Page 98 of Never Die for a Sinner
I stay rooted in place for a long time, debating on going up to my room like a good little girl or snooping.
You can probably guess which one wins in the end.
Sliding up against the wall, I listen to the sounds of the muffled voices from within.
“We believe the Burelli crime family is linked to the death of Patrick Wright,” a young cop says, while another stands beside him. “You were there that night, were you not?”
“I don’t know,” Levi counters. “You tell me.” I can just barely see him leaning against Christian’s desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s put his T-shirt on, but his hair is a tousled mess from our day down in the gym.
My breath catches in my throat. Who are they talking about?
“I was off-duty that night.”
“Off-duty. So, what did you do?”
There’s a moment of silence while my heartbeat thuds unsteadily.
“Saw a girl,” Levi says finally, and a pang of jealousy hits me in the chest.
I don’t know why. It’s not like anything we’re doing is exclusive.
Still . . . whoever she is. Fuck her.
“And what did you and this girl do, if you don’t mind me asking?”
I grit my teeth. This guy is an idiot.
“You want a play-by-play?”
“Levi,” Christian growls, silencing his brother. “The girl doesn’t have anything—”
“Cherise,” Levi cuts him off.
“Last name?”
“Don’t have one.”
The detective sighs, clearly annoyed.
“And how do you know Cherise?”
“I think we established that,” Levi replies smoothly.
“She a prostitute?”
“Bartender.”
“Same thing,” the snarky detective murmurs with a nasty grin.
Asshole.
“Would this Cherise be able to vouch for you, were we to fact-check some of your statements?”
“If you can find her, sure.”
“Where do you think she might have gone?”
“Your moth—”
