Page 55

A woman muscles into the room, her weapon trained on Bradford. She's not wearing any headgear, but otherwise her outfit is the same. "You're under arrest for money laundering."

Bradford pulls a face and laughs. "Excuse me? This is all above board."

"Hands behind your back," she demands, snatching his wrist with the money, twisting his arm behind him. He grimaces, the money fluttering from his flexing fingers, and I can't lie, I delight in his distress. It's hard not to after what he put me through.

My joy evaporates when I'm suddenly ripped off the floor and separated from Marshall. "Hey!" I gasp, my arms twisted to my spine, metal choking my wrists. My inability to stretch out and touch the only person who offered me protection creates a growing sense of foreboding. I'm supposed to be pissed at him, but in this room he's my only ally, my only source of safety. Yes, he might betray me again, but the saying goes “the Devil you know”for a reason.

He stares at me with a faint, secret smile. Then he's bound in cuffs, two cops carting him from the room on the heels of Seya and Burgh.

"Wait! Marshall! Marshall!" But he's gone. "What are you doing to me?" I ask frantically, tugging on my restraints.

"Didn't you hear?" the female cop replies coldly. "You're under arrest. All of you."

Chapter 16.

No one speaks to meduring the drive to the police station. I try a few times, but there's no response. I don't know what happened to any of the others, but I expect we're all going to the same place. When I'm carted through the front doors of the police station, pulled down a hall, then abandoned in a tiny windowless room with nothing except a tiny table and two chairs, I'm not so sure anymore.

I didn't see Marshall anywhere. I didn't see Bradford or Seya or Burgh or Min, either. Sitting there with my shoulders aching, my hands going numb in their cuffs, I feel more alone than ever.

How could he do this to me?Fear lands in my guts and compresses my chest, like someone is putting all their weight on my lungs, forcing the air out of me. This is more than sadness. This is dejection, defeat.I messed up.That's the truth of it. Just a few weeks ago I left my family home thinking I was making my way into a bright new future. A strange future, sure, one that was maybe even a bit scary, but I'd been positive it would be for the best. I'd come out on the other side transformed for the better.

And here I was.

Broken.

He broke me.

Marshall Klintock, my wicked mafia devil. He changed me from my root to my stem and I'd never be the same.He used you,I remind myself cynically. I was a pawn for his scheme. Now I was paying for his betrayal.I'm going to end up in jail, just like my brother.

The door handle jiggles. I don't lift my eyes, I'm too depressed. Footsteps shuffle across the cement floor, a shadow blotting the overhead light. "Are you okay?"

I snap my head up becausethat voicemakes no sense. "Katy?" I ask in disbelief. "What ... how are you here?"

My older sister smiles kindly at me. She's wearing faded jeans, red heels, and a dark blue jacket meant for the cold weather. Her hair is hidden under a woven red cap that covers her ears. She looks so much like her normal self that I can't make sense of it at first. I've snapped, completely lost the fucking plot, because how else could she be here? She's supposed to be on our Georgia estate. A phone call away, not an arm’s length.

"Whoa! Leona, wait, careful!" she shouts, rushing to catch me before I topple from the chair to my face on the floor. I forgot I had handcuffs on. "Jesus! Hey! Someone, come unlock these!"