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“Kid, I care about you like a father does a son. You’re messing with something very fucking dangerous right now. If Luca Bernardi is indeed tied to Harry right now, we need to watch our backs, or else this won’t end well for anyone.”
My eyes snap to his at the mention of Luca. “How did you know?”
“Once you left the bar, I was outside. It didn’t take long for Harry and Luca to leave. I followed them for a while but eventually lost them in city traffic.” I nod slowly as he continues, “I checked Harry’s whereabouts during the time of Michael's murder, and he was in Las Vegas, but I can’t find anything on Luca.”
“And we won’t, he’s too fucking clever.” The venom spilling through my tone, knowing that Michael Harper's murder may never get solved, ending up propped on a shelf and branded a cold case until the day they put me in the fucking ground.
“I called Michael’s lawyer; he confirmed the date for the funeral. If we go, maybe we can arrest Luca and Harry for something and bring them in.” The comment almost seems hopeful.
“Fucking seriously?” I Scoff, “As soon as we bring him in, that rat attorney will scurry in and have any charge we have dropped. He’ll be walking out of here by happy hour.”
“Then what do you suggest, Grey?” He eyes me curiously, but I avert my eyes, knowing there’s fuck all that can be done when you’re dealing with corrupt scum like Harry and Luca.
“We’ll attend the funeral. Have a couple of squad cars nearby, too, in case either of them tries anything. He’s following Summer. There’s no way him ending up in that bar was a coincidence so we must assume he’s got more people on his payroll, feeding him information.”
Strode nods before leaving the room, his disappointment in my behavior all too obvious. I can’t blame him; my actions could have cost me the case and potentially my job. Swinging the door open and taking a seat back at my desk, it doesn’t take long before the tapping of heels pulls my attention to the main door of the office.
Immediately averting my eyes back to the paperwork in front of me, I avoid her usual gentle gaze. Yet this time, I can feel the burning holes boring into the side of my head, but I don’t look up. I don’t need to see the hurt look on her face to make me feel more of a fucking bastard than I already do. Strode approaches with concern, clearly alarmed by the wild look in her eyes after spotting me.
“He came to the apartment last night.” I hear her squeak out, pulling my attention to the hushed conversation.
“Grey! Interview room…now!”
My jaw ticks, and my eyes narrow at Strode’s order, but I comply. Pushing my chair out, I follow as he leads Summer into the interview room where we first met. Taking a seat opposite her, her eyes no longer steal glances my way. The angelic sadness I once saw is now replaced with a steel-like determination.
“What happened, Summer?” Strode leans in, his tone calm and comforting.
Taking a deep breath, she finally speaks, moving her eyes from the table to Strode. “Harry came to my apartment last night; I don’t know how he got in, but he followed me. No one knew where I was apart from my father’s attorney, James Kressler, and Detective Grey.”
Her eyes refuse to look my way, but I immediately feel the side eye from Strode. Whilst he thinks I could have led Harry to the apartment, I know I fucking didn’t. He’s got eyes everywhere and there’s little people won’t do it in this city to make a quick buck.
“You do realise, Summer, if he’s threatened you in any way, I need to bring him in for questioning.”
She nods a couple of times, leaning slightly closer toward Strode. “He threatened…Bh…Detective Grey, too.”
As Strode leans back in his chair, running his hand across his face. I keep my eyes focused on the table in front as my blood begins to simmer under the surface. The rage beginning to ring in my ears as the severity of what I’ve caused hits like a falling tonne of bricks.
“I wasn’t entirely honest with you both.” Summer looks away, sighing heavily she runs a shaky hand through her hair.
“What weren’t you honest about?” I eye her curiously, hoping she’ll finally tell us what Harry did. Even though we already know the type of person he is.
“Harry would hit me a lot.” She stands from her chair and slightly lifts her jumper, exposing the fading bruises on her lower ribs. Eventually, she sits back down, and I hear Strode let out a heavy sigh, slightly rubbing his brow.
“Initially, he wasn’t abusive, but once he got comfortable in the relationship, then beating me was almost fair game. I lied because I didn’t want him to know where I was. We had a huge fight before I left Vegas, and I hit him hard with a bottle to get away. He was knocked out, so I don’t know If he even remembers the fight. I just didn’t want to be hit again. I just wanted to help my dad.”
The tears fall from her eyes. She leans forward onto the desk. Her head rests in her hands as she sobs through her pain. Both Strode and I look between each other and know she was only trying to protect herself. Eventually, she looks up and wipes her eyes, sniffing hard, her shoulders sag as she continues.
“The man from the alley said that Harry paid him to attack me; he had a knife, and apparently, he could do whatever he wanted to me. Harry left it up to him.” Summer shudders, gently wiping the corner of her mouth. “I don’t know what happened to him, though. I just remember how blurry my vision was.”
Once the conversation ends, we leave the room, and I watch Strode leave, taking Summer back to the apartment for now. The want and need to feel close to her clouded by the threat that now looms over both of us. Of course, he threatened me. Cowards like him always do when there’s no one round to stand up to him, but he’ll learn I don’t back down.
Summer ?
Stepping into the apartment, I turn back as Detective Strode lingers in the doorway. The detective I once assumed to be an arrogant asshole is now the one, I feel I can trust.
How fucking wrong was I?
Allowing my mind to swallow me in thoughts of Bhodi, Detective Strode takes a step forward before speaking.
