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But whoever was trying to fuck me over was relentless, calling in about Larson’s penchant for gambling on fights. When it didn’t get him anywhere, he started rambling off contact information for different news outlets, local and national.

If I confessed to the other fight, locking up my alibi over an hour in the opposite direction, it would be enough to buy some time until we could figure out who the rat was.

Hopefully not four years, though.

“Do you have any other suggestions?”

Costa shook his head.

“What if I waited?” I asked.

He raised a brow. “Can you really risk waiting if it lands you on their radar?”

Fuck, he was right. It was highly unlikely I was linked at this point. However, the rat had already shown he was willing to push. If I waited, it could backfire and I’d end up under investigation for a lot more than Larson.

“Normally,” Costa said, “I’m all about the ‘deny, deny, deny’. Setting up and holding onto the alibi would be fine if you only needed help with this one situation. But if you wait and wind up on their list, you’ll have cops breathing down your neck and delving into your business.Allof it. You need to get away. A vacation or business trip would just look like you’re fleeing. Confessing to the bar fight give you an alibi for last night, plus some distance from the rat. He’ll be forced to step back and strategize, which will give Luc time to find him. Or he’ll push and out himself. Either way, it’s a win.”

Except possibly losing Dahlia.

“Are you sure there are witnesses to even put you at the bar?” he asked.

“Faust looks enough like me, and was drinking in a back booth all night. There were more than enough drunks there that, when shown a picture of me and then the actual Faust, swore it was me that’d been there. Matty and Stella were working, and know to say it was me. And I have the hefty credit card bill for ‘my’ drinks.”

“Thorough. Down to the tiniest detail.” Checking the time, Costa packed up his briefcase and stood. “I’m going to go discuss the hypothetical confession of my hypothetical client with the DA. I’ll be in touch.”

I nodded, shaking his hand as he left.

Picking up a disposable phone, I fought the urge to call Dahlia. There’d been so many times when I’d open my mouth, the truth on the tip of my tongue. Secrets piled on my chest and shoulders, a burden I was used to. What I couldn’t stand was keeping them from her. I didn’t worry about her turning me in or exposing the truth.

I worried about losing her. Her leaving me if she knew who I was.

What I was.

But it was past time she knew.

If the DA offered me a good enough deal, I’d give her whatever limited time I spent away to come to terms and figure out her feelings.

After I was out, however, things would be different. No more lies. No more secrets.

And no more holding back.

Decision made, I dialed Dad’s number instead.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as the call connected.

“There’s a rat.” The word snarled from my mouth, the sound filled with the loathing I felt in my soul.

People fucking me over was nothing new.

But it coming from the inner circle? That kind of betrayal?

Thatwas personal.

“And shit is fucked up,” I finished.

“Did you call Costa?” he asked.

“Yeah, he’s on his way to meet with the DA now.”