Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
"Nik," Mike said softly. His anger was gone, replaced with sheer confusion.
I climbed to my feet and went to stand closer to him so only he and I would be privy to the conversation. "He didn't give a shit, Mike."
"Who? Archer?"
I nodded. "It wasn't just that he was clueless, it was that he didn't care about his safety or that of the people around him. You and I both know that kind of selfishness gets people killed. Good people. Innocent people. A guy like that thinks he's invincible. That his money will somehow protect him. His life is about wheeling and dealing. About the next big score. He needed a wake-up call."
"And pointing a gun at him was the only way to do it?" Mike asked.
"Yes," I said without a doubt. What I didn't tell Mike was that I hadn't given Archer the harsh look at his future purely for professional reasons. Something about the fact that he took his own safety so lightly had left me feeling cold and dark. And angry.
So fucking angry.
That was the part I couldn't explain. The first thing you learned when it came to a job like mine was not to get emotionally involved. You couldn't protect the client when your moves were driven by fear. Everything about the job was about staying calm and focused. The endgame was protecting the client’s life, not their feelings.
Mike stared at me, his eyes searching mine. After a few painfully long beats, he tapped his fist lightly on the bars between us and said, "Let me see if I can call in a few favors and get you out of here. Hang tight."
"You don't need to do that. I'm fine." While I had no fear about being locked up with the dregs of society, I wasn't exactly looking forward to explaining all of this to my folks. My mother would surely cry and my father would bestow his rarely used look of disappointment on me.
Even at thirty-eight, my goal in life was to be the man my parents had raised me to be. I'd allowed my strange response to Jude Archer to fuck with that.
"Shut up, idiot," Mike said good-naturedly and then he bumped his fist against mine before leaving the holding area. It was an hour before I heard the female officer calling my name again.
"Come on, Falkov, you're out of here," she said as she opened the jail cell. One of the other guys in the cell, a tank of a man, began heading toward the door. I stepped forward to intervene because the guy was clearly going to try to force his way out, but the officer held her ground and snapped, "You want to try taking me on again, Tagloretti? We both know how that ended for you last time!"
The big guy stopped in his tracks and grumbled something, then turned around and stumbled back to where he’d been sitting. "Yeah, sleep it off," the officer called. "The missus didn't sound none too pleased to hear you’re in here again."
I heard the man mumble a curse before he collapsed back down onto one of the benches. The cop motioned to me to leave the cell. I pulled one of my business cards out of my pocket and handed it to her. "In case you’re ever looking for a change of pace," I said. Admittedly, it probably wasn't the best idea to throw out a job offer for a company that was probably going to be out of business by morning, but I couldn't help myself.
"Thanks," she said in surprise.
"Kind of late for a bail hearing, isn't it?” I asked. Although my watch had been among the belongings that had been taken from me, I knew it still had to be the middle of the night.
"No bail hearing. All the charges have been dropped." The officer motioned for me to exit the holding area. I mulled over what she'd said as I was processed out. I knew Mike had contacts in the police department but how the hell had he managed to get the charges completely dropped?
I had enough sense not to question my luck. I sent Mike a quick thank you and told him I was headed home as I exited the police station. Before I reached the doors, my phone was ringing. When I saw it was Mike, I answered.
"You're out?"
"Yeah, the charges were dropped. Wasn't that because of you?" I asked.
"No. They're dropped? Just like that?" Mike asked in surprise.
I pushed the door open to leave the precinct and relished the fresh air that hit me. "I guess," I said as I began trotting down the stairs. I came to a stop when a Rolls-Royce pulled alongside the curb in front of me.
I had no doubt about who owned the incredibly expensive car. And it didn't bode well for me or for Mike. Two dark SUVs were in front and behind the vehicle. As soon as the cars all came to a stop, men from the SUVs stepped out and began scanning the perimeter carefully.