Page 9 of Tortured Hearts
Henry.
I grit my teeth. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You left me under an avalanche of shit. I had enough on my plate fielding questions from the fire department and EMTs, but then the police showed up. I’m a marshal, Gianni. I didn’t signup for this.”
I guess we’re doing this now.
Carefully placing Becca’s hand by her side, I turn to find a splotchy flush working its way up Henry’s neck as he paces.
“I tried to do as much damage control as possible,” he continues. The more he paces, the harder he breathes. If the idiot doesn’t bring it down a few notches, he’s going to have a stroke.
I stand and cross my arms. “This is where you piss me off, isn’t it?”
He pauses mid-stride and flings his arms out wide. “You waved a gun in their faces, Gianni. I had no choice but to come clean.” His cheeks flame as he closes the distance between us. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Not selling me out would’ve been a good start.”
“All I did was explain the situation and your and Dr. Brennan’s unorthodox relationship.”
I stiffen. “You didwhat?”
He swings a shaking finger at my chest. “My job is to protect you, not lie for you. I’ll risk a lot of things for the people in my custody, but my badge isn’t one of them.”
This isn’t like when Henry and I were called downtown for reports of gunfire at the docks. That was the gross incompetence of two Irish idiots. This was a real fire. Real arson. Real attempted murder. A page right out of the Marchesi playbook. I don’t need George Reese to railroad me this time. I tied myself to the tracks all on my own. It doesn’t matter what version of me they’re looking for. The Providence PD will do a deep dive into my past, and the thin shell around Gianni Marchesi will crack.
Uncrossing my arms, I flick out my index finger and calmly knock his away. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I had a hand in it?”
“You’re a diabolical son of a bitch, but evenyoucan’t be in two places at once,” he mumbles, resuming hispace.
“Careful, Henry. I think you’re starting to like me.”
His response is a wide flare of his nostrils. “I said I believe you aren’t responsible for the fire, not that you don’t know who is.”
“I don’t like what you’re implying, Starling.”
“It’s Saddler, and I don’t give a shit what you like. This isn’t about you.” He nods behind me at Becca. “It’s about the innocent woman who almost died tonight. Gianni, you forced me to follow those firetrucks at gunpoint and ran into a burning building, knowing exactly where to find the victim. Even you have to admit those are damning actions.”
“You think I don’t know that?” I yell, because fuck him.
“Do you?” The way he cocks his chin makes me want to knock it sideways. “A man with his freedom on the line doesn’t risk it to play hero. So you want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”
What I want is for him to shut up and stay in his lane.
“I can’t deal with this shit right now.”
“You’re going to have to.” At my scowl, he exhales roughly and drags his hand down his face. “The Providence PD is the least of your problems. I found this beside the storm drain.” He reaches in his jacket, then flips a small white card between his fingers. It’s battered and water-damaged, but there’s no mistaking what it is…
The ace of spades.
The ultimate fuck you.
When I take the card and read the word scrawled across the front, my world ignites.
Infame.
Traitor.
I was right. The fire was no accident. It was an invisible message on walls no one will ever see, and a curse on the ground markedby one name.
