SEVEN
This place smellslike dirty cops and bad decisions. It’s not a wonder that’s what comes to mind when the first fucking person my eyes land on is Brian. I should have known he’d be here, hovering, when what went down at SIN last night is likely all over the police department at this point.
Every time I look at the scumbag, all I see is sleazy corruptness rolling off him. I’ve heard rumors, and when I combine that with what I personally know of him, I have no doubt what he’s capable of. I don’t need my sister to tell me what she’s been through. I see it in her eyes. Fuck.
I tear my attention from my bastard of a brother-in-law to look around the room, taking note of every single person. The reception area is almost overflowing. And really, I should have realized there might be a shit ton of people from both SIN and TZE here. Whether they’re here for further questioning, like we are, or just because they’ve accompanied a friend—nosy assholes—who the fuck knows? I eye those girls Savannah and Ireland who had been a pain in Echo’s ass last night. I haven’t asked if she’d mentioned the drink being sloshed on her, but I’d bet money that’s why they’re here. I nudge Echo to see what she thinks of their antics. She rolls her eyes and gives a shrug, turning away from them, then points out Ozzie, Maxwell, and Wyatt leaning against the wall, looking put out. My brow furrows as I study them. They look fucking bored out of their skulls. I can’t figure why they’d have been brought in, except perhaps they mentioned seeing something.
Unable to put this off any longer, the four of us make our way to the reception desk, and when the officer on duty looks up with an arched brow, I suck in all my irritation at being here and grit out, “Hey, we were asked by Detective Simms to come by this morning about the incident at Sigma Iota Nu.” My eyes flick around the room. Memories are heavy here. The swarm of officers moving to and fro. Me not knowing who might be helpful and who would jump to conclusions. Worry that I’d end up stuck here, that I’d walked in those doors of my own volition to answer their questions, but that they might not allow me to leave. Questions. So many fucking questions.
With a subtle nod, the desk clerk focuses on the screen in front of him and, after a few clicks, demands, “Names?”
A slow tremor rolls through me. I will forever equate this building to a place where nightmares can come true. My eyes flick to Royal, wondering if he feels the same fucking way. I haven’t forgotten for a second that this isn’t going to be a cakewalk for him either. His gaze meets mine, and I draw in a ragged breath, realizing the rather impatient dick behind the desk is now giving me a snide look.
And just like that, Royal gives me a quick nod of reassurance before clearing his throat. “Royal Kaplan, Echo Madden, Wilder Emory, and Beckham Benneti.”
All I can handle at the moment is keeping my eyes focused straight ahead of me. It means a lot that he’d step in like that.
The desk clerk juts his chin, and when I shift to see who he’s looking at, another officer is busy giving us a knowing look, one that screams Here are our prime suspects, even though we didn’t do a damn thing. “Yep, they’re expecting you. Have a seat wherever you can find one, and someone will be out to get you momentarily.”
Turning, I find Beckham has pinned me with a concerned stare, those startling blue eyes of his searching not only my face, but also my body. He’s looking for clues as to how I’m handling this. He mouths, “You okay?”
And I nod. Because what the fuck else am I supposed to do?
Echo squeezes my hand, looking up at me with eyes consumed by worry that simply shouldn’t be there. I work my jaw to the side, then squeeze her hand back. “Let’s sit. This’ll all be over soon.”
Beckham ushers us over to a couple of empty chairs along the wall. Royal sits and pulls a sundress-clad Echo onto his lap. Beck gestures to the remaining seat, but I shake my head, offering it to him. For some reason, I pause, and as I do, a hand clamps onto my shoulder, and I stumble backward.
Quickly righting myself, I turn around, only to have Brian’s rude voice assault my ears, his hot breath in my face. “A word, brother?”
My body tenses, and I jerk away from his hold. “I’m not your goddamn brother.”
Huffing out a laugh, he turns, eyeing my friends, who are this close to leaping out of their chairs. I sharply jerk my head in silent warning, signaling them to stay put. He slowly shakes his head, his gaze reconnecting with mine. He’s right the fuck in my face, and I have to fight a horrible urge to headbutt him.
He looks over my shoulder at Beckham and murmurs low, “So, you had your little boyfriend send me away from the scene last night, but you wanna know something?” My brow furrows at his commentary on my relationship with Beckham. Not a fucking clue how he knows anything, but I don’t say a fucking word. He shoots me a nasty smile and blesses me with the rest of his thoughts anyway. “That didn’t stop me from looking into the case. And I’ll keep looking. Because a single murder investigation is one thing. But two? Odd coincidence.” His words come out slithery, like a fucking snake.
My heart gives a hard thump against my rib cage as my entire body bristles at the implication in his words. This fucker enrages me. And he knows he has me right where he wants me.
“What? Got nothing to say? I could make your life immensely fucking difficult.” The arch of his brow sets me on edge because there’s a nasty glint in his eye that holds a hint of something I’m not so sure I like. This asshole is asking for it.
My lip curls. It’s not like I’m going to tackle the bastard in the middle of the police department or anything, but I can have fun imagining it all the same. He feels secure only because he knows he can piss me off and I can’t do anything about it.
“No. I’ve got a whole lot of nothing to fucking say to you, detective.” I roll my shoulders back and let out an aggravated breath, daring him with a come-at-me look to fuck around and find out. He knows very well I could knock him out with a single punch to that hard head of his.
