Page 95 of Shadow Dance

“I woke up to get water and saw a dead body in the living room.” My heart skips a beat. “Mac. I—I went back to the room and then Jaime came to get me.” I look him in the eye. “You know Jaime, right? The man I was with when the cops showed up?”

He hums noncommittally.

I don’t know what that means, so I continue. “He was going to try and get me out of there, but Callum wouldn’t let us go. He kept saying it wasn’t safe, that there were more gunmen outside, but he was so high that he was acting crazy. He got angry at us and then …” A vivid image of Callum punching me plays in my brain, along with the memory of how badly it hurt. I look away, my stomach in knots. How do I move past this? Will I ever get used to it?

“We’ve reviewed the home’s security camera footage, so we have an idea of what went down,” he says after a moment. “I’d just like to hear it from your point of view.”

“He was going to kill Jaime.” I bite my lip, forcing back another wave of tears. “He would’ve killed me. It was self-defense.”

The detective nods, scanning the disaster that is my face. “Was there a history of physical abuse?”

“He would grab me sometimes, leave bruises.” I shrug, trying to push away the inexplicable shame rising inside. I can’t bring myself to mention Callum forcing himself on me. It’s hard for me to even call it what it was. Rape. “He hit me on Thanksgiving. Gave me a black eye.”

He jots something down.

“Is Jaime okay?” I ask. “Did he survive?”

“I don’t have any information on him at this time,” he says, still writing.

“Do you even know who he is?”

“Jaime Reyes? He’s a member of your boyfriend’s crew,” Scott says, finally meeting my gaze with neutral eyes. “He’s also been affiliated with another crime family, but I’m not at liberty to discuss it as it’s an ongoing case.”

I stare at him, wondering if he knows more than he’s letting on. Either he’s lying to me to preserve Cruz’s “Jaime” alias, or he’s not looped into the investigation because he’s local homicide and not a Fed.

“Will I be able to go home?” I ask. “To Boston?”

“It depends on whether or not charges are filed?—”

“But it was self-defense,” I cry. “What was I supposed to do, let Callum murder me?”

“No,” he says quietly. “But we have to investigate when someone is killed regardless of the circumstances. Like I said, we’ve reviewed thetapes and they do seem to support your version of events. That’s a good thing. Just sit tight for now.”

“I’m supposed to be released today. I want to go home,” I say peevishly. I’m just so over this bullshit. Whythe fuckdidn’t I leave before all of this went down? For the thousandth time,why?

“I understand.” Detective Scott rises, pushing his chair back. He leaves a business card on the table and clears his throat. “We will be in touch. For now, please stay in the area until we can determine how this will be approached.”

“Wait. Can you please find out about Jaime?” I ask. “He’s a good guy, and I’d really like to know how he’s doing.”

He nods, but it’s obvious he’s already moved on. “I’ll see what I can do. Have a good day.”

Chapter 30

Cruz

What Maeve probably doesn’t know is that there are two police officers outside of her hospital room at all times. Because while I’m rumored dead, the news has done a good job of letting the whole fucking world know that she survived.

Thankfully, the public doesn’t know the details of what went down that night. If they did, they’d know that she was the one who pulled the trigger on Cal, and while most people would sympathize with a woman defending herself from an abusive boyfriend, Cal’s family might not see it that way.

Dario is being held without bail at the moment, as are the men closest to him. The same is true for Cedro and Leo Oliveras and their inner circle. When things went sideways at Cal’s, Lewis and the team had to move fast, executing their search warrants on both families to make sure no one ran or went underground. The raids took place just hours after the shootout in the Berkeley Hills. That might sound reassuring to some, that “the bad guys” are behind bars, but these syndicates run deep. They have familial ties all over Mexico and the US, and they’re wealthy. If they wanted to put someone down, they could. If a disgruntled relative wanted to exact revenge … they could.

And now the Feretti family is in the mix, too. Turns out Rocky and his cousin Enzo were behind the home invasion, wanting to get back atCal for the way things went down when their little meeting at the house turned sour. Ghost Feretti apparently had no knowledge of any of this beef, but the family was already under investigation for something else, so now they’re all in hot water.

Such a fucking mess.

The nature of my recently finished assignment, as well as my extensive injuries, guarantee that even if I wanted to return to the field—I don’t—I’m expected to retire. Years of savings plus a fat severance means I’ll be all right regardless of what I do. There’s been talk of WitSec, but I’ve known all along what my next move was going to be and it isn’t relying on the US government to keep me safe. As soon as I’m cleared medically and have completed my duty with regard to this case, I’m out. I’ll disappear my own way, to Puerto Rico, to start over with people who love me and would do anything for me.

Lewis disagrees. He thinks I should absolutely go into witness protection and that I’m too out of it to make sound decisions right now. Can’t say I blame him. Cal’s bullet nicked my clavicle, chipping it, and also caused damage to my muscle tissue. Luckily, though, it didn’t sever any major arteries or nerves. Not that you’d know it from the pain. The only reason I can even function right now is due to a crazy cocktail of painkillers.

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