Page 122 of Long Gone

His questions surprised me. I had planned to let it go, because the people who’d mistreated me were the law, and there was no way to find out what happened within the system from outside of it.

But what if I used other methods that wouldn’t be condoned for someone wearing a badge?

What if I could get retribution after all?

“There it is,” he said with a dark smile as he drove through the intersection.

His comment made me feel dirty…but also empowered. I wasn’t used to playing the victim, and I relished the thought of shedding that skin. Nevertheless, I knew he was trying to distract me. “What unfinished business are you working on? Does it have something to do with the people you left behind in Fenton County?”

His body tensed with a raw, angry edge that filled the car. If I didn’t know he wanted to work with me, I might have jumped out of the car and run.

“I left those people behind, and I’ve never looked back,” he said. “What I’m looking into is something else entirely.”

He could have been saying that just to protect them, but the conviction in his eye convinced me. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I believe that you’re not doing this for anyone in Fenton County.” But I still believed it had some connection to that place. Especially since he’d expressed multiple times that semantics mattered.

His shoulders seemed to relax.

“You told me a while back that your brother Scooter’s in Fenton County,” I said. “Did he turn his back on you too?”

“I got his girlfriend killed.”

“You killed her?” I asked in shock.

“No,” he spat out in disgust. “She was murdered by my rivals. To hurt me.”

“And he didn’t forgive you?”

“I didn’t forgive myself.” He shuddered slightly as though realizing he’d shared things he hadn’t meant to share. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about the parts of your conversation with your father that you haven’t shared with me yet.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he growled.

I turned in my seat to face him, trying not to flinch at the pain from my chest wound. “How about you quit pretending that I’m dumb? You have a specific question to ask, Malcolm? Ask it. If I know, I’ll tell you. God’s honest truth.”

“You’re expecting me to ask specific questions about the conversation you had with your father when I have no idea what you discussed?” he demanded.

“I suspect there’s something specific you want to know, and no, I’m not going to just give it to you. You’ve been keeping this piece of information from me, and I suspect it does have something to do with Hugo’s murder. So pull on your big boy pants, Malcolm, and ask.”

His teeth were clenched so tightly, I was sure he’d ground his molars down a few millimeters. “Fuck you, Adams.”

I gave him a saccharine smile. “No thanks. Not interested.”

His face turned bright red and a vein in his forehead throbbed, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I’d gone too far.

He took several deep breaths. “Not now.”

I suspected he was buying time so he could figure out a way to get me to confess without giving me anything of his own. I’d let him have it for now.

“Okay.”

“You gave in too damn easy.”

I just shrugged. “So where are we going?”

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