Page 36 of The Last Shadow

“Jess told me to be careful who I trust, and then she told me Jay should be at the top of the list of people I can’t trust. I mean, what the fuck is that about?”

My brows dip and I make a mental note to have a conversation with Jess about her loyalty.

“Jess told you that?”

“Yeah, but why? What does she know that you or I don’t know?”

“Hold on, Frankie. Jess, my assistant, told you to distrust your partner you’ve known for years, and you believe her?”

“I don’t know. Everyone is keeping secrets now. I don’t know who I can trust. Jay admitted to knowing you before this whole Butcher shit started. Why would he lie to me?”

“What do you want me to say, Francesca?” I take another sip, giving myself time to come up with an answer. “Jay and I don’tknoweach other, not how you’re thinking. He was a beat cop twenty years ago when I lived at Hope House.” Give her as much of the truth as I can now so that when I give her the rest later, she’ll accept it.

“Why would he need to protect me from that?”

Good question and I don’t have an answer. “You should probably ask him. I have no clue how cops think.”

“I’m serious, Damien.”

“So am I. I have no idea what’s going on in your head right now except that a bunch of other people have gotten in your head about me. My wife, whom I love, the seasoned detective, has decided the best option is to doubt me.”

“I’m not doubting you! I’m just asking questions.”

“There’s nothing for you to doubt.”

She glares. “That’s not an answer.”

“No, it’s not because I don’t have an answer, Francesca. Why are other people trying to come between us? I have no fucking clue. I know I love you and I trust you. I just wish you’d do the same.”

“I will,” she begins. “I want to. Tell me who you were on the phone with the other night.”

That’s an easy lie. “A business associate. He wants more money for a deal we’ve already closed, and he threatened to come by and expose me if I didn’t give him more.” I keep my expression carefully neutral. Frankie is great at reading people, but so far, she hasn’t been able to read me.

“What’s his name?”

“Jacob Sandusky.” I choose a name I know should be familiar enough for her to buy my story.

“The nepo-baby from the tech world with the drug problem?”

I nod once. “Don’t forget the hooker problem.”

“Sex worker,” she shoots back. “Why are you in business with him?”

“Because he had a controlling stake in a company that provided something vital for my operations.”

She studies me closely, searching for any signs of half-truths or outright lies. “Hmm.”

“I don’t like it when you doubt me, Francesca. I’ve given you no reason.” My tone is low and commanding, and she notices.

She sits up taller in her chair, her gaze glued to my own. “You’ve kept things from me.”

I have. “Only to keep you safe.”

“Not only for that reason,” she shoots back.

“Mostly,” I reply and let a slow smile spread across my face.

Her expression matches mine.

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