Page 39 of Claimed By the Deputies
“Give this friendship and this partnership of yours some time,” he suggests. “Earn their trust. Be yourself, your wonderful, sweet, courageous self. Do your job, give your best to everything you do. I’m sure there will come a moment when you won’teven feel the need to ask me whether you should give them your side of the story or not. You’ll know when it’s right to tell them yourself.”
I give Timothy a surprised look. “You can read me like an open book.”
“I’ve known you since you were five years old. You only ask for my direction when you’re in doubt. And when you find yourself in doubt, it’s because deep down, you know the doubt is rational and understandable. Your brain is doing the math for you. Trust yourself more.”
“I’ve had trouble trusting myself since Trevor, to be perfectly candid.” I lower my gaze in sullen shame.
Timothy clears his throat and leans forward, pushing his half-eaten croissant aside to rest his elbows on the table. “Do you remember Mary Simpson?”
“Eww. Your ex-girlfriend. The one before Danica.”
“Ex-fiancé. I wasthisclose to marrying her.” He raises a hand, putting his forefinger and thumb close together for emphasis.
I shudder at the thought. “I was never her biggest fan.”
“You saw her true colors long before I was ready to. Do you remember how hard it was for you to get through to me? In my eyes, Mary could do nothing wrong.”
“Until she did.”
Timothy chuckles dryly. “Her cheating on me with my best friend wasn’t even the first sin I forgave. She got away with so many dirty deeds before that. I was hooked. Deep. Just like you were with Trevor. Point is, Tassia, we all make terrible mistakeswhen we love the wrong people. When we keep hoping they’ll love us the way we need or deserve to be loved. Stop punishing and berating yourself over Trevor.”
“I want to agree with you?—”
“But you’re too busy punishing yourself all this time later.”
“Pretty much.” I can’t help but laugh bitterly.
I do remember Mary Simpson. I remember how happy Timothy was in the beginning, then how drained he was later on down the road. How he struggled to see the truth, even when it was staring him in the face. I was just a kid back then, but now it all makes sense. Timothy was me, and I was him, in more ways than one.
Loving the wrong people makes us do stupid things, but we can’t dwell on them.
I’ve got three gorgeous former Army Rangers to get back to. Three wonderful men I’m lucky to have.
I can’t fuck this up.
7
MITCH
Stuart Johnson looks so small yet so mean in his seat.
Granted, the clinical white lighting of our interview room doesn’t exactly work to anyone’s advantage. The neon beam is positioned directly above the table, casting deep shadows across his bony face.
“I’m not having this conversation until I have a deal in writing,” he insists.
“I heard you the first time,” I say, sitting across the table from him while Lucas quietly paces the room. “Problem is your demands are ridiculous. The DA refuses to give you zero jail time for the amount of drugs we found at your place. And Billy Jade seems pretty content with letting you take the fall for that.”
“That stash was both of ours. Not just mine!”
“Then help us. Give us names. Distributors.”
“Not until I get my deal!”
Lucas scoffs, pausing to scratch his chin. “You’re not hearing us, Stuart. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to cooperate. Youare not getting the deal of your dreams with so much blood on your hands.”
“What blood? All I did was sell!”
“We can link you to at least three overdose deaths in the past year alone,” I say. “Stuart, we’ve got it all. On tape, on paper. Witnesses. You’re cooked, buddy.”
