Page 4 of Bitter Truth
He turns his glare to her. “Doing my job. Which, believe it or not, includes more than being a full-time babysitter for this one.”
My mouth drops open. The only time the man couldbe accused of keeping an eye on me is when I tried breaking up with his son back when we were in high school, and then it was only to make sure his threats had done their job and I stayed in the relationship until his son was through with me. Jake must notice my hands curling into fists because he tightens his arm around me.
“That might be so,” Agent Gellar says, “but are we really supposed to believe that there were so many calls in your tiny town that you couldn’t dispatch a single officer for”—she makes a show of checking her watch—“over two hours?”
Kingston shrugs, not even having the good grace to look ashamed.
“Are we done here?” I ask, having neither the energy nor the patience to prolong my suffering a moment longer than I have to.
“We are.” Agent Gellar gives me a curt nod.
Trusting me to behave myself for the ten seconds it will take us to get inside, Jake releases his hold on me and opens the door.
“Goodnight, Agent Knox,” Agent Gellar says as I’m stepping over the threshold. “And, Cassidy? Good luck.”
I wave over my shoulder, not trusting my expression right now—or my voice. Because the way she said those parting words? It suggests that I’m going to need them. And honestly, I’m afraid she might be right.
CHAPTER 3
My hands shake. My chest is tight. And as I turn the deadbolt, I startle at the click because there’s something almost ominous about the sound.
But at the same time, there’s no denying the relief I feel at finally finding myself behind a locked door.
Out there, I have to be strong. Brave. Swallow my fear.
In here? I can crumble.
“Cassie.” Jake’s voice breaks over my name.
Turning to face him, I practically throw myself into his embrace. Bury my face in his chest as his arms tighten around me. Squeeze my eyes shut against the invading tears as he rests his chin against my head.
He holds me silently while my pulse slows. As my breath comes easier. Until the tension that had turned my muscles into stone eases.
“Cassie,” he says again, whispering this time. “That was too close.”
I nod against him, swallowing hard.
“I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“Maybe… maybe you should reconsider testifying.”
I lean back until I can see his face, but he won’t meet my eyes.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“But you could. They have Bianchi’s fingerprints on the murder weapon. Pictures of the crime. My mom’s confession. The prosecutor can get a conviction without you taking the stand.”
“Exactly.”
“Then why do it? I understand getting justice for your parents, but it’s not worth the risk.”
“I agree.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do. Do you think I like being shot at?” I ask hoarsely, almost choking on the lump in my throat.
