Web of Lies (Page 83)

"Nothing more, nothing less. And there were no other options, detective. Because the police in this town are a joke, and we both know it. The only law, the only justice, in Ashland is what people make for themselves."

Donovan flinched at my harsh words, but he didn’t dispute them. "I just – I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, Gin. But this thing with us, it’s over."

"So you’re leaving town to get away from me?" I snapped.

Donovan lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. "Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s not all about you. Part of it is the department. There’s so much corruption there. I’m just… tired of it all. Of getting up every single f**king morning and knowing that I’m fighting a losing battle. I’m on the edge here, Gin. Close to becoming just like all the other crooked cops in this city. Letting you go after Alexis James was one thing. She came after both of us first. But Tobias Dawson, that was different. If it had been anyone but you, I would have cuffed your ass and dragged you down to headquarters before you got anywhere near Dawson. But I didn’t. And I regret it. More than you’ll ever know. I’m sorry, Gin. I want you to know that. I really am sorry."

"No," I said. "I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry I wasted my time on you. Face it, Donovan. You’re not leaving town because I killed Dawson. You’re leaving town because you didn’t stop me from doing it. Because you didn’t have the strength to. Because even now, despite everything, you still want to f**k me. You’re running away because your morals are more important to you than anything else, including what you could have with me."

Donovan flinched, but he didn’t deny the truth of my words. It was too late for that. Now the detective just looked weary. His resignation only made me angrier. For a moment, the rage surged through me, hard and cold and bitter as bile. I wanted to throw something, break something. I wanted to break him. Palm my knife, step forward, and slash his throat with it. Hurt him like he was hurting me.

But I drew in a breath. I might wound Donovan with words, but nothing else. I might be a former assassin, but I was better than that. I’d never killed out of passion, and I wasn’t going to start now. The detective wasn’t worth it.

"You turned your back on me at the mine because you were glad I was dead," I said. "Because the choice to be with me had been taken out of your hands, and your precious morals were still intact. And then I popped up again, still alive. And you were right back to square one. That’s the real truth, isn’t it?"

He didn’t say anything. And I finally let myself acknowledge something I’d known all along. Donovan Caine wanted me, but he wasn’t strong enough to accept me. Not my past, not my strength, not the woman I was. Bitter disappointment filled me, replacing my rage, but I forced myself to ask the final question I wanted an answer to.

"Where are you going?"

He shook his head. "I think it’s better if you don’t know that, Gin."

I nodded. Maybe it was.

"I also came here to warn you," Donovan said in a soft tone. "Jonah McAllister is out for blood for whoever killed his son. He won’t stop until he finds the person responsible. One of my sources says he’s looking into everyone Jake had a problem with – including you. And Mab Monroe doesn’t think you died in the mine with Dawson. My captain got a call from her the other day wanting to know if we’d found any more bodies in the rubble. So watch your back."

"Why tell me all this?" I said. "It’s not like you care. Not really."

Not enough to stay. That’s what I wanted to say, to scream at him. But I didn’t.

Donovan shrugged. "I don’t know. I guess I felt I owed it to you. The department’s already replaced me."

"With who?" I said it more to say something than out of any real curiosity.

He shrugged again. "Some hotshot from Savannah named Coolidge. That’s all I know. A woman. Supposed to be a real go-getter. Just like you."

Donovan stared at me again. His gold eyes burned into mine. Emotions flashed in his gaze. Longing. Fear.

Regret. Determination. For once, I softened my face and let him see what I really felt for him. Surprise flickered in his eyes, and for a moment, I thought it might be enough to change his mind. But then his face hardened, and I knew I’d lost him. I hoped Donovan Caine’s morals kept him warm at night because I never would again.

Not now.

There was nothing left to say. The detective nodded at me a final time, stared into my eyes a moment longer.

Then he turned and walked out of the Pork Pit, leaving my gin joint, my heart, cold and empty and aching.

Chapter Thirty-Five

I gave Violet and Eva their promised milkshakes, then kicked them out and closed down the restaurant for the night. Thirty minutes later, I was just about to leave when the phone rang. On a whim I picked it up, half-hoping that it might be Donovan Caine, calling to apologize or – something. Anything.

"Pork Pit."

"Hello, Gin."

Owen Grayson’s deep voice flooded the line. A pleasant sound, but I couldn’t hold back my disappointed sigh.

"Owen."

"You don’t seem overjoyed about hearing from me," he said.

"What do you want?" Maybe I should have been nicer, maybe I would have been nicer if not for Donovan Caine.

"I just wanted to talk to you, see how you were, since you haven’t returned any of my messages," he said in a mild voice.

My hand tightened around the phone. Since the incident at the mine, Owen Grayson had called the Pork Pit and left me a few messages, none of which I’d returned.

Mainly because I hadn’t known where things had stood with me and Donovan Caine. Well, now I did. But I didn’t need Owen Grayson to swoop in and pick up the pieces. I could do that all by my lonesome. Been doing it for years.

"I’ve been busy."

"Seeing Donovan Caine?" he said. "Eva called and told me he stopped by the restaurant tonight and that things were tense between the two of you."

My gray eyes narrowed. "Eva’s very chatty, isn’t she?"

Owen let out a laugh. Somehow the low sound lightened my mood the tiniest bit. "Don’t blame her. I asked her to play the part of spy."

"And why is that?"

"Because my offer still stands," he replied. "About wanting to get to know the real Gin Blanco."

I snorted. I didn’t think Owen would like the real Gin Blanco and her silverstone knife collection. Then again, he hadn’t flinched that night at Mab Monroe’s party when I’d been pretending to be a hooker. Which was more consideration than Donovan Caine had ever shown me. Still, I wasn’t ready to jump into something new. Not with Owen Grayson, whose real motives were still a mystery to me. Despite the desire I’d seen in his violet eyes.