Page 50 of Darkness
So he said, “I’m okay with it. Not as a cop. Maybe not as his son. But as a man? Away from all the rest of it? I think I understand why you did it, and even if I don’t understand, I’m willing to let it go. I’mableto let it go.”
She narrowed her eyes into suspicious slits. “That’s big of you. I mean, I’m not saying I didshit, but if I had? I wouldn’t be looking for your forgiveness. You don’t mean a goddamn thing to me.”
And, yes, that was about where he should have expected the conversation to go. And maybe she was right—maybe his forgiveness and understanding was more about his own ego than anything else. But he didn’t think that mattered, right then. He’d said his piece, cleared the air, and it was time to move on. “We need to make sure we understand each other,” he said, and she just stared at him, waiting for the next shoe to drop.
“The easiest thing would be for me to walk away,” he continued, and for a moment that option opened before him like a beautiful paradise, a world of calm and simplicity and peace. But then he felt the claws closing around his ankles, not scratching him—not yet—but pulling him back. Tugging, then yanking, increasingly insistent, increasingly desperate. Nikki, Elijah, Nicolette, Kayla, the sheriff’s office, law enforcement as a whole.
It was strange to realize the one factor that wasn’t tugging at him. It wasn’t pulling because it didn’t need to. Wherever he went, for the rest of his life, one element would always be with him, just as it always had been. And Jericho was fine with it. Wade was his, and he was Wade’s, and the world wasn’t allowed to get in the way of that ever again.
So he said, “Yeah, it would be easiest to leave. But I’m not going to, at least not right now.” Not alone. “So you and I are still going to be in contact, and I want you to understand what I’m saying about Eli’s death.” He waited until she frowned at him, then he said, “I’m ready to believe he got what he deserved. Probably he deserved it a hell of a lot earlier than he got it. And I don’t want his kids to suffer because they had a shitty father—not any more than they already have.” Not any more thanhealready had, but he wasn’t going to bring that up in front of Nikki. “So they need their mom, and they need her not in jail. You understand what I’m saying?”
She glared over his shoulder. “So you’re not going to turn me in? Is that all this has been about?”
“For Eli’s murder? No, I’m not going to tell anyone what I think happened. I’m going to let that go.” He leaned in, tried to catch her eyes, then gave up and spoke to her stubborn, jutted-out chin. “But for all the rest of this shit? Running drugs for Wade, or whatever the hell else you’re doing? That’s onyou, Nikki. I’ll do what I can to protect you from anything related to Eli. But, no, I can’t and I fuckingwon’tcover for the rest of your shit. If you want to run drugs because you think it’s better than waiting tables? That’s not because of Eli, that’s because ofyou, your mistake, and I’m not going to do a goddamn thing to keep you from feeling the consequences.”
“So what’s the point of all this, then?” she demanded.
“The point is you have two kids. I’m honestly not crazy about either of them, but they’re my blood, and that seems to mean something to me. If you go to jail, they’re fucked, and I don’t care what line of goods Wade has sold you about taking care of them—Wade isn’t suited to raise a goat, let alone a human child. I know, he can control them, but—” But what? Should Jericho get Freudian and start babbling about Wade raising the kids with pure Id? Letting the kids stay uncontrolled and vicious. No, that wouldn’t go over well. “Wade is a short-term solution, if that.You’rethe long-term solution, and for that to work, you need to keep your ass out of jail.”
Her expression didn’t change. “You think I’m a shitty mother. The only reason you think I’d be better than Wade is some sexist bullshit about ovaries or something. You think any woman, even one you can’t stand, would raise kids better than any man.”
“No,” he said, and he was pretty sure he meant it. “I think—I mean, I know it doesn’t matter what I think, but since you brought it up—I think they could do with a little discipline, yeah. A bit of structure to their lives. Maybe a vegetable or two that doesn’t come with cheese and a crispy crust. But overall? You love them, Nikki, and you’re doing what you have to in order to protect them. I get that, and I respect it.”
“But?” she spat, the word sharp and hard as a fragment of glass.
“But you’re set up to go to jail. You’re doing Wade’s dirty work for him, and the feds are all over him, looking for weaknesses, and they’re going to find you. So, the past? I’ll do what I can to protect you from the past. But everything from— No, not everything from here on. Everything fromthat dayon, everything from the day you pushed Eli over the damn cliff and watched him fall? That’s on you, and I won’t do a thing to protect you from any of it.”
“I never asked you to,” she growled.
“Bullshit. You dragged me back here to cover for you while you shopped that thumb drive around, you get me to babysit when actually I’m just giving you a cover story for whatever smuggling bullshit you’re up to—don’t tell me you haven’t asked me to protect you.”
Her smile was pure bravado, a façade of bravery when they both knew there was no substance beneath it. “So?” she demanded. “What’s changing?”
“Maybe nothing.” Yeah, he was too tired for all this. “I just—I wanted things to be clear between us. I wanted you to know what I was thinking.”
“Because your thoughts aresovaluable to the world,” she said. “Fine. Now I know all about them. But if you don’t have anything more important to talk about—” She stopped as if she was catching herself. Maybe remembering her larger strategy and all the ways it could be useful to have an under-sheriff on her side. Or maybe—just maybe—thinking of the ways it might be good to have a brother on her kids’ side. “The kids are starting school next week. And Elijah still hasn’t seen his snakes. You got a plan for that?”
“Not really,” he confessed.
“Well, maybe you’d better get one.”
He probably should. Hell, maybe he’d ask Wade for help. Maybe the two of them wouldn’t run away to the beach together; maybe they’d take two feral children on a snake-hunting expedition instead.
“I’ll figure something out,” he promised. And he meant it. If he and Wade were working together? Hell, yeah. They’d make it work. Jericho would settle for nothing less.
