out, smashing against my ribs. That cracking sensation only gets more intense the further they force me from Blakely. I curl my fingers into trembling fists as our own long road unfolds and stretches. The journey ahead has never been simple for Blakely and me.
The plexiglass partition reflects glinting sunlight. Being on the wrong side of that bulletproof divider drags me back to bleaker days I never planned to revisit. I’m a free man, but the current position they have me in suggests otherwise. At least I’m not strapped in cuffs or chains. My rights weren’t read to me. They didn’t throw an orange jumpsuit at me. Those are decent signs this might go my way, at least somewhat.
“I appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Rane. Ripping you away from the scene isn’t how we prefer to proceed, but your case is sensitive.” The officer’s voice is so unexpected that I almost recoil.
That reserve evaporates seconds later. “You can call me Halder. And what do you mean?”
His grunt suggests I’m clueless in this charade. “As a man recently released from prison who goes missing a week later, you’ve caught plenty of attention. Suspicion has been raised. They just have some routine procedures to go over with you.”
His speech is almost the same drivel I gave to Blakely. I chuckle at the irony. These guys are easier to read than Dr. Suess. “Got it,” I mutter at the fogging window.
“But don’t worry. Most of the confusion has been cleared up.”
Because there’s not a damn thing to pin on me. An urge to bash my skull against the unforgiving surface between us burns through me. “That’s just…great.”
“I bet you recognize this place.” His voice tints with the sort of amusement I’ve never found entertaining.
With a quick sideways glance, I see the unmistakable outskirts of Streebston coming into view. This means they’re delivering me to the police department nearby. And this bastard is antagonizing me. I rip through the ends of my already disheveled hair. Roaring tides are crashing against my gut as I attempt to rein in the fury. He doesn’t deserve a reaction for this shit. I stew in rage and regret until the bump of rotating wheels slows to a stop.
“And here we are.” He doesn’t bother disguising the pleasure of a job well done. And why would he? They’ve delivered the bad guy to justice.
Paul is sitting on the precinct stairs when we pull over at the curb. His familiar face is a very welcome sight. Walking inside with him next to me allows some of the knots to loosen in my gut. It feels a hell of a lot less like I’m striding toward a guillotine. I might have a decent chance of leaving by this afternoon with my pride intact.
“My man. I’m damn glad to see you in one piece.” My trusted confidant and lawyer extends a hand for me.
I accept his offer with a single pump of my wrist. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
His gaze shifts to the officers parked idle behind us. “Did those assholes treat you well?”
A limp shrug prefaces my response. “They left me in peace for the most part.”
“I’m pretty peeved that they required you to have a police chauffeur.”
“Why am I here, Paul? Shouldn’t I be free to go about my business?” Such as hauling ass back to Blakely’s bedside. A sour thought sweeps in—she’s probably on her way home by now. I have no fucking clue where that is. Her number threatens to burn a hole in my pocket. The bubbling beneath my skin could be soothed if I had a damn phone to call her on.
Paul scrubs a palm across his smooth jaw. “I wish your case was th
at simple, Halder. You’re not the typical victim of a successful search and rescue. Technically you skipped out on parole.”
A muscle leaps in my cheek. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“I do, but there’s more to your complicated story. Let’s go in, okay? Someone has been waiting to meet you.”
With a mutter of expletives, I follow his lead as we wander past rows of crowded surfaces piled with paperwork and raised voices pointing in all directions. The stuffy building appears to be in organized chaos, but I expect little less for what these folks are dealing with. Paul motions to a corner office with the door propped open. I amble over the threshold while squaring my shoulders.
A man waits behind a polished desk. His tie is already tugged loose, and it’s barely mid-morning. What I’m assuming is his suit jacket occupies one of the available chairs. The way it’s haphazardly dangling from one side reminds me of a hectic movie scene. He’s clearly not kicking his feet up anytime soon. A sly grin made for stereotypes tilts the edges of his mouth.
