Page 41 of Trapped Truth

“Yeah, right.” I cut him another sharp glower. “I’m already on your good list, dickhead. Don’t dangle that in front of me.”

Hudson smiles. “Busted.”

“Pull him out. I’ll see what I can do.”

Hudson nods, calling for Doctor Richards through the intercom. Rolling my shoulders back and forth, I watch as Richards abandons his futile attempts to crack the prisoner—sighing, gathering his notepad and leaving the room, all without stirring a visible reaction from Gunnar.

“Any luck?” Hudson asks in greeting when Richards joins us.

Doctor Richards rubs underneath his spectacles. “It isn’t often I get frustrated after almost five decades in this field, but he’s a tough nut to crack. I’m not sure if he’s even hearing me.”

“There’s been no response at all?” I ask him.

“None, not even a nod.” He spares me a brief, clinical look. “Apologies, Ember. I didn’t mean to run so late to our scheduled session. Are you well?”

“Bearing up, doc. I’m here to have a crack with your newest patient.”

“You’re going in there?”

“I’ve approved it,” Hudson answers for me, his tone brooking no argument. “Ember was the last person Gunnar spoke to during the raid. Until Axel is recovered and willing to engage, she’s our best bet.”

“That seems like a risky endeavour.”

“As much as I respect your professional opinion, this isn’t the time for caution. We have to utilise every resource at our expense to regain control of this case.”

Doctor Richards disregards Hudson and turns to face me, clutching his notes close. The old man looks wearier than usual. His floral shirt is a pale shade of blue today with no flowers. By his wacky standards, that’s positively funeral attire.

“I trust you to know your own limitations,” he says assuredly. “But after your recent operations, I’d advise caution. If Gunnar decides to speak, he may use the events of the raid to his advantage.”

“I’ll be fine, doc. He can’t hurt me.”

“But you’re more than capable of hurting yourself, my dear. Don’t let him get in your head.”

Despite being concerned for my welfare, he’s actually trusting me to give this a shot. The show of faith is strangely endearing.

“I can handle Gunnar, but thank you,” I assure him. “After what we survived, I’m more tempted to put him out of his misery than let him manipulate me.”

“Perhaps that’s the point,” Richards replies ominously. “Remain calm.”

Jaw locked, I nod and wait to be buzzed into the cell. Adrenaline frissons through my extremities at the impending reunion with the man who tried to take Axel from me.

Regardless of his change of heart, we almost lost a member of our family because of Gunnar Slaughter. I don’t care what his reasoning was. All he can do now to redeem himself is give us the advantage we need to finish this fight for good.

My spiking adrenaline cools into deadly ice shards that spread in all directions when I enter the room. Whiskey-warm eyes lock onto me, performing a slow, cataloguing search from head to toe without offering any greeting.

Seething inside, I take Richards’s vacated seat. No notes. No weapons. I don’t need any gimmicks to break his resolve. I’ve got enough angry fuel in the tank to do that single-handedly.

“Hello, Gunnar.”

His empty gaze bores into me. I can’t quite tell if it’s a challenge or a plea for me to leave.

“I thought you’d like to know that your twin brother is alive.” I speak without emotion. “The doctor in Estonia pulled a bullet out of him. Clean shot, but he almost died from blood loss.”

There’s a slight twitch in his temple, a vein swelling under his skin.

“Axel told us everything, you know. The whole messy truth. I think it was a relief after the lies his own mother made him tell to keep you safe. Yet in the end, you still tried to kill him for it.”

Another flicker, this time from his stubbled Adam’s apple.