Bad Behavior(57)

"You're right. I do have a few things that could leave him vulnerable."

Sal smiled, a gap appearing where one of his front teeth should have been. "What's that?"

"I have some pieces of evidence. Weapons, ledgers, notes, other documents. A pile of information that, if given to the right people, would cause a world of trouble for DiSalvo."

Sal nodded. "DiSalvo trying to fight a war on two fronts. Impossible."

Though Sal was a bruiser, he wasn't too bad at strategy, either. "Right. If I can keep him occupied elsewhere and make myself disappear, he won't have the wherewithal or the inclination to come hunting me."

He plopped down into a faded leather chair, stuffing poking out of the rips that weren't covered over with electrical tape.

"I just need to use your phone. And, since you've already busted me, maybe let me stay with Trish for a night while I get my travel plans together?"

"You got it, bella. Anything you need."

I looked at him, wanting him to leave before I made my phone call. He didn't budge, just gestured toward the phone. It was a risk, letting him overhear the details of my plan, but there was no way around it at this point. I picked up the receiver and dialed.





Chapter Twelve


LINCOLN

Wood was in a meeting with some higher-ups from the attorney general's office. I'd waited outside his door, pacing the floor, for almost two hours. I couldn't stop walking. The energy propelled my feet back and forth on the already-worn carpet in the waiting area.

Wood's secretary glanced at me every so often. I made her nervous. I didn't care.

My thoughts never strayed far from Evan. I hated to leave her after the night she'd had, the night we'd both had, but speaking to Wood was imperative if I wanted to keep her safe. He could arrange witness protection, get her out of the city, do any number of things the federal government had at its disposal.

Time moved slowly, and I continued my solitary march along the navy blue carpet. Evan would be awake by now, surely. Was she scared? I knocked the thought out of my mind. I never wanted her scared, never wanted to see the terror in her eyes or hear it in her voice the way I had last night. I should have regretted what I'd done to the men who'd taken her. I didn't. I'd do it again if it meant she would be safe.

The sound of her apologies played through my memory. The way she spoke about herself, as if she were dirty. The things she'd told me about her family. The things I'd dug up about DiSalvo and Clarence Sherman.

At first, after I realized she'd taken my most closely guarded secrets and thrown them back in my face, I let the rage run free. I started frequenting rougher parts of town. It didn't take long to find an underground fighting club. I was welcomed with open arms, fresh meat for the regulars to pummel. I took my licks and broke noses in return. Over the course of two weekends, I'd become known as the "Rebel Rager," a cheesy nickname based on my accent and my fighting style. I didn't care. I'd been called worse. All I cared about was taking out my anger on anyone who dared challenge me.

I spilled blood every chance I got, letting the rage inside have its fill before returning to my apartment and passing out for the night. The violence deadened my senses, but took my pain and made it tangible, real. I could bandage a cut, be ginger with a bruised rib, spit out the blood that ran in my mouth. The only impossible feat was treating the pain that ricocheted in my chest every time I thought of how Evan had betrayed me.



       
         
       
        

After one particularly vicious night left me with too many cuts and bruises, Jonesy came to my desk.

"Not looking so good, my friend."

"We aren't friends."

He shrugged. He had a file in his hands. The name Clarence Sherman was imprinted on the outside in stark letters.

"What's that?"

"Something you might find of interest in your current case. I told you she was more than she seems. I told her you were dangerous. Neither of you listened to me." His tone was chiding.

I wanted to knock his teeth out. My poker face was gone, washed away in the tide of my anger. He dropped the file on my desk and backed away.

"I'm only trying to help."

"I remember the last time you helped." I wished I didn't. I recalled how Evan had shown up at my apartment, ready to rip me to pieces, how instead she had slept in my arms. But her angelic appearance hid her demon. I knew that now. "Didn't turn out so well."

"Well, just give that file a look, and if you feel the same way after you've gone through it, then I understand." He sauntered off.