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“Damn right it made me angry.” I uncross my arms and lean forward, matching her posture. “But not angry enough to kill the bastard. I prefer my revenge more personal. More educational.”
Her eyebrows lift slightly. “Educational?”
Fuck. I shouldn’t have said that. But I’m too wired to filter my words. “He needed to learn some respect. That’s all.”
“And Penelope? Did she need to learn some respect too?”
My hands ball into fists under the table. “Penelope was a parasite.”
She makes another note. “And she was the one who leaked that video, wasn’t she?”
Jaw ticking, I narrow my eyes. That video won’t fucking die. “Yeah.”
“I bet you were angry that she did that.”
“I wasn’t happy.”
“Angry enough to kill her?”
“Jesus Christ, no. Like I said, I didn’t fucking kill either of them. Am I sad? Not really.” I pause, scowling. “Do you even have any evidence against us?”
Trina sets her pen down and looks at me for a long moment. “I think we’re done here for now.”
“Good.” I push back from the table. “Can I leave?”
“Not yet.”
The words hit me like a slap. “What do you mean, not yet?”
“I mean I need to verify some details with your brothers first.” She stands and closes her folder. “You’re not under arrest, but I need you to stay put for a little while longer.”
My pulse throbs in the vein on my forehead. “I want a lawyer.”
“That’s your right.” She moves toward the door. “I’ll get you a phone.”
The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving me alone with that goddamn ticking clock again. I drop my head into my hands and try to think. Try to figure out what the hell is happening and how to prove we’re innocent.
Chapter Thirty-Four
BRAX
Twenty minutes and thirty-eight seconds. I’ve been staring at this institutional clock for twenty minutes and thirty-eight seconds, watching the red hand tick past each number like it’s mocking me. The fluorescent lights hum overhead, the cacophony of white noise is overwhelming. That’s probably the intent. Make people uncomfortable as possible to get them on edge.
My leg bounces under the metal table. Nervous energy is eating me alive from the inside out. Every muscle in my body wants to move, to pace, to punch something. Instead, I’m trapped in this chair that’s bolted to the floor, staring at beige walls and trying to block the image of a closing jail cell out of my mind.
Where the hell are my brothers?
The door handle turns with a soft click, and Trina walks in carrying coffee and a file folder. Her expression is neutral, professional, but there’s a hard edge to her too. She’s a seasoned officer. Probably seen things I can’t even begin to imagine.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Brax.” She settles into the chair across from me, placing her folder and coffee on the table. “I know this is frustrating.”
I lean back, linking my hands in my lap to keep from taking a defensive posture. Innocent people aren’t defensive, and we are innocent, but I can’t help feeling like they’ve already made up their mind. “Frustrating doesn’t begin to cover it.”
“I understand.” Her voice carries genuine empathy, which somehow makes this worse. I could handle an aggressive cop. This feels like manipulation wrapped in kindness. “I need to ask you a few questions, and then hopefully we can get this sorted out.”
“Ask away.” The sooner we get started, the sooner we can all leave.
She tugs a pad from her uniform and flips it open, setting it on the table next to the folder. Her fingers drum against the table twice before she looks at me, eyebrows pinched together. “How would you describe your relationship with your twin brother?”
