Beneath These Lies (Page 71)

“I wanna give you shit for keeping eyes on her all the time, but I can’t. I respect that you’re keeping her safe. If I had to lose her to anyone, at least I know you’ll make sure nothing touches her.”

“Damn right. And that nothing includes you.”

Hennessy raised his hands. “I conceded. Hands off. Tell me that’s not why you dragged me down here. I got better shit to do than gossip like old ladies.”

I sobered. “No, it’s not.”

Hennessy’s easy smile disappeared. “You found the recordings from the wire?”

I nodded. “Got them from one of your guys.” I held up a USB drive.

“You listen to it?” Hennessy asked as he reached for it.

I jerked my hand back out of his reach.

“Some shit you need to know before you listen, because I’m not sending you into this blind. You’re not gonna fucking believe me, but I’m not making shit up here. It ain’t what you want to hear. It’s gonna tear up the world you know, and you’re gonna have choices to make.”

Hennessy narrowed his eyes. “Fucking give it to me, and stop with the warnings and tell me what you know.”

I took a long breath and released it. “Your brother wasn’t dirty.”

Relief flashed on his face. “I knew that.”

I prepped myself to deliver the blow that would rock his world. “But your pop is.”

Other than the blink of his eyes, Hennessy went completely still before lunging at me. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

I held up the USB drive. “I’m not making shit up. I’m just the messenger.”

“No fucking way. I don’t believe you.” His jaw clenched and unclenched in time with his fists, and I wondered if he’d take a swing at me.

I offered the USB drive to him, and he snatched it out of my hand. “I wouldn’t want to give anyone that news. Ever. But it’s the truth.”

“No fucking way.” He stared at the drive as if it were going to grow fangs and strike his hand.

“I’m sorry, man.” And I was. I hadn’t known my pop so I couldn’t relate, but the way his face twisted with pain would sink deep into anyone’s gut.

“Won’t fucking believe it until I hear it. No goddamned way.” His words were ground out from between teeth clenched so tight, he’d be taking a trip to the dentist if he didn’t ease up.

“I got a laptop in my ride, if you want.” I didn’t know why I offered. He wasn’t gonna want shit from me for help.

Hennessy rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m not using my department computer to listen to this shit, because that’s what this is—shit. Bullshit.”

I said nothing. There was nothing I could say he’d want to hear right now. Or ever, probably. His life was getting fucked in a way he never saw coming.

I jerked my head toward the door where I parked outside. I had no idea where Hennessy parked, but he wasn’t a moron, so I doubted it was anywhere someone would connect him to being here. He followed me, the thump of a fist slamming into the metal door and the crash of the door into the brick of the building trailing us.

I popped the lock on the Chevelle and reached inside to pull a small laptop out of my backpack. I held out my hand for the USB drive, and Hennessy slapped it back into my palm.

I booted it up and slipped the drive in. Neither of us spoke as we waited for the recording to start.

I’d listened to it a dozen times, so I knew exactly how it went. Hennessy listened in silence, fists clenching, deep creases furrowing his forehead. I wished I hadn’t been watching when he recognized his pop’s voice. Crushing. That’s what it was.

Lifting both hands to his face, he slid them up and over to grasp the back of his head, breaths coming fast and uneven. Man on the edge.

“Again. Play it again,” he demanded.

So I did.

Six times.

After the last time, Hennessy spun and strode to the door, punching it with the force of the rage clawing its way out of him.

“Fuck.”

He was going to break his hand if he did it again—if he hadn’t already. When he bent at the waist and reached for his ankle, I tensed, instinctively going for the gun tucked into the back of my jeans.

The pistol flashed out of the ankle holster, but Hennessy never turned around. He unloaded it at the brick wall, chunks flying everywhere.

Ears ringing, and ducking to dodge the brick shrapnel, I watched as the man battled with the demons I’d just unleashed in his life.

When the gun was empty, he threw it at the wall and roared.

Reminding me of a wounded beast, he spun, veins popping from his skin, tendons strained as he continued to bellow at the sky.

“Fuck!”

He needed to pull his shit together before he came completely unglued. Or he needed to take it like a man and get wasted.

“Whiskey, bourbon, vodka, or tequila?” I asked.

“Bourbon,” he bit out.

“I’ll meet you at the Saint.”

For a moment, I thought he’d tell me to go fuck myself, but he didn’t.

“I’ll be there.”

I FOLLOWED RIX’S INSTRUCTIONS, LOCKING the house and setting my alarm before settling down with a glass of wine and a book to wait for him. One glass turned into two, and then three.

It was all the book’s fault, I swear. Angsty love-triangle nonsense. She just needed to pick one, but I couldn’t stop reading. I laughed at myself. I was just as bad as this heroine, but at least I’d made my decision. I hoped my happily-ever-after was coming next.