He sits back and fingers a lock of my hair, his gaze thoughtful.
We sit in silence for so long, droplets of rain start to splatter the windshield in a quiet cacophony. As thunder rumbles in the distance, I finally gather the nerve to speak again. “I just want to know the truth,” I admit. “About Faith. About everything. And if my brother was involved…” I trail off, unable to even finish the sentence out loud. “I want to know the truth,” I say instead.
“Do you think you can handle that?” Rafe demands. “Doing what needs to be done, even if your brother is involved. Turning him in?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, looking down.
“If Faith were just upfront with me, we wouldn’t be in this shit. If she trusted me.” His voice is a rasp, revealing just how much that bothers him. “Maybe I could have helped her if she did.”
“What about her friend?” I ask, picturing the girl we met after Faith went missing. “The one we spoke to in the alley.”
“Her?” He strokes his chin with one hand, looking more puzzled than ever. “Maybe… We could—” he breaks off sharply, shaking his head. “Never mind. Forget it. I don’t think she knows anything, and…”
I look up to find him watching me, his brow furrowed. “How did you know how to open her phone?” he asks. “You never told me what the password was.”
It’s a question he has every right to ask, but I cringe in the face of it nonetheless. My eyes burn, watering before I can even think to blink the tears back. In vain, they spill anyway.
“I used DW’s real name,” I admit. “Who I think he is, anyway.”
Slowly, understanding dawns over Rafe’s face. His eyes widen, his jaw clenching. Finally, he growls, “Branden Dewitt. I’m such a fucking idiot!” He forms a fist, slamming it into the steering wheel, but I brace my hand over his shoulder, sensing the tension coiled within each muscle.
“I think Branden was DW, but I don’t think he killed Faith by himself. He mentioned someone. He said someone would come after us. He didn’t know how the police had even traced him to Faith—they searched his house too—”
“Did he hurt you?” Rafe grabs my hand, drawing it onto his lap. Heat shoots down my spine as he uncurls every finger, inspecting the small scrapes and scratches I hadn’t noticed until now.
“No,” I say. “But I’m scared. And if he hurt Faith… He deserves to be punished.”
Rafe jerks his chin in agreement. “If Ace is too chickenshit to delve into this, then we need more. Something to tie it all together. We know this ‘DW’ got Faith into deep shit. All of it ran through Gino’s. And now with the fire? His place is ground zero.”
“But, I’m guessing Faith didn’t leave behind a full confession?” I nod to the phone still in his hand.
“No,” he admits. “But I think I know where we can get something close to that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Where?”
“It’s a stupid idea,” he warns, averting his gaze.
“But it’s not like we have a better one. You’re a suspect,” I point out. “We don’t have a lot of options. And if Branden—” I can’t even say it. The pain is still there, waiting to overwhelm me at any moment. The tears are still falling.
But I choose to focus on what I can change. I’m tired of cowering in my brother’s shadow. Sighing, I stroke my thumb across the back of Rafe’s hand. “Do you have an idea or not?”
“Everything points back to Gino’s club,” he says finally, his tone grim. “The motherfucker is hiding something, and if Ace is anywhere near right…then, it’s bad. The kind of shit I’d have to be an idiot to get you into. No—” He snatches his hand away, gripping the steering wheel. “I’m not getting you involved in this.”
“I want answers as much as you do.” I’m surprised by how desperate I sound—and I am in every sense of the word. Desperate for clarity. For the truth. For answers. With a trembling hand, I swipe at my tears and fight to keep my voice steady. “I can’t live like this anymore. So tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Fine,” he growls in defeat. “You mentioned Faith’s friend—”
“Lylah,” I blurt, remembering the name Liam had used. “I think she spoke to the police as well.”
“Well, if we can get her or one of the girls still working there to talk to us, maybe they could give us something worth taking to the cops. Something worth dragging Ace by his hair until he gives us everything we need, at least.”
I wince in sympathy for the scrawny hacker, but then another thought comes to me. “Wasn’t there a fire? Won’t it be closed—”
“Like Gino would let that stop him,” Rafe remarks with a harsh laugh. “I’m sure he’s holed up somewhere. If we could find out where and get in, we could…”
“But Gino would never let you walk through his front door,” I point out, envisioning how their last meeting went. For emphasis, I brush my hand along Rafe’s still bruised jaw.
“You’re right,” he says softly, stroking his fingers over mine. “He wouldn’t let me. But if we could use a decoy…”
“Like me?”
He glowers at the mere idea of it. “Hell no. You clean up nicely and all, bunny, but no. Don’t even think about it—”
“I’ll do it.”
“No.” He palms the steering wheel while shifting the car into drive. From the set of his jaw, I can tell that he’s more than ready to leave this conversation behind.
But something inside me won’t let him balk so easily. “Are you afraid that I’ll succeed where you couldn’t?”
His shoulders slump in defeat as he shakes his
