Chapter Fifty-One
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Lincoln/ Two Years Ago
I t’s been two weeks of silence echoing in the empty halls of the house, and every creak in the night sounds like my demons taunting me with their laughter.
I made it a point to give Georgia her space to show her that I was willing to be patient. I knew she still went to the bookstore because I needed to make sure she was okay from a distance, but that was the extent of my prying.
And it killed me.
“You look like shit,” Conklin notes, patting my shoulder as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the breakroom pot. “Still nothing?”
Grumbling, I chug down the rest of the burnt coffee beans and set the mug into the sink. “No. I don’t know what to do, man.”
Sympathy coats his face as he turns and leans his back against the edge of the counter. He looks thoughtful as he sips his drink. “I guess the question you need to ask yourself is if you want to make it work.”
“Of course I do,” I snap.
He eyes me. “Fine. Follow-up question. Do you want to make it work because you love her or because you don’t want to prove her father right?”
I go to answer but stop myself. Can’t it be both? “He doesn’t deserve to win after everything.”
Conklin shakes his head. “Nah, man. You can’t look at it as winning or losing. This isn’t a game. This is your life.”
Then why does it feel like that? “If you were in my shoes, what would you do?”
For once, he doesn’t seem to have an answer. I could always count on him having some sort of advice for me. But I think this goes above what he’s used to.
He scratches the column of his throat. “I thought you might want to know that we pulled over Jakob Volley last week. He had almost thirty grams of heroin and twenty grams of coke on him and ten grand cash.”
Christ. That amount of drugs is an A-level felony. “Where’d you yank him?”
“He was coming in from the city. We think he picked up the supply from his contact and was bringing it in to distribute to the local dealers.”
I nod in agreement. Most of the local dealers go through at least two other people to get their drugs. “He’ll get locked up for a while with that amount of shit. Good catch.”
Conklin clears his throat. “He already made bail.”
I gape at him. “They didn’t hold him? He’s a repeat offender. This is at least his third felony.”
My friend shrugs. “I’m just as surprised as you are, Hawk. I thought they’d keep him until a court date, but they said the jails are full. Somebody posted his bail within a day of his being in holding.”
“How much was it?”
“Two hundred thousand.”
“Bail bond?”
“Paid in cash.”
“Full?”
Conklin dips his chin once.
“Who paid it?”
His hesitation makes me prepare for the worst. “It was paid under Carlo Salvatore.”
“Okay, so there must be video surveillance of him paying it. We must have a face to the name.”
I can tell I’m about to be disappointed when Conklin sighs. “It was paid under the name Carlo Salvatore, but it was apparently a lawyer who came in to complete the transaction. Evan Maloney. Well-known attorney in the tri-county area. Has an office in Manhattan and here in Middle Point.”
Of course. “So we still don’t know who Carlo Fucking Salvatore is.”
All he does is shake his head.
“Great.” I hit the wall as I walk out of the breakroom. “Just fucking great.”
Conklin follows me, his coffee still in his hand. “Maybe Volley will strike a deal and talk. We could get him to tell us who Salvatore is. If not, he’s looking at five years. Maybe more because of his history. Guy like that wouldn’t survive prison.”
We stop at my office, and I scrub my tired face. “If you find out more, can you let me know?”
“You got it.” He pauses, looking around before lowering his voice. “Maybe you should head home and get some rest. When was the last time you slept?”
His guess is as good as mine. “Just tell me when you get an update on Volley.”
He nods, knowing the fight isn’t worth it.
Before I close myself inside, I sigh. “And thank you. For…everything. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”
Conklin chuckles. “Now I know you’re tired. You’re getting sappy on me.” I flip him off, causing his chuckle to turn into a snort. “Lucky for you, you’ll be stuck with my ass until the day one of us retires. Can’t get rid of me that easy.”
Rolling my eyes, I close the door and turn at the mess of papers and folders scattered everywhere.
Leaning against the door, I drop my head back and think about what Conklin said. I love Georgia, but do I hate the thought of her father being right more?
*
A few days later, Conklin and I walk into our favorite deli for lunch. We barely walk through the front door when we stop at the same time when we see the people across the room.
Conklin grabs my arm. “Don’t,” he says quietly when Georgia steps into Luca’s arms.
Hot, boiling anger fuels a fire that burns under my skin.
My friend’s grip on me tightens when my wife looks in my direction and freezes. But she doesn’t step away from the man she ran away from all those years ago.
Conklin quietly says, “Come on, Hawk. It’s not worth it.”
Isn’t it though? My muscles tense when she meets my eyes, and I see the decision in them then and there. She stands to her full height and steps into him, dipping her head in the crook of his neck and wrapping her arms around him like she’s seeking comfort.
Forget about anger.
Rage is what takes over my limbs.
Conklin tugs on me when I step forward, dragging me to the door with more force than I thought he had in him. He pushes me out and stands in front of me to block my reentry. “Go. I’ll meet you out there in a minute.”
My eyes flicker from him to the woman who’s still wearing my ring.
Swallowing, I make myself nod.
Because what the hell can I do? Punching him clearly didn’t work, so there’s no point in making a scene by doing it again.
Defeat has me standing down, letting him close the door that separates me and them.
Before I walk to the car, I see Georgia approach Conklin as he talks to the person behind the counter. She touches his arm and says something to him.
Not me.
She doesn’t try to reassure me.
Doesn’t try to comfort me.
My nostrils flare.
Chest inflating with hot air, I peel my gaze from the window and make an escape before I change my mind about going inside.
It’s not worth it.
She’s not worth it .
I don’t believe the lie.