Page 91 of Veil of Lies

He probably thought I was lying, but I wasn’t. My brain had obviously decided to block out the whole traumatic event. No doubt it would all come back to haunt me when I least needed the thrill of a horrifying flashback.

Agent Norcross ground his teeth in irritation.

“All the camera footage in the area was wiped around the time of the shooting. We have nothing on the car. Witnesses described a black SUV but no identifying details. Apart from the bullet extracted from your shoulder and those from the scene, we have no evidence. Frankly I’m inclined to think this had nothing to do with gangs and everything to do with you.”

He looked like he wanted to attach me to a polygraph machine. “I’d really like to know why someone’s targeting Daniel Cancello’s daughter.”

“I don’t know anything!” I snapped. Quinn and Harley both jumped up. Harley took hold of my hand and Quinn turned to face Agent Norcross.

“Unless you have any other questions, I think you should leave. Stella’s recovering from surgery, she doesn’t need you harassing her. I can call her doctor if you don’t agree?”

“OK, fine,” huffed the agent. He tossed a business card on the bed. “If you happen to remember anything, please call me. Anytime.” Then his gaze softened slightly. “I’m really not trying to harass you, Miss Cancello. If someone is threatening you, we can put steps in place to protect you.”

“Just like you’re looking after Dad, eh? I saw the bruises when I visited him.”

A sudden spike of emotion blindsided me and I blinked the tears away. Harley squeezed my hand tighter, and I took a deep breath.

Now was not a good time to fall apart. I couldn’t afford to show weakness in front of this agent. He was acting like he was on my side, but for all I knew, he was in the pocket of whoever Dad was afraid of.

The moral here was trust nobody, least of all shady FBI agents.

“I’ll look into what’s happening at the prison. The last thing we want is for your father to get hurt. That’s in nobody’s interest.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

Agent Norcross ignored my snark. “Call me, Estella, if you think of anything. Anything at all,” he said before leaving.

The door clicked shut behind him and I closed my eyes. The sooner I got out of here, the better.

Chapter 72

Stella

Although we’d only been away for a few days, being back at college felt strange. I’d left somewhat excited at the prospect of seeing Dad for the first time in ages and returned with a gunshot wound to the shoulder and a second to my side.

My loose hoodie covered the thick dressings and I’d been sent home with lots of pain medication, but there wasn’t much the hospital could do about the paranoia and nervous anxiety that lingered just below the surface.

My memories of the shooting had started to return. Everywhere I looked, I saw the black SUV, felt the agonizing moment the bullets hit me. The slightest loud noise set off my fight or flight response.

Frankly it was exhausting, and I really needed to talk to a therapist. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time for that shit. Or the funds to pay one. So I was out of luck.

Last night, I’d woken up screaming. Harley was probably regretting letting me share his bed. This morning all three of the guys looked as bleary-eyed as me, but nobody said anything. Harley had assured me they were all used to shit like that from Brax, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

“I should go back to my own room,” I said, sipping a double shot of espresso in the hope it would keep me awake for my world economics lecture. “I don’t have a problem keeping Cassie awake.”

Harley huffed with annoyance. “Have you forgotten that your room was broken into and college security still hasn’t figured out how that happened?”

“Well no, but—”

“You’re staying here, end of discussion.” Brax yanked open the dishwasher and pulled out a clean mug. I jumped in surprise. I’d have expected him to want rid of me. It was obvious he found it difficult seeing me every day, a stark reminder of what had happened to his father.

I was still shocked he had been there in my hospital room when I woke up. It felt like some of the tension between us had dissipated, but there was still an undercurrent of pain. He found it hard to move past the fact my father had indirectly killed his father.

I got it. I’d hate me too if it was the other way around.

“You didn’t wake me up anyway. I was already awake.” Brax made himself coffee and sat down on the sectional to watch the news. It was the usual grim stuff: conflict in some war-torn African country, the president making inane decisions, global warming…

“Why were you awake?” The words fell out of my mouth unfiltered.

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