He chuckles, taunting me as he eyes the savage look on my face. “Anyway, lemme know how it goes back there. Maybe we should plan a family dinner so you can freak your sister the fuck out in person. She’s already pacing the floors after what I’ve told her so far. I imagine she has some questions for you.”
That statement right there is the only thing that remotely matters to me. I bite back a retort, instead mashing my lips together. This fucker delights in poking the bear. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare into his beady eyes and click my tongue before grinding out, “Funny, I have questions for her, too… ones you probably don’t want me asking, either. So why don’t you drop the good cop act right now? It’s not fooling anyone.”
He gives me an ugly, sour look. Even though he’s gotta be aware I know what he’s doing to River, he’s completely without remorse for any of it. A second later, he shoulder-checks me on his way to the door. He spins around, pausing to taunt me with a cruel twist of his lips, and gives a dark chuckle, eyeing our entire crew. His gaze lingers way too fucking long on Echo, even as he addresses me. “Sorry. Didn’t see you there, man.” He laughs again, making me want to rearrange his fucking face.
Anger and disgust battle inside me for supremacy, and I draw in a deep breath, on the verge of going after him to put my foot up his ass when Royal catches my eye. “Wilder.” He gives the barest shake of his head. I easily read the concern in his eyes. “Don’t,” he murmurs softly, his gaze tracking over to Brian, who watches our interaction with interest.
I draw in air to fill my lungs and push it back out over and over again. Remain calm. I’ve gotta be fucking calm. Watch my step. Bide my time. Because eventually Brian will get what’s coming to him for what he’s doing to my sister. I feel it.
As he leaves, there’s a clearing of a throat, and after a beat, I exhale and turn around. A harried-looking older man in a suit has come over and scans our group, then nods. “I’d like to see Royal Kaplan and Beckham Benneti first, please.” This must be the other detective.
Continuing to regulate my breathing, because that’s all I can manage at the moment, I watch as they stand and Royal sets Echo on her feet in front of him. My eyes connect with Beckham’s and Royal’s for a moment, an unspoken agreement passing among us. Say nothing more than we have to. That’s what we discussed before leaving the house. If the questioning takes a wrong turn, we stop answering and get a lawyer.
I watch as they head down the hallway. The detective puts Beckham in a room on the left and Royal in one directly across the hall. I wonder if Detective Simms is here, too, or if it’s just this old guy dealing with all of us. Maybe it doesn’t fucking matter if she’s here or not. I hadn’t been a fan, but she’s the lesser of two evils if we have a choice between her and my brother-in-law.
Echo places a hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
I turn, running a hand over my face, and Echo edges closer to my side. Her voice comes out clipped. “He didn’t have a right to say any of that shit to you.”
“He’s a fucking dick,” I grit out, observing my asshole brother-in-law, who stands outside his truck.
“Now that I know what he’s really like, I kinda wanna tell him to cut the shit and quit putting on a show. Let his real asshole tendencies out.” She grits her teeth. “I have to pee before they drag me into some room. You’ll be okay for a minute?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
She nods, and my eyes follow the path she takes, first stopping at the desk where the clerk points down the hallway, then hurrying along to the restroom. I draw in a breath, then make my way to one of the seats they vacated and sink into it. My elbows rest on my thighs as I lean forward, head bowed.
The sudden, incessant buzzing of my phone tickles my thigh, and I lean to the side, pulling my phone from my pocket. My brows immediately dart together as I read the text notifications coming in from my sister.
Hey, I heard some bad stuff happened last night.
I hope you’re okay.
Please call me soon.
I’m sorry I got upset with you the other day.
I know you mean well.
And I wish I could leave.
You don’t understand everything.
Her words gut me. Both because of the pain apparent in them and also the idea there is something I don’t know about that may be holding her there, trapped. I heave out a disturbed breath as I tap out a quick response.
Hey. I’m here.
Are you still at the station?
I am. They have more questions.
I haven’t gone back yet.
Wilder …
What are the odds you could do me a favor?
I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.
What the fuck’s this? Her anxiety practically bleeds from the screen. I can’t imagine what she’s about to ask. I’m still pondering what this could be about when her next message comes through.
Can you find a way into Brian’s office?
Oh hell. That hadn’t even crossed my mind as being in the realm of possibilities. What the fuck, River? My eyes crash shut as I work my jaw back and forth. I can’t fathom why she’d be asking, and the dots signaling an impending message jump up and down for a long time, like she’s either writing a book or doesn’t know how to say what she needs to say.
I know it’s a big ask.
And maybe impossible.
I need to know where he’s going the weekend of the 16th.
He told me he’d be out of town.
But it’s nowhere on his calendar app.
I don’t know what I’m asking you to look for.
My brow furrows. Their anniversary. Fuck. What the hell is this about? Now more than ever, there’s an insistent warning bell going off in my head, telling me I have to help her get away from him—and soon. I don’t know why she’s so resistant to it when all she’s sent me over the last several months are photos of the bruises he’s inflicted. I exhale hard. It makes no sense to me why she won’t just run. I’d help her.
And now this. I draw in a ragged breath and tap out a response.
I don’t like this, Riv.
I know. I’m sorry.
No. That’s not what I mean.
I will always fucking help you.
But how many times do I need to beg you to leave?
She doesn’t answer, and I immediately know I’ve made her cry. I feel it in my gut. Goddammit. Frustrated, I run a hand down my face, coming to the only conclusion I can. I truly will do anything for her.
Going to break into the asshole’s office now.