“No. Understood.” Ink reached over and ended the call.
“Who was that?” Matthieu asked.
“It’s better if you don’t know,” Ink replied. “But he’s right. The police force being corrupt makes the whole city unstable and who knows who will move in to take advantage. We take the job, we protect Maya, and we see what information we can feed to Reeves. I just need to figure out who?—”
“I will think about doing it,” Matthieu interrupted Ink.
He sighed after he said those words. It was the right thing to do. But sometimes, he wished he could do the wrong thing.
It would make his life so much easier.
“If you get the job,” Matthieu added.
“Guess that’s the best I’m going to get,” Ink replied dryly.
It was.
7
Maya parked in the driveway of the house she’d grown up in.
It was Wednesday evening and she was beyond tired. To the point where she wasn’t even sure that she should be driving. However, she was worried that Vince might try to track her down again so she’d agreed to come here tonight.
This house had been in her mom’s family for years and was now held in a trust. It couldn’t be sold, instead it was passed from oldest child to oldest child.
Her brother would get it after her father left or died.
By rights her father should have left after her mom died, but because Maya had still been young and living at home, he’d stayed in the family home.
And now . . . well, she didn’t understand why he didn’t move out and leave so Marlin could move in. Maya wasn’t privy to Marlin’s thoughts on that, though. They weren’t close. At least, not anymore. He’d moved away a few years after mom died. He’d only come back to Billings a couple months ago.
Maisy had left as soon as she’d graduated high school to travel the world. She was the sweet one. The one everyone liked. She was beautiful and popular. But she was also kind and caring.
Their mom had had a lot of money, but most of it had been left to her father or was tied up in the trust. Maya had spent the small inheritance she’d received on her house. Maisy had spent it on traveling the world, which is how she’d met her husband, Fletch.
A wave of dizziness washed through her and she had to breathe through it. This couldn’t go on. She needed sleep.
Maya was still feeling ill as she walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. She knew better than to walk in. Her stepmother didn’t like her just barging in whenever she felt like it.
Even though this was her childhood home.
Don’t be bitter, Maya.
It’s going to turn you into someone you don’t want to be.
Water off a duck’s back. Water off a duck’s back.
She cannot hurt you.
Sure, she’d ruined the relationship that Maya had with her father. But her stepmother wasn’t entirely to blame. Her father also had a part to play in that.
And Maya knew that she felt more anger and animosity toward her father than anyone else.
He should have protected me.
He should have kept me safe.
It was his number one job. And if Maya ever had a child, she’d make sure her child was protected from everyone else. So they never suffered the trauma that Maya had.
