Page 10 of Chaos Claimed

For a fleeting second, Gilmore’s eyebrows knitted together, his lips pressed into a razor-thin line, then his features eased. He relaxed his stance, slipping his hands into his pockets.

Something pissed off Gilmore, and Santiago doubted it was the scum comment.

“When’s the sheriff planning to officially retire?” Santiago asked casually, leaning his shoulder against the bars.

The corner of the deputy’s mouth twitched into a faint sneer, disappearing with a swipe of his hand across his mouth. “Let’s keep our focus on you and leave department matters to those who actually work here.”

Santiago had hit a nerve. Interesting. This was his first real exchange with Gilmore, and it was revealing more than he’d anticipated about the cop. He couldn’t help but wonder what other cracks might be forming in the sheriff’s department. Jail was turning out to be unexpectedly enlightening.

Gilmore coveted Sheriff Mahoney's position, thinking he deserved it after fifteen years of questionable service. The way he crossed his arms and leaned back spoke volumes. He wasn’t just scrutinizing Santiago, but closing himself off.

“Fine.” Santiago nodded. “Tell me what deal you have with Jacob Weaver.”

The deputy’s eyebrows lifted and lips parted a fraction of a second. He snorted, glancing away. “Deal?” Gilmore glanced back at him. “You punched a guy in the face. Possibly broke his nose. That’s assault. No deal. Just charges.”

Reading Gilmore was too goddamn easy. Santiago was lowkey having fun while learning about the guy. That quick curl of the lip, the wrinkle of the nose—Jacob was like a bitter taste to the deputy.

“So, you showing up moments after I allegedly busted that bitch in his mouth was sheer coincidence?” Santiago arched a brow, watching Gilmore closely.

He didn’t have to read microexpressions this time. Gilmore openly sneered at him. He clearly thought Santiago was scum. The game was no longer enjoyable. The prick knew nothing about him, yet dared to judge. A hot surge of anger pulsed through him, but Santiago restrained it.

All he wanted was to get back to Percy, frustrated he’d been forced into his compliance with Gilmore. Diablo had probably devoured the entire pot of spaghetti by now. The garlic bread was what Santiago had truly wanted.

And to spend time with his elegido.

“Is Jacob pressing charges or am I free to go?” Santiago stepped back from the bars, and away from Gilmore before he shoved open the cell door and reminded Gilmore what a real threat looked like.”

“He hasn’t showed up yet.” Gilmore tucked his thumbs into his utility belt and shrugged. “I can hold you up to forty-eight hours.” He leaned in, sneering. “Or longer. You know, accidentally forget you’re back here.”

The threat was meant to provoke Santiago, ignite a reaction in him. But instead of the expected fury, he delivered a response cloaked in icy calm. “Cuando el diablo descienda sobre ti, recuerda este momento, pendajo,” he murmured, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth as he punctuated the pact motto with a mocking kiss in the air.

When the devil descends upon you, remember this moment, asshole.

“What did you say?” Gilmore’s hand rested loosely on the butt of his gun, his gaze narrowed.

“Go find a dictionary.” Santiago returned to his cot and lay down, tucking his arm behind his head. His pack would come for him. Matias wouldn’t let Santiago rot in jail. And when he got out, he was hunting down Jacob.

Deputy Folger rounded the corner, giving Santiago a quick glance before addressing Gilmore. “His attorney’s here.”

“He has a lawyer?” Gilmore snapped.

Santiago had a lawyer? Since when? Intrigued and puzzled, he sat up. “Send them back here.”

A tall figure appeared in the hallway, wearing a sharp suit. His hair was a stylish cascade of black, but it was the crisscross scar over his left eye that drew attention.

With him came the unmistakable scent of a hyena.

A low growl rumbled from Santiago’s throat. What game was this hyena playing, and how did he know about Santiago’s arrest?

Santiago’s gaze flicked to Gilmore, catching the brief smirk that vanished as quickly as it appeared. His mind raced. Jacob and Gilmore had orchestrated his arrest. Initially, he’d assumed it was a ploy so Jacob could get to Percy and Macey, but what if that wasn’t the case?

Diablo had been subdued by a tranquilizer that locked his beasts within his body. Was that why the hyena had come? To do the same to him?

The walls seemed to close in on him, and the harsh fluorescent lights flickered ominously overhead. Santiago’s gaze darted around the confined space, knowing full well that if the hyena produced a tranquilizer gun, there was no escape, nowhere to hide.

For the first time since his arrest, a cold, unrelenting fear gripped Santiago, its icy fingers wrapping around his spine.

Gilmore and Folger exited the hallway, leaving Santiago alone with the so-called lawyer. “You’re not a real attorney.”

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