Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Irun down the stairs to Frankie. Hudson is right beside me. He reaches for his sister while I have my gun trained on the body now bleeding out on the floor. She got him in the right fucking spot. Good.
“Who are you?” I ask him.
He smiles up at me. “Fuck you.” Blood splatters out of his mouth, and then I see the moment the life drains from his eyes.
“Fuck.” I holster my gun and turn to Frankie, who looks ashen white. “Babe, you’re okay.” I tug her to me.
“I… I killed him,” she whispers.
“You did good.” I kiss the top of her head. “I need you to go with Hudson.”
“What? No, I’m not leaving you.” She clings to my jacket.
“Hudson, bring the car around front. Call it in,” I tell him.
“Frankie, it’s going to be okay.” He looks to his sister. “Promise,” he says. “I’ll be back. I’ll bring the car up.”
Hudson leaves and it’s just the two of us, and the dead asshole on the ground. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’m leaving you here alone, Emilio,” Frankie says.
“I need you to go home so I can get this cleaned up.” Leaning down, I pull the knife out of the asshole’s neck, using his shirt to wipe the handle clean of Frankie’s prints.
The door next to us opens and that’s when all hell breaks loose. Without thought, I wrap a palm around the knife before dropping it on the body and holding my hands in the air. My prints will be all over that weapon.
I look to Frankie. “Don’t say a fucking word. Call my father.”
“What? No!” she screams as three police officers approach us.
One shoves me against the desk, slapping a pair of cuffs around my wrists.
“Stop! He didn’t do this!” she yells.
“What the fuck?” Hudson walks back into the room.
“Stay there.” One of the officers has a gun trained on Hudson.
“I’m just here to pick up my sister.”
And that’s when another cop puts cuffs on Frankie. “Stop! Don’t fucking touch her, asshole. She has nothing to do with this.”
“You’re both being brought in for questioning.”
“There’s no need to question her. I did it. Check the knife. You’ll find my prints on it,” I tell him.
“Emilio, what the hell?” Frankie screams at me. “Shut up!”
“It’s okay.” I’m not letting this fall on her. If it’s a choice between me and her, I pick her every fucking time. “Call my father!” I yell out to Hudson.
He’s already pressing buttons on his phone. “Where are you taking them? Which station?” he asks the cops.
My eyes fall to Frankie. “Don’t say anything.”
“Let’s go.” The cop holding my arm drags me away. My eyes stay locked on Frankie until we’re separated.
Fuck! What the fuck did I do?
I never should have let her out of the fucking house. I knew this asshole was still out there somewhere but I wanted to give her everything. I didn’t want her feeling trapped. I’m a fucking idiot.
I’m taken into the station and shoved into an interview room. I don’t say anything. The fuckers also don’t remove the fucking cuffs from my wrists. They did, however, strip me of every weapon I had on me before dropping me into the patrol car.
I’ve been watching the clock. It’s been two hours since they sat me in here. No one has come in to say anything. I did tell them I wanted my lawyer, and that was the last I spoke to anyone.
My mind is whirling, going through scenarios of what’s happening to Frankie. I hate not being able to protect her. She should have never been in this situation.
Leaning back in the chair, I roll my neck from side to side. I’m fucking pissed. I’m fucking worried, and I’m fucking tired.
The door finally opens. I don’t bother looking up. I’m not giving them the satisfaction of thinking the waiting is getting to me.
“Your lawyer is here.” Some detective walks in with none other than our family’s criminal defense lawyer. Matteo Valentino.
Matteo sits next to me. He’s the best in the country.
When my father put him on retainer before I was even born, he made sure he was licensed to practice in Las Vegas.
It also doesn’t hurt that he’s the brother of the current Don of one of New York’s Italian mafia families.
If anyone knows how my family works, it’s him.
I am curious how he got here so fucking quick, though.
“Remove the cuffs from my client before I claim brutality.”
“He’s being charged with manslaughter. We have reason to keep him cuffed,” the detective says.
“Yeah? Have you charged him yet? Or are you interrogating him?”
“The murder weapon is currently being processed. Are we going to find your prints on it?” the detective asks me.
“Don’t answer that,” Matteo interjects.
“He already admitted to the crime, Mr. Valentino.”
“He was confused, under duress after finding a body bleeding out,” Matteo says, and I can’t help but smirk.
“Mr. Lopez, what were you doing in the lecture hall? You’re not a registered student.”
“Don’t answer that,” Matteo repeats.
I sit and do as I’m told.
This continues for over an hour, when the detective finally gets up, frustration written all over his face, and leaves the room.
“I’ll be right back.” Matteo walks out, then reappears two minutes later. He sits opposite me and looks up at the camera in the corner of the room. When the red light switches off, he looks back down at me. “What the fuck were you thinking admitting to a murder?”
“Where is my girlfriend? You need to make sure she’s okay and get her the fuck out of this station,” I tell him.
“Frankie is with Olivia. She’s fine. They’re questioning her but not charging her. It’s you they’re interested in,” Matteo says. Olivia is his sister-in-law and partner in the firm. She’s just as good an attorney as Matteo is.
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes.
“I’m going to need details, Emilio. What happened?”
“I killed him. What more do you need to know?”
“Why?”
“Does it matter? We’re bad guys. It’s what we do. I gave the asshole the severance package he deserved.”
“Not a time for jokes.”
“I wasn’t joking,” I deadpan.
Matteo takes out his phone and makes a call, putting it on speaker. My father’s voice comes through. “Emilio?”
“Yeah, Papa, I’m here.”
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I did the same thing you would have done,” I tell him, without telling him shit. I don’t trust this room, or the fact people are listening, even if they’re not supposed to be.
“We will get you out of there. It’s going to take a while.”
“I know.” I fully understand I am not going home today or tomorrow, for that matter. “Just make sure she’s okay.”
“Always,” my father says. “Listen to Valentino. Do whatever he tells you to do.”
“Yep.”
“Right. They will set a bail hearing, but they’ll drag it out as long as they can. It will likely be a couple of days. You’re going to have to endure all the red tape for the time being. If they try to question you when I’m not here, you’re to say one word: lawyer,” Matteo instructs.
“Okay.” I nod. “Is she out yet?”
“I’ll check.” He stands, putting the phone to his ear and talking to my father as he walks out of the room.
I’m left alone again. I don’t care how long I have to rot in a cell, as long as she doesn’t have to.
Ten minutes later, Matteo walks back in. “She went home.”
“Good.”
“It wasn’t easy to get her to leave,” he tells me.
“I could imagine.” I chuckle. She’s fiery and I know she wants to protect me as much as I want to protect her. “Did she say anything?”
“Yeah, she did.” He looks me dead in the eye. “She said they can’t use anything she said about you as testimony because she’s your wife.”
My eyes widen. “She’s what now?”
“Smart girl, that one. But the marital clause applies to court testimony, not police questioning.”
“What happens when they find out she lied?” I ask him.
“They’ll bring her back in. Question her again. She was there, as a witness. They will use her against you. She either lies on the stand or tells the truth.”
“You can’t let her take that stand. Waive my right to a trial,” I tell him.
“The law doesn’t work that way, Emilio. They’re going to process you. I’ll come see you in the morning. Try not to kill anyone else in the meantime.”
“Can’t make promises.” I smirk.
Matteo shakes his head and stands. I watch him walk out.
Fucking Frankie. They’re going to go harder on her when they find out she lied about being my wife.