Page 38 of Duke of Ruin

“That’s ridiculous,” I argue. “Gianni will just kill us both on the spot.”

“Maybe not.” Eli shakes his head, and I swing my gaze to meet his. “Gianni doesn’t like to get his hands dirty,literally. He doesn’t care for the sight of blood or cleaning up after something like that. He won’t do it himself. That’s why he’s always hired people for that kind of work.”

“You can’t be serious,” Stacey says.

“I am,” Eli continues. “That’s why it’s so hard to make any charges stick to the man—because he’s never personally committed the crimes, he just makes all the arrangements.”

“Well, that’s going to make it a bit more difficult to pin this all on him,” Stacey grumbles.

“That’s why you need his laptop,” Eli says.

“We’ll get the computer, but we have to get him first,” Stacey says. “I just need him to admit to something. Do you think you could get him to admit he tried to have you killed? Or that he’s working with the police chief?”

“I don’t…I don’t know. He may be expecting a setup.” Eli shakes his head.

“Is that really the best you’ve got?” I ask. I take a protective stance in front of Eli.

“You have a better idea?” she asks.

I turn to Eli. Surely there has to be something else we can try. He shakes his head in defeat. If we do this and survive, it will only be short-lived if we can’t make any of the charges stick to Gianni.

“Will it work?” Eli asks. “If I get him to admit to working with the police chief, can you be sure you’ll be able to put him away?”

“Yes,” she says with confidence that I’m not sure is realistic. “If you can get that admission, then we can get a warrant for his computer and anything else we need. We can bring him and his whole operation down.” She grins at me. This is her domain; she’s always been a cop. Her job is to put away the bad guys, and she’ll stop at nothing to do it. “The chief is who managed to distract us from the investigation,” she says. “If we can take him out, too, that’s just a fuckin’ bonus.”

“How do we do this?” Eli asks. My heart starts to pound. There’s no going back from this. He could lose everything. I just hope I’m worth it.

The next several hours are spent making calls and arranging our operation. After that we spend the next several hours discussing where we’re going to go once it’s over with the Witness Protection coordinator. I tell him about the cabin, and he starts the paperwork to get the ownership name changed into my new one. It’s strange how unattached to my name I am. I guess after being undercover for so long, the names no longer matter; it’s all just a part to play. Eli seems to struggle with it a lot more than I do, but he’ll get used to it. His name actually means something to him. For a long time, it was a status symbol that represented protection, pride, and privilege. We’re both going to have to completely change our lives, but at least we’ll get to be who we really are. The names aren’t important.

As the afternoon turns into night, Stacey leaves us in the room to finalize our plans. We’re going to make this happen tomorrow afternoon. She did inform us that we’d be under surveillance for the night. I guess she’s still a little nervous that we might change our minds.

“Eli Jones and Noah Johnson,” Eli says to me once we’re alone. “Seems a little on-the-nose, don’t you think?”

“They’re definitely not the most exotic,” I say with a chuckle. “But they’re common enough that it would be hard to find us.”

“True.” Eli falls back onto the bed. “How do you know Stacey, anyway?”

“We went to school together,” I answer. “In Portland.”

“Out west?” Eli leans up on his elbow, and I flinch.

“You’re not from the West Coast, are you?” His face drops, and I feel hollow.

“No.” I look at the floor. “Maine.”

Eli huffs and falls back on the bed.

“I realized I was giving too much of myself too early,” I murmur, hoping he understands. “You were too easy to talk to, and I panicked, so I said Oregon.”

“Flattery isn’t going to work for you with this,” Eli says, but at least he’s still speaking to me.

“I’m sorry, Eli. Please believe that, I wish?—”

“Don’t,” he cuts me off. “I don’t want to talk about should’ve and could’ve. It doesn’t matter now.”

“I don’t know how to make you believe you can trust me,” I say.

“I’m here,” Eli says with finality. “I probably shouldn’t be, but I am, so I’m trying to trust you. But it might take time.”

---