knee. One of Guapo’s men broke it,” she said.
He closed his eyes in horror. “God, Linda. I wouldn’t blame you for wishing me dead. A whole lot of lives would be better off if I wasn’t around. Everyone knows that.”
“Not everyone. Not me. And Mattie would never say that. Not in a million years.”
He didn’t argue with her. She was right, after all. His sister had stuck by him and though she’d tried to talk him out of coming back to Sacramento, in the end she’d continued to stick by him. If he needed her—correction, if he asked for help from her—she’d be by his side in a second. And that’s why he couldn’t ask for her help.
“Mattie left me a letter telling me about WITSEC.” When he said nothing, she gave an exasperated sign. “I know you can’t tell me where they are. Or maybe you don’t even know. But she was my best friend. Do you know if they’re okay?”
He shifted to sit up, and a wave of pain hit him with the strength of one of California’s northern coastal waves. Again he could barely stop himself from asking for drugs. From begging Linda to get them for him. But he forced himself to take several deep breaths until the urge passed. Still, she frowned as her gaze swept over him, as if she was trying to assess what part of his body was troubling him the most.
This wasn’t good. The fact that she’d told him about her knee injury and had even asked about Mattie was reminding him all too well of how easy it had always been to talk to her. He’d revealed things to her that he’d never told anyone else, some things that he’d been deeply ashamed of. And he’d always felt safe doing so. Until she’d left him.
“Small talk, Linda?” he said finally, knowing he’d get a rise out of her. Knowing she’d be diverted enough to at least not ask about his level of pain.
“So you won’t even tell me Mattie and Jordan are safe?”
“The answer is, I don’t know. Where they are or how they are.” Only half of that statement was a lie. He didn’t know where they were, but he had no doubt they were safe. Dominic Jeffries, Mattie’s husband, would make sure of that.
For months, they’d all been in WITSEC together—Dom, Tony, Mattie, and Jordan. But one of the conditions of him returning to Sacramento was that Dom move them again. And not tell Tony where they went. Just in case. “And it has to stay that way.”
“Even though Guapo’s dead now?”
God, he wished it wasn’t so. “Guapo has plenty of men who are willing to do his dirty work for him. That’s going to be especially true now that his drug business is up for grabs.”
“But it’s not up for grabs now, is it? You’ve apparently taken it over.”
“So long as I’m in jail, there’ll be plenty of contenders. But taking over his game? Yes, it was the plan all along, babe.”
“Since when?”
He stared at her though hooded eyes. “Since you and I both accepted what I truly am.”
“I never accepted that you were a bad man or a criminal, Tony. Just because you make mistakes doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. I just couldn’t be with you. You know why. You know what you are.”
As if unable to keep still any longer, she stood and paced beside his bed. He watched her with his heart in his throat. Her long-limbed stride was beautiful. Graceful. Agitated.
She suddenly halted and placed her hands on her hips. “Why?”
He dragged his gaze from her hips to her face. “Why what?”
“Why are you trying so hard to convince me you’re a bad guy? Why did you confess to murdering Guapo? Given our history, given how susceptible I’ve always been where you’re concerned, why aren’t you trying to play me? To gain some leniency? It’s what most people would do in your situation.”
He forced himself to smirk. “I hear the rumors. I know how hard you’re working to be a judge. To get the respectability you’ve always wanted. Maybe I just don’t want to ruin that for you. Or maybe throwing me out of your life finally proved to me how unsusceptible to me you really are.”
“Stop trying to make me feel guilty for that, damn it. It wasn’t what I wanted. But you gave me no choice.”
He scowled and before he could stop himself, he spoke from his heart rather than from his