“So you’ll talk to her about doing dumb shit?” her dad asked again, looking at me hopefully.
Rubbing my face with both hands, I gave in. “Fine, I’ll talk to her about it, but knowing Bex, she’ll probably stew over it for the next thirty years anyway.”
Nodding at me, he turned back to the house and shouted, “Time to make it look like a homicidal maniac’s dream.”
Yup, because I was a sucker, we were going back in to put the plastic down on the floors for her.
As we walked back, Alex asked, “Why are we doing this if she’s getting them sanded and refinished?”
“Because she doesn’t want to risk the guy sanding down too far. She got it in her head that if she gets paint on it, he’ll have to sand down, even more, to get it off and ruin the grain of the wood,” I explained.
“She’s not all wrong,” Hurst nodded. “That can happen. When we were redoing the house, Lindee dropped yellow paint on the floor, and sanding it out was a bitch. The guy who came to refinish the floors had to sand a bit more to get it out of the grain, which meant he had to put an extra coat of varnish over the area. I swear even now, it looks different.”
I have no idea if that was true because I’d never done it before, but Bex had started the job, so I was going to have to finish it.
With the mental image of her shitty gag reflex haunting me.
The next day…
I hadn’t slept for shit last night, and coming into work today to hear that Diego Mantoya, his buddy the linebacker, Ashesh, had made bail just put me in an even worse mood.
“Once it goes to court, they’ll be sentenced. It’s just shitty they got bail,” DB sighed as he told me the news.
“How did that even happen? He’s got a record for similar crimes. Hell, we found the drugs in his home, we have Cinder’s statement, and we’ve got the bodycam footage of those fucking tear gas canisters,” I growled, wanting to tear the head off whoever granted him bail.
“I don’t have the answers for why, Logan. The judge heard the case this morning and granted it. We’ve got three months until his next appearance in court for the case, so we gather as much evidence as we can, and we keep an eye on them.”
“It was Ingleston, wasn’t it?”
Ingleston was a judge who was notorious for granting bail when it shouldn’t be given. We hadn’t been able to get anything on him to date, but there was a lot of suspicion over how lenient he was with some cases.
He didn’t say the words, but the way DB’s lips pinched answered my question.
“I thought the ADA was looking through his cases for us?”
“He is, but there isn’t sufficient evidence to go after Ingleston yet. Mantoya lawyered up with none other than King Kirkwood, too, so it was always going to be a shit show.”
Yet another rat on the ship—our mayor’s son, who was a crooked son of a bitch. “Is Diego back at the property we arrested him in?”
DB smiled smugly at the question. “You mean in the house opposite Jarrod Klein? Yes, he is. Jarrod has also kindly granted us access to his doorbell and security cam footage.”
At least there was that.
Running my hand through my hair, I put the frustration and anger in a box, knowing there’d be a day soon where I’d be dealing with Diego and making sure he wasn’t allowed back out onto the streets.
“What now?”
“Well,” DB clapped his hands together, “seeing as how you’re all fired up and motivated. I need someone to look through all the shit we have on him under Diego Mantoya and his real name, as well as his buds. Find out more about Ashesh’s background and how he fits into it, maybe even speak to the brother, Cullan. Oh, and contact the witnesses from the previous cases again to see if they’ve remembered anymore about their run-ins with the group.”
“That sounds like overtime to me.” And overtime sounded good at this moment in time. I had too many conflicting thoughts and emotions inside me, both with work and Bexley. I needed something to distract me from all of it.
“It does, doesn’t it? And you’re the perfect guy for the job.”
I was just turning to leave and get to it when he called my name. Looking at him over my shoulder, I frowned at the expression on his face.
“Just to let you know, I did Bexley’s background check and sent it to Principal Teller two days ago. Between you and me, it looks like she’s got the job. I just thought you might like to know that.”
Not knowing what to say, I lifted my chin and left the room.
This added to the mess inside me I’d just been talking about, but it also took away one of the things I’d been worried about—the possibility of Bex changing her mind.
My brain was fucking with me, and I didn’t like it.
By tonight all of her shit would be on its way here, and with her house ready to decorate and a job waiting for her, that meant she was staying here for sure. Which meant I’d get to spend time with her, and we could figure out whatever it was that we had going on.
I wasn’t ready to relax altogether, but I also wasn’t in the mood to rip someone’s head off any more now.
Chapter Eight
Bexley
Two days later…
Don’t be a pussy and grow a set of lady balls, Bexley Anne.
When I’d woken up early and decided to come and see Logan, I’d thought it would be much easier than this.
Now that I was standing in front of P.V.P.D., though, all the confidence I’d felt was gone. I was also aware that if I stood here any longer staring at the place,
