Page 6 of Give Me Forever Love

I stand up and follow him out, wondering who it could be.

Twisting my neck, I pop out the creaks as we pass by other cells with men sitting in here, probably wondering the same thing as me.

When the fuck will I get out?

I’m directed to a small room where a man in an expensive black suit waits for me.

Bombs filled with crackles of color blast and I can see it through the window at the top of the wall. Colors of red, blue, and white gleam against slicked back hair.

“You got fifteen minutes,” the guard warns before he exits the room.

I cross my arms as Danny O’Brien stands with his hands coolly slid into the pockets of his slacks. A black watch stands out on his wrist. His skeleton tattoo peeks above the cuff of his pocket.

He smirks at me. “Good to see you,” he says, walking toward one of the metal tables. He slides the chair out with easy grace and releases the button on his blazer before he takes a seat. Leaning back with one arm resting on the table, he nods toward the other chair

I decide to stand, crossing my arms over my chest.

He shrugs. Sitting up, Danny clasps his hands in front of him. “How have you been?”

“Been better,” I reply.

He chuckles. “Obviously.”

“You?” I ask.

“Good. Things are good.” He unclasps his hands and tugs lightly on the cuff of his sleeve.

“Can you tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”

He lifts his brow, obviously surprised at my tone. I have a feeling not many people speak to him like that.

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” he says with a slight tilt of his head, revealing a thick black cross on his neck.

“Oh yeah?” I question.

“I know things aren’t looking good for you.”

“And how do you know that?” I ask, lifting my chin.

He sighs. “Bryce, I know people high up on the ladder. Those lawyers you’ve hired aren’t going to be able to make this disappear. You’re in some deep shit. They’ve got you for racketeering. The prosecutor has it out for you and he wants to make an example.”

“I got caught two days ago. How the fuck do you know all of this already?”

“I hear things,” he says on a shrug. “I got my brother to make some phone calls. The judge is a nasty motherfucker,” he says. “Between him and the DA, you will be doing hard time.”

I narrow my eyes before running a hand over my chin, two-day stubble scratching my digits.

“And how do I know any of this is true?”

He leans back again. “I guess you just have to trust me.”

“Oh, you mean like I trusted you before?” I question. “Because I don’t think that went the way I wanted it to.”

I hired Bones and his crew to get rid of Cain, Claire’s crazy ex. They cut his throat, but somehow, he got help and recovered. He came back and manipulated Claire’s life.

He bought a fucking restaurant and set it all up for her to work there as the head chef.

It was all a ploy to get to her. She had no idea he owned it, thinking it was someone making an investment who wished to be a silent partner.

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