Damien’s heart hammered in his chest. George Davenport took a hit out on my sister. Mia’s face swam before him and he focused on the cop to block it out. “I need proof.”
“Ask your girl about it. She’s his daughter, she should know.”
“They were estranged.”
Rick leaned back in his chair. “Then I guess you’ll have to take my word for it.”
“Who’s your source?”
“You know I can’t tell you. I’m already risking my neck just being here.”
Damien’s head was spinning. For years, he’d been living with the guilt of his sister’s death. Trying to come up with some proof it wasn’t an accident. Some way to stick it to Marcelo and get the hell out of the cartel.
When Mia had landed in his arms, he thought she’d be the key. But never like this.
If his sister was an informant…If the DA had her murdered…Everything changed.
He wished the asshole were still alive so he could be the one to riddle his chest with bullets. If what Rick said was true, then Mia’s father wasn’t just a son of a bitch who ignored his daughter and did deals with the devil. He was a murderer.
If Mia found out…The knowledge would destroy her. He glanced up at the cop’s stoic face. “Do you know who did the hit?”
Rick shook his head.
Didn’t matter. Damien would find the bastard who pumped her full of those drugs and he would make him pay.
He clenched his fists under the table. He didn’t need to run from Marcelo anymore. He needed revenge. Then he and Mia could be free. “Thanks, Rick. I owe you one.”
“Why don’t I like the sound of that?”
Damien didn’t answer. He was done talking. Someone out there killed the only person in the world who loved him and Damien was going to make him pay for it.
17
MIA
Three weeks of living out of motels and a stolen car had taken their toll. She walked through the mall in a daze. It had been so long since she had done something normal, she had almost forgotten how.
People milled around the shops on their lunch breaks. Women in suits, men on break, and moms chasing toddling little ones were everywhere. Not a single one could claim to be a criminal.
A fugitive.
Mia slowed and leaned against the railing. A month ago, she’d never have stepped foot in a place like this. Without a high-end store to burn through her father’s money, what was the point?
This mall had it all, though. She looked up at the pharmacy looming in front of her and a sign next door caught her eye.
Hastings Police Substation. What? A tremble rushed through her. The police.
Her feet moved toward the bulletin board outside the tiny office on autopilot. Mug shots. All of the area’s most wanted, stapled up to the wall for anyone to see. She couldn’t be up there, could she?
She let her hair fall across her face as she stopped in front of the board.
Oh my God. They used my law school job photo.
Mia swallowed as she stared at the grainy black and white version of her with her hair pulled back in a low ponytail, black suit jacket on. Wanted For Questioning. REWARD.
She pulled her hair forward even more to hide her face.
This can’t be happening.
When Damien said she would be a fugitive…When he told her there was no going back to life before…It hadn’t sunk in. Not until now.
She could be arrested. Thrown in jail. Her eyes scanned the board until she spotted his face. Oh, no.
He was younger. Longer hair and fewer tattoos, but it was Damien. He had the same haunted look in his eyes. Mia took a deep breath and read the caption. She expected First Degree Murder. But it only mentioned questioning, same as her own.
She reached out to touch his picture, but stopped halfway. If anyone saw him in the mall…
Mia whipped around. If anyone recognized either of them…
The sign to the drug store caught her eye. She needed to get away from the police as fast as possible. Rushing into the store, she ducked her head and focused on the floor.
What could she do to hide? Sunglasses and a hat. She could dye her hair.
Mia rushed through the store, looking for everything she would need when familiar labels caught her eye. She paused and stared at the rows of tampons.
She counted.
Then counted again.
The bright blue boxes stood all in a row, accusing her. Mia turned back around. It can’t be. I’ve just got my dates wrong.
She looked to the end of the aisle. The part of the store she had always hurried by in the past. Pregnancy tests.
They hadn’t been using protection. She knew it was stupid, but the first time…She thought she was going to die. The second, she was so thankful to be alive.
After that, she had no one to blame but herself. Damien had asked more than once. She blew him off.