I don’t know if Bruno’s cracked under the pressure of Mitchell’s deadline, succumbed to insanity after seeing something on the job, or simply gone off his rocker. But I do know that I’m the only one standing between him and the MC’s who have come to be my friends. If Bruno goes after them, finds a way to take them down, no court in the country is going to question his evidence. He’s too smart—or maybe too ruthless—not to cover his tracks.
Gritting my teeth, I pick up my cell and shoot a text to Brooks:
Need a night off, I think. Under the weather.
What I really need is a night to come up with a plan, but god knows a little white lie won’t amount to much between us. There’s no way I’m going to figure out what to do without a little guidance, and there’s only one person in the world who can give me the advice I need right now. With a deep breath, I punch in a familiar number and wait as the phone rings.
“Well, you made it a week without my help,” grumbles a surly voice on the other end of the line. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d last more than six hours.”
“Hello to you too, Jones,” I smile, relieved to hear my mentor’s voice—no matter how grumpy it is.
“How are you holding up over there?” he asks, “Blow your cover yet?”
“Not yet,” I say wryly, “but I’ve still got a few days before the operation is called off.”
“I’m just fucking with you,” Chuck goes on. I hear him crack a beer over the line, and go to fetch one from the fridge myself. It’s almost like having a drink with an old friend, I guess.
“Jones,” I go on, knocking off the bottle cap on the edge of the counter, “I’m in need of some advice.”
“I figured as much,” he says. “What’s going on?”
“Well,” I begin, unsure of how much I should reveal to him, “Let’s just say that my investigation hasn’t exactly gone...quite as planned.”
“When do they ever?” he replies.
“Right,” I say, taking a swig of beer, “but things have really veered off course over here. I’ve come across something...pretty alarming. But it’s not really something I’ve been given the go-ahead to pursue. You follow?”
“Sure,” Chuck says, “things get tricky in the real world, huh? You’re not used to investigating people, just data.”
“Data’s a lot easier to understand,” I sigh.
“No shit,” Chuck laughs, “But that’s what makes this job fun. Listen, Collins. When you’ve got a lead, you hunt that sucker down. Worse case scenario, it dries up. Best case, you’ve figured something out that no one else would have been able to. It’s your job to chase down the truth, Quinn. No matter where it takes you. Trust your gut, and don’t be afraid to step out of line.”
“Trust my gut,” I repeat, swallowing hard. “Got it.”
“Is everything OK, Collins?” Chuck asks, concern tingeing his gruff voice. “You sound a little distressed.”
“That’s one word for it,” I laugh. “Another might be ‘terrified’.”
“Do you need backup?” he goes on. “Should I tell Mitchell—?”
“No,” I cut him off sharply, “no. You’re right. I need to sniff this out myself first. I’ll be OK, Chuck. I promise.”
“All right,” he says, “I’ll leave it to you. But you’ll call me if things get out of hand?”
“Of course,” I tell him. It’s another white lie—things have already gotten out of hand. “I’ve got to get back to it, Jones. Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Don’t you ever accuse me of being peppy,” he snaps, “but good luck all the same, Collins. You’ve got this.”
My mentor hangs up, and I’m on my own again. Only now, I know what I have to do. Something’s going on with Jeff Bruno, something beyond what the FBI knows about. And I’m the only one who has any idea. Though I’ve been told that my part in Operation Inferno is all but over, it looks like my real investigation has just begun.
Only this time, the target is Bruno himself.
“I know it’s crazy,” I say to The Mayor, who’s hopped on the bed wearing a skeptical scowl, “but I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t try and figure out the truth.”
The old gray cat pads across the covers toward me, and actually curls up in my lap. I scratch his tattered ears, amazed by his display of affection. The Mayor’s being cuddly, Bruno’s lost it, I’m falling in love with a MC bad boy. The whole damn world’s gone nuts.
My phone chirps on the bedspread. Two texts await my appraisal. The first, from Milo, I ignore without opening. That’s become my go-to tactic with any communication from him. But the second is a response from Brooks:
I bet I can make you feel better
My stomach flutters as I imagine Brooks kicking down the front door of this dingy apartment and having his way with me. I glance around the unimpressive space that the FBI has granted me. No one from my MC life knows where this place is. It’s my safe house. But considering Bruno’s actions today, it’s not feeling too safe anymore. What if that maniac shows up here to make sure I keep my mouth shut about his assault...for good?
I bite my lip, staring down at Brooks’ text. He’s as new to the MC world as I am. An outsider and a loner, just like me. It’s why we understand each other. What if...I let him in on what was going on with me? Really let him in? I could use some backup on this new leg of my investigation, especially since I have no idea who I can actually trust in the Bureau. Whether I go through with telling him the truth or not, I don’t want to be alone tonight.
I’d like that.
I send off my short reply, and follow it up with my address. My heart is racing as I shoo The Mayor off my lap and plant my feet on the ground. I pace the tiny living room, nervously sipping my beer, until a response appears on my phone.
Be right there.
Sparks of anticipation sizzle along my nerves. He’s coming here. Brooks is coming to my secret apartment, the single point of access to my real life. And I realize, as I straighten up my few belongings, that I want him to see this place. I want him to know the truth about me. What’s the point of keeping this secret from the one person who really understands me? It’s a risk, letting him in on the truth. But it’s a far bigger risk to keep him in the dark. If I’m honest with him, we have a chance at getting through this together. If I continue to lie, we’ll never make it.