Page 11 of Marked for Danger

“There’s an eyewitness, too,” Declan chimed back in. “That’s two positive I.D.’s making you the last person to see Gomez alive. And I’m willing to bet the ballistics from the gun we took off you matches the bullet the M.E. pulled out of Gomez’s brain. Oh, and just so you have all the facts, evidence suggests Gomez was forced to his knees before he was killed. You know what that’s called, Alvie?”

Both detectives waited, but the twenty-something asshat pursed his lips and remained silent.

“First degree murder,” Grady announced sternly. “That’s life in Colorado.”

A flash of real emotion filled Torres’ eyes for the first time since getting clotheslined in that alley. It was the turning point they needed.

Declan took the seat beside Grady, glancing down at the manila folder in his hands. “Says here you’re twenty-two. That’s damn near half the average inmate age. Now given that the average man lives to be seventy-four, and that’s living on the outside with comfortable shelter, healthy food options, and regular exercise and doctor visits.”

“My partner makes a good point, Alvie.” Grady spoke up again. “That means you’re home for the next fifty-two years will be an eight-by-eight concrete cell. And that’s assuming you don’t fall victim to a rival gang member or someone looking for revenge.”

“Or some guy who’s bored on a Tuesday afternoon.”

“That’s right.” Dec nodded, his appreciative look not going unnoticed. “Some of those guys will cut you just to cut you.”

“Or worse.”

“What’s worse than being shivved to death?” Torres stared back at them both. When Grady and Dec both shot him a knowing shrug, the kid’s face fell.

Grady smiled. “I think he might finally be getting it, Detective King.”

“I believe you’re right, Detective Thorne. But we should probably make sure, just in case.”

“What my partner is so politely trying to say is the whole cliché about going to prison and becoming some big dude’s bitch…” He shrugged. “All I can say is a cliché exists for a reason.”

“That’s a good point.” Declan nodded. “I’ve seen countless guys get sent to the infirmary with internal damage as a result. But I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Grady followed his partner’s lead. “The worst part will probably be not having any privacy. Depending on where they send you, you’ll probably have a cell mate. Can’t sleep alone, can’t eat alone—”

“Can’t go to the bathroom alone.” Dec continued. “Hope you’re not shy because once you’re there, you’ll be showering and shitting with a slew of your closest friends right there by your side.”

The longer they talked, the more the color drained from Torres’ face.

“I want a deal.”

The detectives shared a look before Declan reached down and picked up the final picture. “Sorry.” He stood. “The time for deals is over.”

When Grady rose to his feet and began following his partner toward the room’s secured door, Torres practically ripped his hands off trying to stand and chase after them.

“Wait!” The sound of metal clanged, the cuff’s edges striking against the two rings held in place on the table. The quad of unbendable steel bolts halted his movements, jerking the idiot back down to his seat. “I’ve got a name!”

Both men halted their steps. With his hand hovering over the door’s metal handle, Declan slid his focus back to Torres. “Who?”

“Nah, man.” Torres shook his head. “First we make the deal, and then I tell you. Otherwise, I’m as good as dead.”

“You’re going to rot behind bars if you don’t tell us.” Declan’s stone-cold gaze never wavered. “And that’sifyou don’t catch a knife to the gut before then.”

When the kid hesitated, Grady walked back over to the table. “I’d listen to my partner, Alvie. You’re gonna do time. There’s no way around that. But we can work with the D.A. on the location of your facility and the duration of your stay…ifthe intel you give us pans out.”

“Oh, it’ll pan out. No doubt.”

“This is your one chance, Alvarez.” Declan came to Grady’s side. “Give us a name right now, or there’s no deal. We’ll check out your story. If it all adds up, we’ll talk deal.”

Torres opened his mouth and closed it. He repeated the fish-out-of-water move three separate times before he finally,finallystarted talking.

“I give you a name, you’ll make sure I go someplace safe?”

“If by safe, you mean a prison with no known Los Reyes crew—”

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