Page 81 of Ruthless Protector

Another lie, but how could I convince him otherwise, when he was the self-proclaimed judge and jury? The man had sentenced himself to a lifetime of guilt that couldn’t be changed in one night, with one conversation.

“Why did you leave the police force?” I asked, instead of pushing like I wanted to.

“I didn’t believe in the system anymore. Wayne had a restraining order. A piece of paper that said he had to stay away from them. A piece of paper. That’s what I believed would protect them.” He met my eyes. “I lost it after I lost them. I handed in my badge and never looked back. I’ve known Van since we were kids. He offered me a job, helped me get my head on straight.” His hands were on my thighs now, and his fingers flexed. “Gave me something to get up every morning for.”

I looked at him, this big, strong, sexy-as-sin badass, who also happened to be the nicest guy I’d ever met, and knew I had to repay him for what he’d given me. He’d given me a part of himself; a sacred, painful, private piece of himself. I felt privileged that he’d given me that, and I wanted to give it to him in return.

“You know my sister died,” I said.

He nodded.

“Well she died of an overdose. She’d been using since before she had Tilly. Amazingly, she managed to stay clean while she was pregnant, which meant staying away from my brother-in-law. But she went right back to using after she had Tils. Trent wouldn’t leave her alone. He wanted her using, wanted her dependent on him. She was in and out of rehab, but it never stuck. Trent was always there, waiting when she came out, luring her back. You think your sister and nephew dying was your fault? Well, I know my sister dying was mine.”

Jude frowned and tried to tug me closer, but I held him off. I couldn’t get through this if he was holding me. Looking into his eyes was hard enough.

“I told myself I was doing all I could for them, but I wasn’t. I had no idea that Trent was verbally abusive to her and Tilly, that they were using as much as they were. I left Rebecca and Tilly to fend for themselves, while that monster did what he did.” A hot tear surprised me, streaking down my face. “I gave up, Jude. I gave up on my sister. I can admit that. I was tired, of fighting her, of worrying. Tired of cleaning up the messes she and Trent made.” Another tear. I swiped it away. “I was too busy trying to keep Evan happy, trying to keep his parents happy, trying to hide where I came from, and who I was, to fit into a world I didn’t belong in.”

“Christ, Willa…”

“We were engaged. I thought I’d finally found someone I could trust. But when he found out I was keeping Tilly, he bailed. Like everyone else in my life. Like my dad, my mom. Leaving when the going got tough, or when the burden of looking after us, the sacrifice, got too much. I let Rebecca and Tilly down for that, for a man that never really loved me in the first place. I failed them. I could have stopped it, Jude, I could have. But I didn’t because I’d given up. I know you,” I said to him. “You would’ve moved heaven and earth for your sister, to protect her. I, on the other hand, walked away, because it got too hard.”

Saying it out loud, it sliced through me, cut deeper than ever before—and reminded me of my promise, that I owed Rebecca, and that I’d keep my promise at any cost.

To do that, I needed to make sure Trent was out of the picture, for good.

Jude’s hand curled around the back of my neck and he brought me down against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. The tears came then, tears I had been holding back since my sister died, tears I didn’t believe I deserve to shed. Jude held me while I sobbed, so tight, I knew he had no intention of letting me go until I wanted him to.

And God help me, I didn’t think I ever would.

* * *

It took some subtle questions around the club, some eavesdropping, and a bit of light bribery, but I managed to find Tomas’ apartment building in Greenwich Village. I decided approaching him at Stilettos was too risky, too many eyes and ears. Too many chances our conversation would get back to Raul or Jude.

I stared up at the brownstone. It was beautiful, not what I’d expected. I envisioned Tomas in a towering, mirror-glassed skyscraper, the penthouse suite. A crime boss residing over the city like he owned it.

My nerves revved higher as I walked up the stairs to his front door. I wanted to turn around and run the other way.

This is your only option, your only chance to get rid of Trent for good.

I knocked before I could chicken out. A few seconds later, a voice came through the intercom by the door.

“How can I help you?”

I glanced up at the camera aimed at me above the door. “I’m here to see Mr. Mendoza.”

“Is he expecting you?”

“Ah no, he’s not.” He’d probably tell me to get off his doorstep and rat me out to Raul. My palms started to sweat.

“Can I have your name, please?”

I rubbed my sweaty hands on my jeans. “Um, can you tell him Willa Hartley from Stilettos is here to see him?”

“One moment,” the voice said, and I was left cooling my heels on the front stoop. It felt like forever before the sound of the locks disengaging on the other side of the door finally came.

When it opened, an older man with gray hair, weathered skin, and bright blue eyes stood there. He was wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie. He looked like an undertaker. Apt, maybe, if what they said about Tomas was true.

“This way, please.”