Page 23 of Break

“Are you all still friends with him? Is that why you called them?” she asks Coop, then looks to Trina, wanting an answer from both of them.

Okay, now I’m confused.I catch Max’s attention and he simply raises a brow like he’s just as lost as I am.

“Please, Mi-” Trina begins again, but the woman is not having it.

“Stop trying to placate me!” she cries out.

Jesus Christ!She’s about to fall headfirst into a panic attack, and I’m not equipped with how to handle it. I step back until I find myself pressed up against the wall on the opposite side of the room from her. My arms hang at my sides, and I slide down into a squat so I’m lower than her. It’s the only thing I can do to show her I’m not a threat.

“Okay, we all need to take a minute to calm down. There are no ulterior motives; we’re only here to help where we can.” Coop tries to take control of the unraveling this woman standing in front of him is experiencing as the rest of us just stand back as helpless spectators.

She’s not having it, though. Looking briefly at me, then back at Max, she asks, “What did he do, call you and ask you to come deal with me? Give you his side of things so you can reassure me he didn’t mean it and he was just having a bad night?”

“Honey,” Max says, his jaw clenching when he sees how she visibly recoils to the endearment. “I haven’t talked to anyone except Jenny when she called me this morning to ask for our assistance. I don’t even know who your husband is.”

I expect her to bite back at him, but her body completely deflates and every emotion that has been flickering through eyes; fear, betrayal, suspicion, anger, pain. They’re all gone.

Just blank. She’s shutting down right in front of us and my stomach twists because I don’t like the way it makes my conscience feel. We shouldn’t have come in here. We’ve only caused this woman more pain. Whether or not it’s intentional, it’s still on us.

“I will not play this game anymore. I c…can’ttake it anymore. Not from him…” she whispers the ending. “And not from you.” She directs that to Max and then includes me with another quick glance in my direction.

A fucking vise grips my throat and I know we’re missing something. Guilt over something unknown wiggles its way into my brain, but I can’t connect it with all the facts I’ve been given.

Who is this woman, and why do I feel like I should already know?

A name starts to swim into my memory when I watch her grab a piece of paper with her free hand and gently use the injured one to tear it in half, then creasing it once, twice, three times.

Heavy knocking on the door loosens the reins on the answer I almost had, and it slips away from me. Coop sighs before walking over to stick his head out the door.

Vincent’s urgent voice pulls Max to the door to stand next to him, but I’m only watching from my peripheral. I can’t take my eyes off the woman as she hangs her head down. Her hair cascades over her shoulders to hide her face as she works the paper into an intricate array of folds and angles and sharp edges.

“Ethan,” Max clips out. He gives me a head nod to follow him outside.

One last glance at the table, I blow out a frustrated breath and walk into the empty hallway. Vincent is practically bouncing on his feet, but not in excitement. He looks fucking wrecked.

“What the hell is going on?” Max hisses, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at our ex-football-God-turned-cop friend.

Coop is exasperated when he adds, “I’d like to know the same thing. Do you all know that woman in there?”

“No,” Max answers at the same time I do.

“Nope.”

Vincent shakes his head. “Yes, you fucking do.”

My head jerks back, and Max drops his arms. “What are you talking about? I’ve never met that woman before in my life. Well, unless you count yesterday outside the station.”

Narrowing his eyes at Max, he asks his question through gritted teeth. “Do you know where I’ve been this morning?”

“Yeah, you went to pick up her piece of shit abusive husband.”

“That’s right. So, guess where I picked him up at?” he asks. He’s being evasive, and it’s pissing me off.

Hiding no irritation from my voice, I snap. “Don’t play fucking games. Just tell us who that is and what the fuck you know.”

Vincent stands up straighter. I can tell that he hasn’t been playing any games with us. Not one. He’s about to slam us with some news that I suspect is going to turn our world upside down.

“I just fucking arrested Danny Reed. That woman in there?” He points to the door behind me. “That’s Mina Bardot, his fuckingwife.”

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