Page 30 of Torment

8

Mason

“Come on, little guy.”

I coaxed Buddy into a large plastic container as I held it under the water in his enormous tank. Jolie had gone all out over the years to ensure the angelfish had the best of everything—filters, heat lamps, plants, shells, even a faux sunken ship for him to dart in and out of.

He finally swam into the container, and I scooped it up out of the water and sealed the lid. There were a few pinprick sized holes on it to keep air flowing in and out of the water inside it.

A faint smile turned up my lips as I watched Buddy dart around, investigating the new surroundings.

I’d been coming here to feed the little fish every day for the last few weeks—ever since I took Jolie—but I’d decided after my week here in the city that I may as well just take it out to the lake house instead of going back and forth every day.

I’d been doing so in the first place due to work matters. Right when I took Jolie, a shit-ton of issues that required my attention and expertise suddenly arose out of the blue at the office. Just my fucking luck. I had to deal with it all right here in the city, so I couldn’t spend much time out at the house in St. James Parish as I’d originally hoped to do. Especially over the last week, when I’d been so busy that I didn’t have time to drive back and forth between the city and the lake house at all, given that it was an hour-long journey each way.

Luckily, the issues had been sorted and things had finally died down on the work front. Now I was free and officially back on leave, and I intended on staying out at the lake house so I could spend more time with Jolie. Because of that, it made sense for me to simply take the fish there and keep him in the house.

It wasn’t like I could just let the little creature die here, alone and hungry in this little apartment. It did nothing wrong, and it shouldn’t have to pay for Jolie’s sins. Especially as it was the same pet fish I bought her years ago.

Even after all the shit she’d done to me, I felt the tiniest pang of respect for her, simply for the fact she’d kept it alive for so long. I’d always assumed she left it behind when New Eden was raided by the FBI, but once I started watching her over seven years afterwards, I saw that she’d actually kept Buddy all these years. That was a surprise. It couldn’t have been easy to keep something alive during that period, given all the upheaval in her life and all the shit that followed her. Even something as small as a fish. But she obviously wanted it, and she fought for it.

Just like she fought for everything.

Recently, I’d been rethinking our first few days together, and I had to admit I was somewhat proud of how she’d turned out, in regard to all the fighting. As annoying as her tenacity was at times, it made me wonder if she’d wound up like that because of my influence all those years ago. After all, when I first arrived at New Eden, she was a cowering little mess, afraid of her own shadow.

Or maybe that was an act all along, just like everything else.

My smile faded. I picked up the fish container and headed out of Jolie’s apartment, striding toward the stairs.

“Excuse me, sir.”

I turned to see a tall woman with thick black hair tucked into a bun. She’d just emerged from the apartment across the hall.

She wasn’t in any sort of uniform, but I knew instantly that she was a cop. She was too well-dressed to be an average civilian, but not well-dressed enough to be a lawyer or some other high-ranking professional. Her guarded stance told the same story.

Shit.

My bad luck had struck again. Then again, I should’ve expected this at some point. It hadn’t exactly been wise for me to continually return to Jolie’s place. I should’ve just taken Buddy at the very start. Fucking idiot.

I cocked my head to the side, pasting on a genial expression as I regarded the stern-looking cop. “Yes?”

“Did I just see you come out of 3B?” she asked.

“Yes, you did. Are you a neighbor?” I replied, feigning ignorance.

She showed me her badge. “I’m Detective Shona Beck. I’ve just been following up with Jo Sinclair’s neighbors regarding some statements I took from them a couple of weeks ago. May I ask what you were doing in her apartment?”

My brows dipped in a confused frown, as if I couldn’t imagine why she was asking such a question. “I was asked to feed her fish while she’s gone. I have to go away for a couple of weeks myself, so I’m taking it with me for now. Someone needs to care for it, and I have a spare aquarium at my place.”

Beck’s dark brown eyes lingered on my scars. “Who asked you to feed the fish? Ms. Sinclair?”

I shook my head. “No. I have a house across the street—the pink townhouse—and I received a note in my mailbox a few weeks ago. There was no name attached, but I think it was one of her neighbors. The note said she’d asked them to feed the fish while she went away for a while, but they weren’t feeling up to it, so they asked if I could do it instead.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “So that’s what I’ve been doing.”

Beck’s eyes narrowed slightly. “And you have a key to Ms. Sinclair’s apartment, do you?”

“Yes.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the spare key I’d stolen from Jolie’s apartment months ago. “She gave it to me a while ago.”

“Can I ask your name?”

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