Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“My brothers. I can’t tell them about you.”
“Say I’m some guy you hooked up with.”
“Okay, go hide. I’ll pretend you left.”
I didn’t love the idea, but at least he seemed more with it now. He could handle this with his brothers’ help. “All right, but call them now. Hurry.”
“Go upstairs and stay there.” The arrogance was back in his voice, and it made me smile.
“What if you need—”
“I need to protect you. You… Fuck. You saved my life.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” I didn’t need things to get any more complicated between us.”
“Yeah, I do.” He tapped his phone, and a moment later, whichever Theriot he’d called answered.
I retreated toward the stairs and stepped out of his sight while staying close enough to hear what he said.
I was a hell of a lot better off if his family knew nothing about me, and I sure as hell didn’t need to meet them under these circumstances. I had no doubt they’d suspect I had something to do with the explosion, but I would do whatever it took to protect Rafe. I didn’t like thinking about what that meant. How had he gotten to me so fast and so deeply?
14
RAFE
Afew moments after I sent Zach away, a plainclothes cop banged on my door, and I turned off the water. The pain that surged through my hand made me gasp. How could I have been so stupid? I wasn’t getting into that car. The worst thing was, grabbing a burning piece of metal might not be the stupidest thing I’d done that night.
I took a deep breath. I could do this. I hated how I’d fallen apart in front of Zach, but I wasn’t going to let myself look weak in front of a fucking cop.
He started speaking as soon as I opened the door. “I’m Detective Robichaux.” He gestured toward my car and the motorcycle that was also destroyed. “Are these your vehicles?” He flashed his detective badge as he asked the question.
Remington told me to be as vague as possible until he got there and took over. “They were. I guess they’re not anymore.”
The detective glared at me, but I ignored him and surveyed the scene. Firefighters were spraying my car with a hose while more police officers corralled neighbors and told them to go back inside. None of them seemed inclined to listen. I’d want to watch, too, if it weren’t my car.
“Your neighbor called this in. They said you went back inside the house after it happened. Why didn’t you call 911?”
“I was in shock. I burned my hand.”
Robichaux glanced down and frowned. “How did that happen?”
I might as well tell the truth since it would be on video from some neighbor’s camera and probably some asshole’s phone. “I tried to get something out of the car.”
“After it exploded?”
“Yes.”
Robichaux huffed. “You’re lucky all you got is a burned hand.”
He was exactly as sympathetic as I expected him to be. I had no doubt he knew exactly who I was and hoped he’d be able to pin something on me tonight.
“You should have one of the paramedics look at that when we’re done here.” Not before he interrogated me, obviously, only after.
“I’ll be fine. Go ahead with whatever questions you have for me.”
“Who would want to plant a bomb in your car?”
At least he was getting right to the point. “I have no idea. Are you sure it was a bomb, not just a mechanical failure?”
He raised his brows. “Seriously?”
I shrugged. “I’m no mechanic. How should I know? Obviously, cars don’t usually explode spontaneously, but I assumed it was possible. I don’t know why anybody would want to blow my car up.”
“You don’t? You can’t imagine a single reason?”
I held his gaze, keeping my expression neutral. “No, I don’t.”
Robichaux sighed. “We can do this here and you can cooperate, or we can go down to the station.”
“I’m the victim here. Somebody blew up my car and ruined my motorcycle. And look at the damage to my house and my yard. I’m not the person you need to take to the station.”
“Then who is?”
“That’s for you to find out.”
He scowled at me. “If you actually wanted to find whoever did this, you would answer my questions.”
“I’ve answered all of them.”
I forced myself not to smile when Remington pulled up in front of my house. The police might not think anything of being assholes to me, but Robichaux’s attitude was going to change when Remington confronted him. I watched my cousin step out of one of the family’s black SUVs. He wouldn’t dare get his beloved Ferrari near a fire.
He greeted one of the firefighters, shaking hands and clapping him on the back. Then he checked in with the paramedics, probably wanting to be sure no one had been injured. Finally, he started walking toward us. Another detective rushed over when he saw Remington.