Page 53 of Brazen Criminals

He’s a protector, not a killer. He just doesn’t know how to find his way out of the haze that takes over.

Does Trips belong in jail?

The part of me that wants to be in the FBI screams he does. He broke the law. Justice has not been served.

But this other voice, an unfamiliar voice, quiet but sincere, asks me what Trips going to jail would fix. The guy would still be hurt. Trips can’t fix that. Trips’ life would be over. And who would be there to jump in the next time a boyfriend smacked his girlfriend around? No one. How would that be justice?

“How do you know about his leg? His migraines?” I ask.

“RJ hacked his medical records.” Trips unfolds his hands and pushes them through his hair. “I paid his medical bills anonymously through the portal. I’m pretty sure everyone decided it was a computer glitch, but the money was real, so no one worried about it.”

Walker shifts next to me. “We keep an eye on the guy, though. Both to make sure he’s okay and—”

Trips picks up from Walker. “And to make sure any women in his life are safe.”

And that, the unfamiliar voice whispers, is real justice.

I feel myself shutting down, too much to process all at once, but I’m stubborn. I made a list in my head before this meeting, and I deserve the answers, so I force myself to keep moving forward.

Find out Trips’ real name—check

Find out why cops were weird—check

Fix Bryce situation

Debate the merits of a restraining order

Here we go.

I sigh, forcing out more words, more questions, seeking more answers that will probably toss me on my ass. “Okay. Thanks for telling me the truth,” I say, and four sets of eyes lock onto me.

This must not be what they were expecting. But I’ll take the time I need to process later. Now is for questions. “What do we do about Bryce? I agree he’s gone too far, and I will admit that I don’t want to see him ever again. He’s scaring me. But the thing is, I only want to be safe. I’m not sure I’m up for ruining his life, despite what I said last night, RJ. I just don’t know if I can.”

RJ leans forward, eyes locking with mine. “He hurt you, Clara.”

I nod. “He did. But my goal is safety, not revenge.”

RJ’s nostrils flare, and both Jansen and Walker tense beside me on the couch. Jansen puts a hand on my knee, and I turn toward him.

“Have you ever had a stalker before, Clara?” he asks.

I shake my head.

Jansen rubs circles on my kneecap while he gathers his thoughts. “My sister did once. We did everything we were supposed to: we filed a restraining order, she stopped all contact, deleted every email and text, ignored every call. He’d stand in front of the house, watching, and we’d call the cops. They’d come and get him to leave. Evie didn’t get to go anywhere alone. We drove to school together; we came home together. If a friend wanted to hang out, they had to come pick her up. One night, her best friend was having some meltdown about a test and her parents and expectations, so Evie went to help her friend.”

Jansen chews on his lips, like he doesn’t want the words to escape his mouth. “He followed her, and when she parked at her friend’s house and got out, he grabbed her, threw her against her car, said terrible things to her. I don’t know what all happened, she wouldn’t tell me, but she screamed loud enough for her friend’s mom to come out and scare the guy away. Evie was a mess.”

Jansen pulls his hair into a ponytail, taking a moment to settle out of his memory. “The cops picked him up, but he was only in jail for a few months. And every day Evie would get a letter in the mail from the guy. I read one of them, and they were all kinds of fucked up. It only stopped when Evie went to college. She couldn’t tell anyone where she was accepted, couldn’t let anyone post anything on their socials about it. She’s been safe, but she had to disappear. And the letters still show up at our mom’s house once or twice a year.”

Jansen grabs my good hand and waits until he has my attention. “The thing is, Clara, even now, Evie isn’t safe. If I’d been able to do then what I can do now, maybe I could have helped her. Maybe she wouldn’t have had to have her whole senior year ruined. Maybe I could have kept her safe. I couldn’t then, but I can now, for you.” He squeezes my fingers, and my heart squeezes with it. “Let us help you, Clara. The only way to stop a guy like this is to remove him from the game. Because when it comes down to it, one of you has to disappear, and I’d much rather it be Bryce than you.”

A few tears leak out, and I pull my hand from Jansen’s, angry at myself for crying again. I rub them from my face as Walker gives me a half hug from the other side. Jansen told me exactly what I was afraid to hear. It was Bryce, or it was me. And for once, there was no way in hell I was putting Bryce first. “Okay.” I swallow back more tears. “Okay, so we ruin Bryce. How?”

Walker shifts so he’s leaning back into the corner of the couch. “This part you have to help us with, because we don’t know the guy, and you do. Let’s start at the bottom and work our way out of it toward a plan. What does Bryce really want?”

Trips scoffs. “He fucking wants Clara back, and that’s not fucking happening.”

As much as I wish I were that high on Bryce’s list of priorities, I know I’m not even close to the top. “The thing he wants the most is to be a doctor.”

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