Page 67 of Dirty Behavior

I lied. Yes I knew who was in that picture, but would I ever give them that?

Fuck no.

“You sure about that? I mean, that is your father, so you must have met the other man at some point.” Detective Carol spun his pen in his fingers, flipping it over and over again. “Why don't you take another look.”

Dropping the picture back to the table, I leaned back in the chair and folded my arms. “Don't know him.”

It took everything I had to not react to his face. Just seeing him there made me want to kill him again. After what he tried to do, after what he had said to me. . .

He deserved to be resurrected, just so I could watch the look in his eyes when I killed him a second time.

It was Tony. He didn't have shit to do with my father's death. But what he tried to do to Ivy still burned me deep.Bastard.

These guys were so far off the map, it was like they were reading it backwards, leading themselves away from the treasure.

Nodding his head up and down, Jones slid the other photo over the table. “How about this one, do you recognize anyone in there?”

Flaring my nostrils, my patience was running thin.Really fucking thin.Glancing down, my heart stopped, muscles shaking deep against the bone.

“You're aware we found a note on your father, we think this might be Celia.”

Grinding my teeth, I shoved the picture away. It was my Ivy, not his Celia. The picture cut through me, slicing in every direction, turning me from just frustrated and annoyed to fuming on the inside.

The image was small, pulled off a security camera. It was from the night we stole her, the night I breathed life back into her soul. Tony had his back to the camera, Vince had Ivy folded over his shoulder like a bag of sand.

“This came to us the other day, sent in anonymously. We think that's the same guy that was in the other picture.”

Cocking out my jaw, I pressed my palms into the table and stood up. “Look, it's been fun, but we're done here.” Rounding the table, I held the handle in my hand. “Good luck on your case guys, if you need me again, you can call my lawyer.”

“Dante. . .” Jones spun in his chair, tapping the tip of his pen against his jaw. “We know that your brother had been locked up for a while, we know that your father was really good at making sure people who screwed him over got what they had coming.”

Holding the knob, I spoke into my chest as I kept my face against the wood. “What are you getting at?” My arms started to shake, rage-filled tremors breathed life into the sinew.

What the hell is he thinking?

A smirk teased his lip, fingers rolling the pen like a log on a rushing river. “I think you know what I'm saying, I think you know exactly what I'm saying.” Leaning back, he lifted his leg over his knee. “Maybe someone else decided to strike first.”

Snapping my head over my shoulder, my eyes emptied into bottomless pits. “You might want to be careful with that one, the wrong accusation could land you on the other side of the fence.” Slamming the door as I walked out, my face fell, expression stiff and unwelcoming. I didn't have time for their shit.

Sesto wasn't involved. Even if he wanted to be, no one would back him. So unless he hired an outside hit, they were reaching at straws. The fucking detectives were so far in their own asses they would never see the real killer.

For the first time ever, I was actually happy that I knew who had done this. If I had to rely on the brilliant work of the Hoboken police department, we'd be running in circles, biting at our own tails.

They weren't looking in the right place, they were looking at our own guys. Sesto knew better than that, and he would never have been able to convince Tony to do it for him. Their star suspect was already disposed of, gone, turned into cement.

Tony hadn't killed my father, that guy couldn't take a piss without someone giving him orders to. The whole idea was ridiculous.

And having to see that picture of Ivy, out cold, defenseless, with Vince's hand on her ass. . .

It fucking pissed me off.

I had to get home to her. I wanted to kiss her, hold her, tell her I was sorry for sending those scumbags to get her that night. I hadn't thought about what they could have done to her before they brought her to the pit. I hadn't even considered the idea of her being out cold and unaware of their hands as she was brought to us.

The thought ascended on my body, taking my warming heart and turning it stone cold. Ivy needed me, the baby needed me.

And knowing she had needed help when I wasn't there to protect her. . . I was ready to rip Remo's head clear off.

I didn't need help from anyone to finish this.

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