Page 4 of The Knight

"He died." I clear my throat and try to swallow my tears. "There was this storm, and I—"

Before I can finish explaining, the door to my room opens. A man in a suit walks in, sharply dressed. He immediately meets eyes with Officer Lopez, and something passes between them, a tension that snaps like lightning in the air.

"I'm Ms. Wilder's lawyer, Robert Pierce." He holds out his hand. "I'll be representing her from here on out."

That's news to me.

"She's not under arrest," Officer Lopez points out, her eyes flashing as she raises her chin. "This is an active police investigation, and there's no need for lawyers here."

"Of course." Putting his hand down, the lawyer glances at me, and I frown at him. "Ms. Wilder, if there's anything you need, just let me know. I'm here to help."

Glancing at Officer Lopez, I find myself wondering what will happen if she finds out those two men wanted Silas's laptop. She'll probably want it as evidence. But I need to know what's on it before I hand it over—especially if there's anything else that might compromise his memory, like information about him dealing drugs.

But I know there's a catch. Between Cole showing up here, and now a fancy lawyer in a suit, something is going on. So I pretend to be confused, telling the lawyer, "I can't afford to pay someone."

"My services have been arranged on your behalf by a benefactor." Officer Lopez makes a face at this, and I have the feeling she'll be figuring out who this benefactor is right away. "Whatever you need, just let me know."

"Again, she's not under arrest."

"And I'm happy to ensure that it stays that way."

A snort from Officer Lopez. Looking at me, she says, "He's not your lawyer unless you say he is."

Looking at this "Robert Pierce," I find myself seeing green eyes, hearing the sound of lightning striking a tree, and feeling a snake coil around my ankle, ready to bite. This has to be because of Cole—or one of the other Elites—which means there will be a catch.

But if he can get me Silas's laptop, then I'll take his help.

"He's my lawyer," I tell Officer Lopez. "Not that I need one, right?"

"Of course not," she says lightly. "Now, for that statement..."

I tell her how Silas died, one night in a storm, hanging from a tree. My voice goes hollow as the story spills out like blood. It feels like something that's pulled out from the heart of me against my will. Lopez doesn't look surprised at my words, which makes me wonder if my brother's death came up when they ran my identity through whatever database they have. Clearly my disguise as Brenna Cooke wasn't as thorough as I wanted to believe. There must have been something I forgot to take care of—that or, Hass straight up told them my real name, which is entirely possible.

I want him to pay for what he did. To Mariana, to me, and to Georgia even. But I won't be able to do that without evidence, and right now the only evidence I have, I can't give to the police without betraying someone's confidence. And neither Georgia nor Mariana would testify against Hass.

"Brenna?" Officer Lopez is watching me. "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

Opening my mouth, I consider telling her all about what I saw Hass do to Georgia. But what did Ireallysee—him push her against the wall, her squirm and tell him no? Afterwards she was mad that I intercepted, so I doubt she'd back up my version of events, truthful as it is.

"Whatever it is," Lopez continues, "you can tell me. I promise."

My Elite-appointed lawyer frowns in my direction. "Brenna, it's my duty as your lawyer to tell you not to incriminate yourself in anything."

Incriminate myself? Last I checked, I'm the victim here. Unless something else happened while I was unconscious in the trunk of the car—or Holly has decided to press charges for identity theft.

That's not a story I'm here to tell. This story has a far more unhappy ending, and Officer Lopez probably can't do anything to change that. Not until they identify the assholes who kidnapped me, something I have the feeling will prove to be unusually difficult, given how random all of it was.

"I just... my brother, I think he was killed."

The officer's pen pauses on her notepad. "What makes you say that?"

"Something those guys who took me said.” Reaching up, I rub my neck, the ghost of a rope felt there. "You'll find them, won't you?"

"Of course." Reaching out, Officer Lopez squeezes my hand, and I'm filled with an unexpected comfort. "We'll do everything we can in patrol to find them on the streets. Any suspicious activity, any men who fit their description, and we'll take 'em in. Speaking of, that description..."

I give her a rough sketch of both of the men, though the truth is I didn't see anything identifying about them. It was night, there was rain—and tears—in my eyes, and I barely paid attention to them. By the time I realized what was going on, they were knocking me out.

I'll never forget their voices, though. I tell the officer this, heart in my throat as I remember the words that will haunt me.

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