Page 132 of Vicious Behaviors

He’s too afraid to even ask to see my badge, which is a good thing since I have it stashed away in a shoe box in my apartment. The steel in my voice is enough to prevent him from even demanding such a thing. Good, since I’m not in the mood to take shit from anyone right now, let alone a fucking beat cop whose only job was to hold the perimeter.

“Now, are you going to let us through, or do I have to make you?”

He nods, sputtering for breath when I move the baton away from his throat. I don’t wait for him to say anything else, grabbing Mina’s hand and pulling her to follow me.

“Quick thinking there, luv. You almost had me convinced that you really were a Fed.”

I don’t reply and hurry toward the gym instead. I’m halfway there when I stop cold in my tracks as I see none other than Haynes walk out the door with Marcello in tow, his wrists handcuffed behind his back.

“Don’t tell them anything, Marcello,” Jude shouts from behind them, pulling my attention to the familiar womanwearing a dark blue windbreaker bearing the letters FBI across the chest. It’s Theresa, one of the first clients I enrolled in the gym, and she’s now helping Haynes escort Marcello to a nearby SUV. “They can’t make you say anything without a lawyer present.”

“I’m already on the phone with Giovanni,” Carmine howls at Jude’s side, phone already pressed to his ear. “It will all be alright, son. It will all be alright.”

Haynes laughs at that while placing his hand on Marcello’s head to push him down into the car. And that’s when Marcello’s eyes lock with mine. His blue orbs are a pit of despair and sadness.

“Jude,” he calls out to his brother before Haynes is able to shove him inside the car. “Tell Gio it wasn’t hubris that got me in the end. It was love.”

Haynes slams the car door before the SUV drives off with the love of my life in it. The sight has me running toward Haynes, so I tap him on his shoulder to turn around, just in time to meet my fist hitting him square in the jaw.

“You son of a bitch!” I shout, just as fucking Theresa and another agent jump to attention and hold me back by the arms, preventing me from having another swing at him. “You’re going to pay for this, Haynes!”

“No,” he smirks, rubbing at his chin. “I believe the only one who will pay for this is you.” I struggle to break free while his sardonic smile mocks me. “Did you honestly believe that I would let you get away with tarnishing my name and reputation in the Bureau? That I would just turn a blind eye to what you’ve been up to?”

“Fuck you, Haynes! This is a gross use of power. You have nothing on Marcello! Nothing!”

“Wrong again, Agent Graham. I have everything. And thanks to you, I have all the proof I need to ensure you’ll never work a day in the force again.”

I spit in his face, to which the fucker charges at me, his hand already primed to wrap around my neck. He only steps back when he realizes the audience around us.

“Get her the fuck out of here,” he orders. “And don’t even try coming to the field office to help your boyfriend. I’d be more worried about you than him right now. You aren’t the only one who can make accusations to Director Roderick, bitch. Unlike you, I have photographic evidence to back up mine. Before the day is through, you won’t even be able to fucking work at McDonald’s.”

I’m pushed back as Haynes and the other agents get in their respective cars and drive off. Only when they leave do I turn around and face Marcello’s family.

“You’re a fucking Fed?” Mina asks in disbelief, while Carmine looks like the world just turned on its head with the revelation. The only one who doesn’t look surprised is Jude.

“She is.” He nods and walks toward me, placing his hands on my forearms to keep me steady since I can’t stop shaking. “And she’s also Marcello’s girlfriend. Right?”

I nod, feeling the sting of hot, angry tears at the corner of my eyes.

“Good. Now that we have that settled, how are we going to get Marcello out of this mess?”

I swallow dryly before staring straight into Jude’s eyes and saying, “I can only think of one thing.”

“Yeah. Me too. We need to talk to my father,” he says, deflated, only to frown when I shake my head.

“We’ll need Vincent, yes, but we need a little divine intervention, too.” Jude’s forehead creases in confusion at my vague remark.

“I’m not sure God can help us in this situation, Izzie.”

“Not God. But someone closer to home just might.”

“Did you really have to hit her that hard?” Annamaria says as I sit on a couch in Vincent’s office, inside the same mansion that welcomed me with open arms less than twenty-four hours ago.

“She’s lucky all I did was punch her.” Stella looks coldly at me, while Frankie offers me an ice pack to place on my jaw.

“Don’t be mad at Izzie, Stella. This isn’t her doing,” her mother interjects in my defense, looking worse for wear.

“Marcello being interrogated by some small-dick jerk with a badge might not be all Izzie’s fault, but lying to us is,” Stella accuses, still obviously angry at me for deceiving her all this time.