Page 179 of Possession

“Dammit!” Micah bellows through the small space. “What the hell is he doing going in without a full team?”

I wipe the tears that won’t stop since we left my house after learning the news my father is a murderer.

Not only that, he’s a cop killer. My father caused the Cruz family the worst heartache anyone can experience.

How will I look them in the eyes again … let alone be a member of their family?

I felt physically ill on the drive here. Now all I can think about is that Brax isgoing in. And whatever he’s walking into, Rocco is there too. And from the sounds of it, he’s in trouble.

“What do we do?” I ask Micah.

He huffs. “Since I’m stuck babysitting you, we sit and wait.”

“I’m sorry I’m a mess. I’m so afraid of what Brax will do when he learns about my dad. And now he’s trying to save Rocco without backup, which means Rocco is in trouble. You should go. I’ll wait here. I promise.”

He spears me with an irritated glare. “My best friend already came at me once because of you. He told me not to take my eyes off you—which I fucking did—and you got into a catfight with your own mother. You have the blood on your hands to prove it.”

I cradle my forehead in my hand as I lean into the window. “Don’t remind me. And I’m sorry Brax kicked your ass over me.”

“Whoa.” He puts a hand up. “Let’s get something straight. Brax did not kick my ass. That was what you call a colorful discussion between friends. All I’m saying is you’re not leaving my sight. You’d better not have to go to the bathroom, or else we’re about to become better friends than either of us wants.”

I lean my head back on the headrest and close my eyes. I think Micah appreciates the quiet, because he doesn’t try to make me feel better about anything, and the way I see it, my list of things that have gone to shit is long.

There’s no activity on the closed-circuit radio. I glance at the clock on the dashboard and realize it’s only been a couple minutes. “Micah?”

I swear I hear a barely-audible groan.

“You’ve known Brax a long time, right?” I ask.

“We’ve been over this. Since the academy.”

I unbuckle and turn in my seat. “I love him. I told him I’d go anywhere with him. But we’re new. You know him better than I do.”

“You’re right,” he deadpans. “I do.”

“What do you think Brax will do when he finds out about my father?”

He pauses for a moment before turning to me. “There are a lot of variables. I don’t want to make you an accessory to what might or might not happen. Plus, your dad is in jail as we speak. Despite what you see on HBO, it’s not easy to”—he takes his hand and slices it across his throat—“take care of your problems from afar.”

Shit. I wish Brax would’ve figured this out while he was still undercover. He did it with Damian and Nic. There’s no doubt he would’ve taken care of my father in the same way.

And I wouldn’t be upset about it.

“I’m worried that he’ll hate me, Micah.” My voice is small and shaky in the quiet car as I admit my biggest fear to Brax’s friend. “Do you think he’ll hate me?”

He stares out the windshield, surveying our surroundings. “Since I’ve known Braxton Cruz, I’ve never known him to fall in love with a woman whose father killed his brother for a fucking initiation.” He throws me a sarcastic glance. “So, no, I have no idea how he’ll react in this exact situation.”

A lump forms in my throat so thick it threatens to choke me. I’m about to beg him to talk to Brax for me, but I jump when the radio crackles to life. I brace as I hear Brax’s clipped, demanding voice boom across the frequency.

His words are dreadful enough.

But they’re coupled with gunshots in the background.

I pray he walks out of this alive to hate me.

Right now, I’ll take the hate.

44

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