Chapter 3 #2
I quietly slip from the bed and tiptoe across the floor, locking myself behind the safety of the bathroom door.
I turn the faucet to a searing heat and turn the shower on, then sit inside the tub, curling my arms around my knees as the water cascades down my back.
My sanity is teetering on the edge, and I don’t know how to escape the predicament I’ve found myself in.
The memory of Dylan’s hand clasped around my throat as he thrust into me mocks me: he’ll always go home to her. You’re simply a reprieve from the monotony of his everyday life.
The words continue to churn in my mind until I can’t fight back the tears any longer.
Sobs wrack through my chest, and I wash away the indiscretions of our sins, scrubbing my skin raw until it’s free of his scent.
I’m trapped between the Devil and Judas, knowing both men are ripping my soul to shreds and leaving me for dead.
The bathroom door opens, and Dylan twists the lever until the water shuts off. He pulls a towel off the rack and wraps it around my shoulders, then he braces one arm around my back and the other under my knees as he lifts me against his chest and carries me back to bed.
“Jesus, you’re freezing, Justice.” He pats the towel over my body to dry me, then wrings the excess water from my hair before pulling his button-down shirt over my head.
Crawling into the bed beside me, he tucks me against his chest and pulls the blanket up over us.
“Why did you get out of bed? What’s going on?
” I pinch my eyes closed and shake my head.
We sit like that for long moments, only the sound of my stuttered breathing and the rainfall filling the air.
“Say something, Justice.”
“I can’t trust myself with you…” I manage to say, but my voice doesn’t sound familiar to my own ears.
“You’re an addiction I can’t quit, and this will cost me my life.
I want to hate you for pulling me into your hold.
I want to hate you for filling my head full of fables and fairy tales that will never come true because my story doesn’t end with a happily ever after. ”
“Justice…” Dylan sighs and scrubs a hand over his face, but I don’t wait for him to continue.
“I want to hate you, but I can’t. You don’t deserve my love, yet you have it.
I hate myself for saying those words out loud because I know that love will never be reciprocated even though I deserve that.
I deserve to be loved, to be cherished. I deserve to be more than a dirty little secret, one that you intentionally sought out to climb your way through your career.
Loving you is dangerous, Dylan, and if you don't protect me from Harlan, my blood will be on your hands.”
Dylan turns around and cradles my face in his hands. His face is stricken with remorse and conflict. I’m a freshly cut wound, and he’s about to pour salt all over me. “I owe you an explanation, but instead of giving you one I took from you.”
“Because you’re no better than he is….” I reply defiantly, pulling away from him and settling back in the bed. He jerks back as if I’ve slapped him, glaring at me angrily.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t compare me to that worthless bastard, Justice. That’s low.”
I roll my eyes and huff. “Go on, Dylan. Spin your wheel of lies.”
He glares at me, and the tic in his jaw tells me he’s attempting to steel his frustration. “You ignored me, Dylan. No communication. You drove right past me, knowing I’d be on edge with Harlan being home.”
“That’s another thing.” He cuts me off. “My family is off-limits, Justice. You’re crossing a thin line into territory you can’t come back from.”
I’m taken aback by the veiled threat in his words, but I keep my focus pinned on why we’re here in the first place. My family.
“Then explain it all to me! Make me understand. You assured me that once I confirmed Harlan’s delivery, you would set everything up to intercept his shipment.
I did everything you asked of me without question..
What went wrong?” I plead, needing to understand how Harlan was able to walk away from this arrest scot-free.
Dylan climbs from the bed and pulls on his slacks, putting further distance between us when he sits in the armchair across the room. It’s better this way, I suppose. He can’t touch me. He can’t soothe my open wounds. His words can simply constrict me with their venomous truth.
“After Harlan’s arraignment on Monday, I was ordered back to Lexington. My superiors aren’t very happy with the fact that he’s walking free, and I had to answer for that.”
My patience is wearing thin, and his self-righteous attempts of covering his ass is pulling back the veil and showing me where his loyalty lies. With the FBI. Not me.
“And what was your answer for that? I’ve been walking on eggshells all week, Dylan.”
“Bad intel, Justice. I don’t know if your cover’s been made, or if Harlan is covering his tracks closely.
Everything about this case has been fucked, and not a damn thing is getting easier the further we dig into it.
” He sighs, cracking his neck before continuing.
“When the DEA made the bust, they could only charge him with drug possession because he didn’t have enough on his person to warrant the charges of Intent to Distribute or trafficking.
We have no idea where the fucking delivery is, and at this point, we’re back at square one. ”
“Even still, possession should have been enough to at least indict him, considering it wasn’t his first strike.”
“The fuck ups that are the Hatfield County Deputies forgot to mirandize Harlan at the time of his arrest. That bought his freedom. The DEA is looking into other avenues to obtain an arrest while the FBI is looking deeper into his connection with the Donovan Syndicate. Those Irish fucks are nearly untouchable, but we’re hoping Harlan slips up.
Maybe if we can pinpoint their shipments coming into Savannah, or even the trafficking from there to Kentucky we can effectively charge Harlan and the syndicate will crumble behind him.
I’d love nothing more than to bring the entire organization down.
This is why it’s important for you to be honest with me about everything Harlan does. ”
Standing, Dylan makes his way to the bed and sits across from me.
He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear then cups my face.
“And as for breaking promises, you have to understand what I’ve put on the line just to protect you.
I love my family, Justice. I’ll never deny that.
But I’ll never turn my back on you. I can’t explain what we have between us.
I can’t promise you the moon and the stars, but I’m doing my damnedest to make sure you get away from that bastard and will have the life you deserve. ”
“How much longer before this is all over? I’m barely hanging on as it is,” I admit on an exhausted sob.
“Harlan’s case rests in your hands. I know you’re ready for this to be done with so we can move on, but you have to get deeper with him. It’s not fair, sweetheart, I understand that, but I can’t promise your safety until I latch the cuffs around his wrists.”
I nod and crawl into his lap, knowing the safety I feel in his arms isn’t real. “There’s more, Justice…” he mutters against the top of my head.
I don’t want to hear more.
Suddenly the foreboding feeling I’ve fought all night feels heavier, like the ax is about to swing and break the boulder of his untruths free. He takes my silence as permission to continue.
“I’m working on another case that will require me to be unavailable for a few weeks. I’ll stay in contact through your burner as I can, but do not hesitate to text me if you have information.”
Is he really working another case, or is this his way of putting distance between us, cutting the tethers that bind me to him?
Dylan’s promises of protection are all a facade, and I’m just a pawn in his devious game.