Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
He didn’t stand.
Didn’t smile.
Just lifted his eyes to mine, dark and steady, like he’d been expecting this. That alone nearly sent me over the edge.
“You got some nerve,” I stated, my voice echoing harder than I intended. “Sitting here like nothing happened.”
The room went quiet.
Burn muttered something under his breath and backed away. Smart man.
Dante pushed back his chair and stood slowly. “We need to talk.”
“No,” I shot back. “You need to explain.”
His jaw tightened. “Not here.”
“Try me,” I challenged. “Because I flew three hundred miles, then got in a damn rental car to drive through the mountains to ask why the man I personally delivered a US Marshall under a federal warrant for has vanished off the face of the earth.”
Murmurs rippled through the room. Dante didn’t flinch.
“Office,” he ordered and I looked around wondering why he thought he could boss me like some child. “Now.”
Nobody argued. They went back to whatever they were doing without a single pause to take in what I had going on. Deciding it was better to get flies with honey over vinegar, I made my way to the back office he was referring to.
The door shut behind us with a heavy click that made my pulse spike.
I rounded on him the second we were alone. “What did you do?” I demanded. “What the hell did you do, Dante?”
His eyes flickered—just once. That was answer enough.
“You son of a bitch,” I breathed. “You killed him.”
“I didn’t pull the trigger,” he stated evenly like that made some kind of difference.
I laughed—a sharp, humorless sound. “That’s your defense?”
“He was removed,” Dante said. “Permanently.”
I slammed my palm against the desk. “Do you have any idea what you just did to my case?”
He stepped closer. “You don’t have a case anymore.”
“Oh, I absolutely did,” I snapped. “I had him dead to rights. He was going to prison for decades. Decades, Dante. You didn’t need to touch him.”
“You didn’t see what he did,” Dante said quietly.
I froze.
“I know everything that man did,” I said. “I followed the money. I saw the damage. Families ruined. Bodies buried. You think you’re the only one who cared?”
“He framed Gonzo’s son,” Dante shot back. “He had Pop Squally killed. The man who was a father to Lamonte and mattered to all of us when we served under him was dead because of Hampton Stanley and he put GJ on the hook for a murder he didn’t commit. Lamonte would have avenged Pop Squally if he was alive too.”
The words landed like a punch.
My chest tightened.
“He murdered Pop Squally,” he continued, voice low, lethal. “Blamed GJ. Put him in a cage and smiled while doing it.”
I swallowed. “And now you’ve turned him into a martyr,” I stated. “You’ve given every dirty politician in this county an excuse to scream conspiracy.”
“He disappeared,” Dante said. “That’s all anyone knows.”
“Exactly,” I snapped. “Which means now it looks like the federal investigator with personal ties to this town loses her suspect under mysterious circumstances. Do you know what that does to my credibility?”
He didn’t answer.
“Do you?” I pressed.
His silence burned worse than shouting.
“I stuck my neck out,” I shared, my voice cracking despite my effort to hold it steady. “I called in favors. I burned bridges. I put my name on that warrant. And now there’s no body. No defendant. No prosecution.”
“You’re clean,” he said.
“No,” I shot back. “I’m compromised.”
He frowned. “Juanita—”
“Don’t,” I warned. “Don’t use my name like that. Not when you just torched my career.”
His eyes darkened. “I didn’t do this to hurt you.”
“That’s almost worse,” I said bitterly. “Because it means you didn’t even consider me.”
The truth hung between us, heavy and sharp.
Dante exhaled slowly. “I would’ve protected you.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me,” I snapped. “I’m not some woman you shield from the ugly parts of the world.”
“I know exactly who you are,” he said. “That’s why I kept you out of it.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t keep me out. You dragged me in and then pulled the rug out from under me.”
He stepped closer, voice lowering. “He was never going to see a cell.”
I scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”
“He had contingency plans,” Dante explained. “Judges. Friends. Leverage. He would’ve delayed, appealed, stalled until something broke.”
“Like my case?” I challenged.
“Like you,” he stated firmly.
That stopped me cold. “They would’ve come for you,” Dante whispered gently. “And I wasn’t going to let that happen.”
Anger flared hot and bright. “So instead make him a missing man and a pissed-off federal agency?”
“I ended the threat,” he stated simply.
I stared at him, chest heaving. “You crossed a line,” I said.
He didn’t deny it.
“You think justice is whatever hurts less for you,” I continued. “But justice is about accountability. About letting the system work.”
“The system fails,” Dante calmly shared the obvious.
Silence swallowed the room. I rubbed a hand over my face, suddenly exhausted. “You don’t get to rewrite the rules because you’re angry.”