Page 33 of Duke of Ruin

“A cop,” he says, and his body goes limp next to me. “A cop who I’m too weak to resist.”

“That’s because you’re better than me,” I say into his back. My phone chimes on the nightstand.

“Who’s that?” Eli asks, his body suddenly going rigid.

“Someone who can help us,” I say as I roll over to retrieve the phone. I feel him shift beside me, and when I turn back to him his face is full of anger.

“Let me explain,” I say. He looks torn. I can’t start to understand how he must feel right now, but I have to find a way to convince him that I’m not the enemy, at least not anymore. His nostrils flare, but he just presses his lips together, so I tell him everything.

I tell him about my father, how he was part of the Carbone family and what happened to him when he tried to leave. I tell him about my mother and sister and how we were almost burned alive when I was a baby. I show him the scars on my arm. I tell him about becoming a cop and how I was assigned to his family. Finally I tell him about my contact, Stacey, how she’s FBI and can help us take down his uncle and the corrupt cops who keep him in business, or barring that, she can at least help us escape.

He listens quietly to my entire diatribe, his face inscrutable. I look at the phone, then back at him. “She said to call her in an hour, but I’m not doing anything else without you.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, eyeing me warily.

“I mean, whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. I don’t care as long as I’m with you,” I say. “If you want me to go to your uncle and die at his hands, I’ll willingly go if that makes you happy. If you want to run, I’m right with you. If you want to talk to Stacey and see if she can help us take your uncle down, we can do that, too. I won’t do anything that hurts you again, Eli. I love you too much for that. Just tell me what you want.”

Eli stares across the room for what feels like an eternity. It takes all I have not to beg his forgiveness again. Finally he looks at me, and his expression falls into something that looks like resignation. “Let’s see what she has to say.”

12

ELI

An hour later we’re both dressed, and I’m listening as Noah talks with his contact in the FBI. The conversation doesn’t seem to be going well. He’s gone from calmly explaining our situation to agitatedly pacing back and forth in the small room. I guess he’s not the only one who believes I’m a horrible person based on my family. I have to begrudgingly admit that he’s trying, though—trying to convince a total stranger, another cop no less, that I’m worth saving. What am I doing here? Why am I even allowing this? Noah snaps the flip phone shut and looks at me, his expression pained. I wait for the inevitable.

“She says she’ll help us, but she has some conditions,” Noah says with a shake of his head.

“Of course,” I answer. There are always conditions. That seems to be the human condition, to get whatever you can out of someone else until they’re broken and used-up. Well, fuck that.

“She wants your uncle,” Noah says as he steps closer to me, watching my reaction.

“I don’t give a shit about my uncle,” I say. “What’s the risk we have to take for this?”

“She wants you to testify after she arrests him,” Noah says, sitting down heavily on the bed next to me.

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s absurd. Even if they don’t find a way to kill me beforehand, I’d have to spend the rest of my life running. I’m not doing it.” I slowly lift my head to look at Noah, but his gaze is focused on the floor.

“Okay,” he says, and I lift my eyebrows.

“Okay?” I ask. I was expecting an argument.

“I told you, I’m not going to force, or beg, or try to coerce you into anything,” Noah says without looking at me. “I know you don’t trust law enforcement, and right now I don’t either, so if you say no then that’s it. We’ll figure something else out.”

“What does she have to do with any of this, anyway?” I ask.

“She works in the organized crime division. The Carbones’ case was reassigned last year, and Rossi was supposed to be working with them, but he went rogue for some fucking reason. According to Stacey, the FBI never approved my going undercover in the first place. This was all Rossi. She said he had some sort of personal beef with your uncle, but we see where that got him.” Noah rolls his shoulders before blowing out a breath.

“He knew who I was, and he knew what you meant to me,” I say, more to myself than Noah.

“I know, I tried to?—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off. “I don’t want any more explanations. I just want to get the fuck out of here.”

“So let’s go to the cabin. We can figure it out from there,” Noah says as he finally turns to me.

“They’ll find us,” I whisper, shaking my head.

“So what do you want to do?” Noah asks.

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