“Halder Rane, I presume?”
“That’s me.” I remain rooted to a spot along the far wall. Paul chuckles, but I ignore him.
“I’m Detective Wyllis.” He gestures to the open seats. “Take a seat, please.”
My lawyer nudges me forward. We collapse into the vintage wingbacks with a creak of leather. A combination of dust, sweat, and cheap aftershave assault my nostrils. It smells worse than chasing terrible leads in this joint.
“Good to see you again, John.” His flat tone suggests the opposite.
The agent flicks a glance at him before focusing on me. “Thanks for coming in. I hope the ride wasn’t too bad.”
I feel my upper lip twitch. “Eh, who can complain about a cramped squad cruiser for eight hours? Practically a chariot.”
He shakes a meaty finger at me. “Funny guy. I’m glad that stuck with you.”
I blink at the roundhouse compliment. “Not sure I’ve ever been known for my comedic relief.”
“We appreciate humor in this job. It gets real low hunting criminals around the clock.”
“Yeah, real hilarious. How about we get to the point so my client can see to his neglected affairs.” Paul picks at some dirt under his nails.
John glares at him. “Still a dick, huh?”
“Isn’t that your title now? Swanky digs, by the way. I bet the pension is solid.”
The detective steeples his fingers. “All right, I can tell we’re a bit testy this morning. How about starting with the good news?”
Paul shoots him a bland look. “Do you drag this shit out on purpose?”
John ignores him, turning his eyes on me. “Well, you’ll be happy to know that Mr. Pompetto and his entire operation has been shut down.”
That news makes my head spin. Talk about a shock to my system. Maybe I blacked out for a second. “Wait, what?”
His smile grows at the slack in my features. “After your disappearance, a large raid was executed due to a massive federal investigation. Their involvement made it all possible. I’m at liberty to share that the FBI has been tracking Stefano’s dealings for years. They finally had enough hard evidence compiled to move in. With what they’ve collected, there’s not a chance of Pompetto and his goons disputing the charges.”
I rub at the pressure building in my temples. “How is this possible? That man has always been careful to a fault.”
“Several factors, to be honest. Years in their ranks granted our guys access to intel. When Stefano heard about your early release, he lost his cool and got sloppy. He trusted the wrong people—undercover agents, to be precise. Secrets were spilled faster than blood. It was only a matter of days before authorities swarmed all of his locations and cleaned house.” John reclines in his chair, and the metal protests with a groan.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. His revelation unplugs a drain somewhere deep inside of me. The vengeance that’s been keeping me upright through the darkness swirls down, leaving my stature a shapeless lump. Now what the fuck purpose do I have? I grip the back of my neck. “Well, damn.”
The detective stares at me, his mouth dropping an inch without a sound. “This is good news. Great even. Why aren’t you relieved?”
“I am, trust me. It’s just that…shit.” I bow my head and exhale through clenched teeth. Catching them is what motivated me throughout my entire prison sentence. That goal was in the forefront during my time in the wilderness, too. Seeking justice became my sole purpose, aside from keeping Blakely alive. Now it’s run through my fingers like water, and I’m left holding nothing. “I’m feeling a bit…weird about this turn in events.”
His nod is slow, as if pieces are clicking into place. “Ah, I understand. There were more invasive details revealed in the process. We have reason to believe you were framed. I’m sure that’s been bothering you.”
I whip my head toward Paul. His blown gaze appears to be a reflection of my own. “Is he serious?”
My lawyer just offers a lame shrug. “No clue, man. This is the first I’m hearing about any of this crap. I would’ve shared the updates with you immediately.”
John cuts into our exchange. “These are confidential reports. That’s the truth we’re facing. It’s unfortunate we didn’t discover this sooner.”
