Page 195 of Dark Romeo

“Julu…” My father slipped a hand on my shoulder.

I flinched from his touch. “Don’t call me that.”

He sighed, dropping his arm to his side. “You’ll get over him, love. You will.” He walked back among the officers who were processing the scene.

My heart curled up into a withered pile of ash. I’d never get over Roman. Never.

* * *

I had just finished giving my statement inside the station. They’d sent me some jerk-off kid who still had his training wheels on to question me. I had seen a cop shoot Roman. No one would listen to me. I needed proof. I needed to know who shot him. Then I could get a confession.

“Pierce,” I called to the young officer standing out back of the police station sneaking a quick cigarette.

He flinched, coughing out a cloud of smoke. “Hey, Capulet.” He waved the smoke aside as I strode up to him.

“I know you were at the Tyrell takedown earlier today.”

He blinked slowly at me. “Right. Yeah, a few of us were there.”

“Were you stationed on the north or the south of the barn?”

I saw him pause. “Aren’t you off duty at the moment?”

“Were you on the north or south?” I repeated.

“Why does it matter?” He stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette and turned to go back inside.

I grabbed his arm. “Just answer the question, Pierce. Please.”

He glanced over my shoulder to the doorway leading into the station. “I was…on the south.”

He would have been standing on the same side as the shooter. “Who was stationed on the western-most window on that side?”

He shuffled his feet, his eyes darting about him. “Why are you asking all these questions?”

“Who stood at that window? Tell me now or I’ll go to my father.”

Pierce scoffed. “He’d be the last person to tell you who stood there.”

I froze, my blood turning to sharp icicles in my veins. I grabbed Pierce’s shirtfront, not caring that I was assaulting a police officer right outside the police station. “Was it you? Was it you who stood at the that window?”

“No.”

“Then who, dammit?” I leaned in. “Who? If you’ve ever thought of me as a friend…”

He shushed me. “Jules, keep it down.”

“Tell me, Pierce, tell?—”

“Okay,” he relented, “but this never came from me.”

Triumph flooded through my veins. “I promise.”

Pierce glanced around before locking eyes with me. “Your father took that position.”

My fingers sprang open. I stumbled back. Dread rattled down my bones. Betrayal shot like a bitter poison through my veins, withering my insides.

“Jules…are you okay?” Pierce’s voice sounded so far away.

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