Don't Let Go (Dark Nights #2)

Hennessey raised his eyebrows, appearing both surprised and unafraid. It was a great act. He looked like an innocent man. “I wasn’t aware it was dirty,” Hennessey said lightly. “Mind filling me in with this information?”


If I hadn’t already known the truth, I would have been outraged on his behalf. I’d have believed this lie.

“Last night, a phone call was placed to a disposable cell phone with known ties to Carlos.” Brody studied him for a response.

He went unnaturally still. I could feel him remembering that moment in the hotel room, when the phone had rung. Leave it. Had he even checked it this morning? Or had he been too caught up in me? If I had distracted him, put him off guard, then this was my fault. Either way it was my fault, because only through my actions did they know where he’d been staying. It’s not like agents were investigated on a daily basis. Only if something went wrong…or if the agent already knew the address and made the connection. Damn Lance and his competence. Damn myself for using him.

Hennessey remained stubbornly silent, waiting for the other man to state the accusation plainly.

Brody cleared his throat. “In fact…this is quite unfortunate…but we have information that you are staying in the same vicinity where that call went. Within a half-mile radius.”

“I’m staying in a hotel.” His voice was dry. “There are quite a few people living within a half-mile of me.”

“That may be so, but the odds of them having ties to this case are low. You do. And the information you have, that you’ve had access to for some time. If you were to supply that to Carlos, it would be invaluable. I think we can all agree on that.”

“That’s hardly evidence of anything,” Hennessey said, but I could feel him stalling, thinking. Looking for a way out, but there was none. I’d had a few minutes longer, and I’d already seen that. No escape.

“Not proof,” Brody said, but it didn’t feel like a concession. Instead, he leaned forward, a shark sensing blood in the water. “But if we find the phone on your person. Or in your hotel room. That’s compelling. And if we dig a little farther…who knows what we’ll find?”

If they dug deep enough, they’d find a criminal mastermind had been working under their noses all this time. Siphoning off information, misdirecting them. Maybe even using them against his competitors. It would be humiliating for the Bureau, and God, they would come down so hard. There’d be no coming back from that. Nothing but the death penalty would do.

So if I protected Hennessey, if I saved him somehow, it would be saving his life. I could justify anything. I used to tell myself lies. No one has ever hurt me. You can be normal. Just pretend. But Carlos had stripped away all that scar tissue, torn it off my body, leaving me bleeding and bared. Then Hennessey had put me back together, helped me heal. Two sides of the same man. And me in the middle.

“I brought the phone,” I blurted out.

Both men looked at me with surprise.

“Carlos mailed it to me. I think he wanted me to call him.” I tried to shrug. “I guess he thought he’d fucked with my mind enough where I’d be his informant.”

“Carlos gave you the phone,” Brody said flatly, his disbelief clear.

And well he shouldn’t believe me, since I was making it up. Lying for Carlos. Protecting Hennessey.

Deep breath. I had started this lie to save Hennessey. Now I had to follow it through. “Or maybe he just liked me. Maybe he wanted to fuck me again.”

Neither man knew what to do with that. The poor abused girl, they were thinking. They were right—and wrong at the same time. No wonder they were confused. I was confused.

“So if you want to arrest me for that,” I said. “Go ahead and do it. What do I care anymore?”

But they didn’t arrest me. They couldn’t, when I hadn’t done anything wrong. Not really. I was the girl who’d been broken, the one being stalked by a maniac. And I’d taken the phone to my partner for help. There was no way they could authorize a search warrant or arrest. Not for me. And not for Hennessey. I’d protected him. And the way he stared at me, with surprise, with fierce intensity, he knew. He knew what I’d done and why I’d done it. He knew I’d kept him safe.

This was the end of the story as I knew it. I’d lived this once before. I knew the proper ending. The bad guy goes to jail, and the good girl lives alone, in fear. In shame. But I’d gone off script this time. I’d protected him instead.

What do you remember?

Nothing.

The past couldn’t hold me any longer, and I had no idea what would happen next.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN