Page 164 of Possession

“You fucking set me up. You lied to me and used me,” he seethes. “When the club finds out about this, they’re going to kill me.” He stands, and his words boomerang off the walls. “They’re going to fucking kill me, Boz! That’s after I get out of prison.”

“No one is going to kill you, and you’re not going to prison. At least not for anything you did while you were with me.” I stay planted in my seat as he freaks out.

“You have no fucking idea. They’re going to think I worked for you.” His eyes narrow. “I’m no narc. Hell, they’ll probably have me killed in prison.”

“Sit down, Roc, and listen. You have options.”

“Get the fuck out of my face, you lying sack of shit. I’m not listening to anything you say. I want a lawyer. I get one—I know I do. It’s my right or some shit. Get the fuck away from me.”

I lean back in my chair and don’t move. “My name isn’t Boz. It’s Brax. And you don’t need an attorney because you haven’t done anything wrong. You have options—I made sure of it.”

“I don’t have options. Someone like me never does. By you pulling me into that fucking house and making me work for you, you made sure of it. No one will trust me ever again.”

He finally sits. His elbows go to his knees, and his face falls to his hands.

“I can see where you think you have no options, but you do. What do you think would have happened to you if you stayed with the club? You’d be busted for drug possession, distribution, and any number of things the U.S. Attorney feels like throwing at you. When all is said and done, you can add money laundering to that list, and if I did my job right, club members will also be hit with RICO charges.” His head pops up and widened eyes stare at me from across the table. “Trust me, you have choices. If you’re smart, you’ll walk away a free man.”

“You lied to me. Why should I believe anything you say? You’re probably setting me up again. Using me to get to my club.”

“The club will be no more after today.”

He shakes his head. “That’s what you think. They’re powerful. Someone will find me. I know they will.”

“If you cooperate, you’re a free man. I’ll personally make sure you walk away from this. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“You can’t do that.” He juts an arm between us showcasing the half-tat that proves he tried to tie himself to the Jackals. “This means something. I can’t go back.”

“It’s a tattoo. It doesn’t mean shit unless you make it mean something. You can also make it mean nothing and start a new life.”

“How am I supposed to cooperate?” he spits. “This tattoo was still healing when they sent me to mow your fucking yard. Then you made the deal and made me stay there. I have nothing to offer, even if I did trust you, which I don’t. I’ll never fucking trust you again.”

“Let me help you.”

“Why the fuck do you want to help me?”

I mull that over, because I know my answer is important. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy or quick. “I’ve been working the case on the Marinos for two years. I have backgrounds on everyone I met, including you. When I read yours, I saw a kid who had just turned eighteen and made a shit decision because he had no other options. I can’t make you do shit, but I can make sure you have a second chance. What you do with it is up to you.”

His jaw goes hard.

I lean forward and rest my forearms on the table. “You got your GED. Do something with your life that doesn’t include anyone controlling you—especially a club. Make your own way. I’ll help you if you let me.”

He repeats his question, and this time it’s laced with venom. “What do you get out of helping someone like me?”

“Do you think the Jackals give a shit about you? They don’t. And no one else has your back.” I jut my thumb into my chest. “I had your back, Roc. I also know how much of a difference it can make when someone supports you. I was lucky enough to have that, and I’m trying to pass it on to you. Don’t shit all over an opportunity like this.”

“You’re a cop and you lied to me,” he seethes.

“Get over it. I am a federal agent, but I’m also the man who made sure you came out of this squeaky clean instead of in handcuffs when everyone else who wears that tat will. If you don’t trust me after that, then you’re proving to make one shit decision after the other.”

His anger has dissolved into something else as he goes silent. I betrayed him. Knowing his background, it’s unfortunately something he’s used to.

“Give me a chance to prove to you that I can make a difference. Do it for your future self. In a world of bad, choose good. Do you want to be on the wrong side of the law for the rest of your life?”

His jaw goes hard. If looks could kill, I’d be on my way to six feet under.

“We can hold you for twenty-four hours. We’ll make sure you have everything you need. You can be pissed at me all you want, but you need to cool off and think with a clear head. Use the time, Roc. Think hard about the possibilities—the good and the bad. Because both are fucking extreme. Think about your time at the house. Think hard, Rocco. You know me. I’m the one who had your back.” I stand and go to the door, but stop and turn back one last time. “Just so you know, you’ll break Landyn’s heart if you don’t choose well.”

That gets his attention. “She’s in on this too?”

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