Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
But after tonight, this case, the dirt in our department, and the things we were just now dragging into the light. Yeah, this was it for me. I was done.
I was going to walk away from the force and into something honest that belonged to me.
Roque still hadn’t said a word. He just stared straight ahead like he could will the walls around Sayla and those kids to collapse with focus alone. I figured it was time to break the silence and maybe remind him there was life after this.
“So,” I began, glancing sideways at him and trying to cut through the silence that had stretched tight between us, “were you serious about buying into the bar if I go for it?”
Roque didn’t move. His hands stayed locked on the wheel, knuckles pale under strain, but his voice came low and steady like it always did when he meant something. “I’ve already quit the department,” he ground out. “I just haven’t turned in the paperwork yet.”
That caught me off guard for a second—not that he was walking away, but that he’d made the choice conclusively and hadn’t said a word. Still, it wasn’t a shock. The job had been grinding him down for a while now, the same as it had been doing to the rest of us. And after everything with Sayla and the kids, it made sense that he’d had enough. We all had.
“You thinking about opening it for real?” I asked, pressing just a little, needing to hear it out loud. Not just because I wanted to know if I’d have a partner but because we both needed something solid to aim for on the other side of all this. A future we could build ourselves.
Roque finally turned his head just enough to meet my eyes. He looked exhausted—bone-deep tired—but a steadiness was behind that weariness, something anchored and certain. “If it gets me out of the force and helps me provide for my family, I’d give you my left arm to make it happen.”
I stared at him for a second, then nodded once, firm and final. We both turned back to the windshield, silence stretching again—but this time, it felt different—not as heavy and uncertain.
Roque exhaled slowly like the weight of everything he hadn’t said was pressing down on his ribs. His hands flexed on the wheel, then stilled again. “Before we walk away,” he said quietly, voice low and hard, “we’re going to clean out that goddamn department. Every last one of them. Every crooked cop that turned a blind eye or sold someone out—every bastard who let this happen. They’re going down, all of them.”
His voice had no heat—just certainty like it was already done. And in a way, I think it was.
I nodded. “Damn right, they are. That’s happening, no question.”
His jaw tightened, and his gaze drifted forward again, dark and distant. “And if there’s even a scratch on Sayla or those kids…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to.
I believed him. Hell, I wanted to believe him because the idea of anyone laying hands on them was enough to make my blood run hot.
“You won’t have to go alone. If they touched them, I’ll help you burn every one of those sons of bitches to the ground.”
He didn’t thank me, he just gave a single, sharp nod. Because some things didn’t need to be said out loud, some things were already understood.
The silence in the SUV stretched again, heavy but steady, the kind that settled between two men carrying the same weight. I leaned back slightly and pulled out my phone, thumbing quickly through my contacts until I found her name.
Cyn.
I didn’t think too hard about what I was doing—I just typed out a quick message.
How are you?
The reply came faster than I expected.
Fine, now bugger off.
I had to bite back a laugh, turning my head to hide the grin threatening to break through. Roque wouldn’t appreciate me cracking up while his world hung by a thread. But damn, I loved her fire. Cyn never sugarcoated a thing—she came in hot, stayed hot, and didn’t care who got burned. That fire had pissed me off more than once, but right then, it felt like a tether to something normal. Like something was still right in a world turned upside down.
I typed another message.
How’s Wick?
That one took a few seconds longer, but when it came through, I could almost hear the smile in her voice.
Giving me hell and owning the world.
I was still reading it when a follow-up buzzed in.
Now bugger off.
I smirked and leaned back against the headrest. There was a strange comfort in her sharp edges. In knowing there were still people like her out there—fierce, fearless, and just as unwilling to bend as the rest of us.
Beneath all her snark and bite, under the sharp tongue and those expertly built walls, I knew Cyn still gave a damn—probably more than she ever wanted me to realize. She wore her armor well and made sure most people saw her fire before they saw her heart, but I’d caught glimpses of it in the way she talked about Wick and didn’t hesitate to throw herself into something if it meant protecting someone she cared about.