21. Julia
CHAPTER 21
Julia
The ride back to the city is long. They’re holding Rocco in a temporary detention center, with plans to move him to a permanent facility. While Max has gone to great lengths to cover his identity, someone recognized Rocco by his shirt. It won’t be long before the feds start sniffing around the rest of the family. Which means Max is in hot shit if they catch on.
Max has already disabled and tossed his phone, switching to a burner.
If I had any doubt that I’m dating a criminal, there’s none now.
We’re both quiet. Turning over the anxiety of what’s at stake while the radio plays Christmas tunes. I’m feeling anything but festive.
If they find out that Max is associated, we’re both going down. I had the opportunity to leave, but I’m in this now. And what I plan to do next makes me even more guilty.
Rocco doesn’t deserve the fate of being locked up or worse. And seeing Max this distraught is killing me. The man feels things so deeply, especially for his family. They’re everything to him.
And he’s everything to me.
The detention center is cold and ominous when we arrive. Windowless and made of concrete, the thing stands at least five stories high and is surrounded by several layers of fencing, complete with barbed wire laced in threatening loops along the tops. There’s no escaping here. The place is filled with armed police and guards stationed at every exit and at several looming towers, scoping the ground for anyone out of place. I can feel their eyes on me as I move through the security system. Their guns trained on my body. One wrong move, and I’m toast.
The female guard with a snarl permanently etched on her face, is assigned to pat me down before allowing me through.
Max and I agreed that I would come in here alone. Having him inside this place is asking for trouble. Rocco and Max are clearly related. Just one look at them can confirm it. Someone could connect him to that video and then it’s game over.
“I’m clean, I swear,” I assure the guard. She gives me a bored look and asks me to strip.
Somewhere in my brain, I knew this was a possibility. Though I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Still, I comply, removing the layers until I’m shivering in the fluorescent-lit room. Her hands go down the length of my body and in every crevice. The white-painted walls seem to close in around me as she checks under my tits, making me hold my arms in the air.
“Okay, now, turn and face the wall and spread your legs.”
“My legs?”
“You heard me, spread them, or I’ll do it for you.”
“A-alright.”
“You can always pick out the newbies. They shake like a leaf.” Her hands find my ass crack, and I involuntarily squeeze. “Relax, or this will only get worse.”
I nod my head and will my body to calm the fuck down.
“She’s clean. You can put your clothes back on.”
I snatch them as quickly as physically possible, trying to push away the feeling of being violated.
It seems like it takes ages for them to bring out Rocco, but once they do, I know it’s him immediately. Even if Max hadn’t shown me a picture before I came in here, I’d still be able to recognize them as being related.
Rocco has the same dark hair and eyes as Max, but his build is smaller, and he sports two distinct holes where an eyebrow piercing used to be on his right side. He has a myriad of tattoos that peek out over the collar of his orange jumpsuit. I know Tasha would cream her pants if I showed her this guy’s mugshot.
He sits down across from me, brows furrowed with confusion.
We pick up the phone at the same time, but before he can fuck everything up, I start talking. “I can’t believe they mistook you for the murderer! Don’t worry, I’m going to tell them how you were with me all night. Are they treating you alright in here? Is there anything they’ll let me get you? Cigarettes? The unfiltered ones?”
He does a good job of picking up what I’m putting down, especially since I used the code word, cigarettes, that Max gave me. One they all agreed on if things went tits up.
“It’s so good to see you, baby.”
His eyes flick to my name badge, which I had the good sense of writing my name on in giant letters.
“What can you tell me? Why is this happening?”
He leans forward, placing his hand on the smudged glass. I do the same, playing into the idea that we’re a couple. “Julia, they’re just looking to pin this on someone, and I guess they think I fit the description, but the guys in that video didn’t even have an eyebrow piercing.” He gestures to the now missing piece of jewelry. They probably made him take it out.
“How can I help?”
“Just let them know where I was that night.” His dark eyes bore into mine, pleading.
“I will.”
“Times up.” The guard grabs Rocco up by his arm, yanking him aggressively. Sometimes, I think there are guys who get into that profession because they get off on bullying others. It’s clear by how rough the guard handles Rocco on the way out that he falls into that category. The guard is wearing a smirk on his smug face, like he’s enjoying the power he holds over him.
We need to get him out of here. There’s no knowing what will become of him in a place like this if that’s how they treat him out in the open.
I just hope they believe my story.
“I told you, it’s a new relationship. He came into the coffee shop, and we’ve been out a handful of times. He was with me that whole night.” My frustration is mounting as the lead detective grills me. I’ve been in this tiny room for hours, and my head is pounding.
Going to see Rocco was an essential step in my plan. A girlfriend would want to make sure her man was okay. I’m just glad he didn’t give away my true identity.
The detective throws a grainy-looking picture taken from the video on the table. It’s zoomed in on Rocco’s half-hidden face.
“You’re trying to tell me your boyfriend isn’t this man?”
I raise my eyebrow and look at the photo. “I already told you it’s not. He was with me.”From that angle it could be anyone. They’re just looking to place blame , I tell myself, as I raise my chin.
The detective’s face is gaunt-looking under the harsh fluorescent lights that continuously buzz in the background. His receding hairline is peppered with streaks of grey, and his under eyes are streaked purple.
“You understand that you could be charged with obstruction of justice?” I do my best not to sweat under the pressure.
This seemed like such a better idea in the cabin. Now that I’m here, it’s seeming less like a brilliant stroke of genius and more like a way that’s going to land me in my own orange jumpsuit. I don’t care what that show says about orange being the new black. It’s not my color, and I know it. It makes my blonde hair look brassy and turns my skin pallor into one that looks sallow.
They release me with a promise to be in touch. I can’t get to the car fast enough. I need a shower, my bed, and the most comfortable pair of pajamas I own.
“How did it go? Do you think it worked?” Max asks. I don’t miss the hopeful lilt to his tone.
“I don’t know.” Either they’ll believe my flimsy alibi, or they’ll arrest my ass and Max along with me if they discover the truth.