Page 71 of Great White
“No, no, no sleeping on my watch. Someone will be back to check on you in a half hour.”
“Fantastic,” I gripe.
She smiles, and her eyes become thin little slits.
Fuck my life.
15
Tate
I can’t stopmy leg from bouncing under the table.
It’s been three days since I’ve seen Dove. I’m hoping a few days in jail will make her come to her senses. She doesn’t belong in here. She belongs with me. And I am going to try my hardest to make her see that. We’re running out of time, and if she doesn’t give me the information I need, her fate is in the court’s hands.
And as shiny and expensive as her lawyers are, I know they are having a tough time building a solid defense. Even if they got the charges knocked down, she is still looking at jail time. There is no way around it.
I have to convince her to flip. It’s the only way.
The door creaks open, and Dove shuffles in. She looks like complete shit. She’s pale, there are bags under her eyes, and when she sits, she winces.
I immediately look up at the guard. “What the fuck happened?”
Lopez shrugs. “Someone went after her.”
“Who?” I demand.
“Somechicana.” Lopez doesn’t give much away.
I seethe.
“It happens. Maybe she should stop walking around like she’s all high and mighty. Keep a lower profile? Three a.m. visits from DEA agents makes people suspicious.”
Dove peers up at Lopez like he’s crazy. “I don’t walk around all high and mighty, and I never told anyone about his visit.”
“People notice things,” he replies cryptically.
“I’m noticing it’s time for you to vacate the room.” Officer Lopez’s stock is dropping.
He glares at me with cold, black eyes before he steps out of the room. I can already pull his ticket. In here he’s top of the food chain. Out there, where I live, he’s a cheap lunch.
“Are you okay?” I look down at Dove.
“Minus the extra hole in my side and a concussion, I’m peachy.”
It’s killing me to know she’s hurt.
I sit down at the table across from her. She looks so defeated. I just want to hold her hand and tell her it will all be okay. If she cooperates with me. But I don’t. This meeting is pure business.
“Have you given any more thought to what I said?”
“Yes, and it’s not going to happen. I can’t flip. It’s not who I am.”
I groan in frustration. “So you’re just going to take your chances, knowing what is inevitably going to happen.”
The little wince she makes tells me she knows, and she’s not any happier about it than I am.
“What does it matter? Why are you doing this?”