Another jolt spikes my blood pressure. The way he relays that information so casually grates at the blistering under my skin. I want to punch a slab of brick until bones disintegrate. How many more surprises can I handle in less than ten minutes? “Great, so you guys are finally figuring out I’m innocent. It only took five years. What happens now?”
“There is still a lot going on behind the scenes. As more testimonies get collected, it seems there are numerous players that had no idea they were in the game. We believe you’re one of them.”
My internal bogus meter begins dinging louder than a fire alarm. This all sounds too good. “And when will those findings be enough for my verdict to be overturned?”
The detective raps his knuckles on the polished wood in front of him. “We’re hoping to get matters handled before the snow flies. Stefano isn’t saying squat, but enough of his members are squawking to prove your involvement was solely legal. We can’t give you five years back. A pardon and clean record are absolute, though.”
That isn’t nearly as gratifying as the revenge plots I’d been planning, but it’s better than getting tossed back into the fray. I stand and prepare to get gone. Being stuck in this office is making my muscles flex. “Am I free to go?”
John holds up a palm. “Just a moment. We still need to deal with your parole.”
“But I’m not guilty of any crimes. You just said so.”
“Right, that’s the report they’re constructing. The red tape is still sticky, though.”
I narrow my eyes, more than ready to be done with this entire ordeal. “Either I’m allowed to leave or not.”
His placating hand remains elevated. “There’s just a brief holding period to ensure everything is handled once and for all.”
“Like sticking near town so I’m available for further questioning? A mandatory quarantine? Or what do you mean exactly?” I’m sure there’s a visible ripple coursing along my taut frame.
He releases a sigh that fans the flames of my brewing storm. “I’m aware this might be frustrating. Just sit tight and the details will follow.”
That sounds so similar to my arrest, I don’t bother concealing a sneer. Paul notices and claps my back, gripping me with a warning squeeze.
“It’s just a precaution, right?” His focus is on me, but he’s addressing the detective.
“Completely. Mostly for your safety, Halder.”
“But everyone after me is in custody.”
“There’s always a straggler or two. We’re gathering more details about your disappearance. That young woman you were stranded with adds another complex layer to this mess. There’s a process we must follow. Patience will pay off in this case.”
I can feel my body vibrating under Paul’s hold. Fucking awesome. “I’m caught in another waiting game.”
“Again, I apologize for your frustration.” He passes me a card. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow. Thanks for your cooperation.”
The cops always recite that as if I have a choice. I snatch the shiny rectangle from his hand with a scowl. Paul ushers me into the hall before another word can be spoken. The noisy lobby booms against the disaster raging in my mind. Only one person has the ability to calm me down, but what do I have to offer her in this moment? I’m one second away from going nuclear on the impenetrable barrier being stacked between us. Will she even want to see me? I clench my eyes shut while picturing bottomless baby blues and brunette hair so dark it gleams black in the sun.
“Let me give you a lift home.” Paul begins steering me to the parking lot.
I slam to a stop on the sidewalk. “Don’t wanna go there.”
He turns to me and seems to brace for impact. “I’d bet my left nut you don’t wanna stay here.”
“I need to make a call. Where’s the closest store I can buy a phone?”
The thunder of my pacing cracks across the wooden floorboards. Even with a layer of flimsy carpet on top, there’s no disguising my agitation. Another bolt streaks through my bloodstream when further silence is the only thing to greet me.
There is worse torture than being locked in prison. Those five years behind bars seem to pale in comparison to being kept away from Blakely. I wouldn’t have believed it myself if this wasn’t my current predicament. I’m a free man, yet they’ve corralled me into another pen.
A ping from my new cell provides a much-needed distraction. One glance at the screen cracks the iron I’ve been encased in.
Lee: Good morning, SBM.
I chuckle at the secret name Blakely coded me with. Another message comes through before I can respond.
Lee: Just wanted to say that I’m thinking of you.
Me: Damn, sweetheart. That’s what I needed to hear. You’re always on my mind. How’d you sleep?