Page 70 of Her Protector Daddies

“Has there been any news about the gun?” I asked, switching gears before my focus on Selena spiraled down to the dull, squashed-down grief in my chest. “Has anyone found it?”

“Please,” Jay scoffed. “Andrés is too smart for that. If he did shoot her, the gun will be long gone by now. Most likely melted down into nothing.”

His tone carried the pain of experience. Given how the gun that killed his partner was never found, I couldn’t blame him.

“So,” I said quietly. “We need Selena’s statement.”

“Yes,” Aubrey replied. “Right now, that’s the only thing that will put him away for good.”

Aubrey’s attention drifted slightly to the red and white magnet cubes in her hands, tossing them back and forth as her brow pinched together into a permanent worry line.

Throughout the entire discussion, Bailey didn’t say a word.

“What about Trask?”

My question finally made Bailey’s eyes shift to me.

“Why was he at the Gala?” I asked, my mind latching onto the one thread I had that I could pull. “You promised me he wouldn’t be there.”

“He shouldn’t have been,” Aubrey replied, the magnets pausing in her palm. “I can assure you, I assigned him to desk duty. He definitely wasn’t ordered there by me, but I haven’t been able to follow that trail yet.”

A sudden, sharp pulse of anger warmed my hands.

How could she not have looked into this yet? She knew my suspicions, and I thought she shared them yet here she was too swamped in other things to focus where she was needed.

“Right. Excuse me.”

“Where are you going?” Jay asked, his eyes filled with questions he couldn’t ask in front of the Captain as I stood.

“Bathroom.”

It wasn’t a lie, technically. The locker rooms did have bathrooms after all, but given the time of day and impending shift change, it was the one place I knew I would run into Trask if I waited long enough. That fucker just kept turning up where he wasn’t wanted and I was tired of not being able to ask the right questions.

They could fire me for all I cared.

The sour mix of sweat and antiperspirant hit my nose as I entered, but I barely noticed it. I passed two rows of lockers before I spotted Trask in a state of undress, his attention down on his belt as he worked to fit it around his waist.

He looked up when he heard my footsteps and a half-smile curled across his thin lips.

“Back in the Detective get up, huh? I always knew someone wouldn’t use a golden ticket to—ahn!”

His words died under the impact of my fist as I punched him hard in the face. Trask stumbled backward and his legs caught on the small wooden bench between the lockers. I didn’t give him a chance to correct himself. I was on him in a flash, punching him repeatedly in the face and for a second, it was pure enjoyment.

I was angry, furious that this rat had slipped past us for so long. I was hurt that the woman I had grown to love was in the hospital and could die before I ever saw her again. I was angry for my friends who were forced to carry more death on their shoulders thanks to that fucker Andrés and right now, Trask was the only person I could get my hands on.

Blood sprayed and flesh split under my knuckles as I punched him repeatedly. We ended up grappling on the ground, but Trask’s belt did him a disservice and tangled his legs, helping me maintain the upper hand. Another punch then I grabbed him by the front of his vest and half hauled him upward.

“Why did you do it, huh?” I barked in his face as he gasped wetly through the blood streaming down his face. “Why did you request me to be your partner? Why the fuck were you even at the Gala when I know you were ordered to stay away!” I punched him again and his head snapped back. “Why are you always around when things go south, huh? You’re a fucking snake, Trask!”

He tried to fight back, landing a punch to my cheekbone and another to my ribs but I was stronger. Three more punches and he was completely floored, flat on the ground and panting heavily. When I advanced to continue beating his pathetic ass into the ground, he held up one shaking hand.

“Wait!” he gasped through a waterfall of blood.

I hesitated, and he spat a mouthful of crimson onto the floor tiles. There might even have been a tooth.

“Wait,” he gasped again.

“You better tell me something I wanna hear or you’re gonna become a cautionary tale, Trask.”

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