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He studied my reaction. “Fifty per hour.”

“Fine. You’re the only one who didn’t kick me out of their office today.”

“I bet. For now, I recommend you go home and lie low. If you’re not working, that shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“Right.” I stood and looked down at him as he sat behind his expensive mahogany desk. “I’ll call you when I learn something new.”

“See my receptionist out front to put down a retainer.”

“Ten grand work?”

His eyes widened. “I thought you said you weren’t involved in this smuggling operation?”

“I was in the past, but I’m not anymore. Don’t you listen? This is my life we’re talking about here.”

He shrugged. “You unloaded a lot of information for a first meeting,” he said, rubbing his moustache.

I headed to the door of his office, ready to pay and prepare for whatever awaited me next. Between the feds, Melvin, Rose, and everyone else, there was no telling what would happen, but I wanted to be ready.

After swiping my Visa Black Card in the lobby of his office in a rubdown strip mall, I headed to catch the Staten Island Ferry back to the city.

CHAPTER 36

Warren

I headed straight to her apartment, still hoping I could talk her out of doing the story. If the feds tried to stop me, they could talk to my attorney.

During my trip to her place, I replayed things in my head. I had thought it best for her to trash the story, but maybe I was wrong now that I finally understood her point-of-view.

Once I admitted to myself she was right, it all made sense. The story going public would direct a lot of attention toward us and consequently provide some level of protection. At most, it would keep us from disappearing into a holding cell in some bunker unnoticed.

By the time I reached her building, I had my mind made up. The feds could fuck themselves for all I cared. I had served my country and I deserved my freedom of speech.

I knew I would likely end up prosecuted or losing my military pension, but as long as I had Rose by my side, nothing else mattered.

I walked straight up to the front door of her building and pressed the buzzer for her apartment.

“Yes?”

“It’s me,” I said.

“What are you doing here?”

The door buzzed and clicked. I opened it and went inside. On the way up to her floor in the elevator, I thought again about my decision to be honest with her about what I’d been a part of during my time serving in Afghanistan.

My mind and my heart battled the whole way up. When I stepped out of the elevator, doubts hit me hard.

Was I making yet another mistake?

I pushed the self-doubt aside and made my way to her apartment. A concerned look on her face, she stood in the doorway, waiting as I approached.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, stepping back into her apartment.

“We’ve got to talk. I don’t like the way our last conversation ended.” I walked in and closed the door behind me.

“Me either,” she said.

“Wow. You’ve really been working.” I glanced at all the papers scattered around her living room.