the loose board.
He’s got his fingers wrapped around the loose edge, kneeling on the floor, bent over it like a kid opening a present on Christmas morning, when the door slams against the wall, and booted feet storm into the room.
“Freeze!”
“Hands on your head!”
“Nobody move!”
Cops swarm into the room, at least five of them. I lose count in the blur, as one of them grabs me and whisks me aside to safety. I hear the clink of handcuffs being clamped over my father’s wrists, followed by the sound of one of the other officers reading him his rights.
Dad just stares right past him, right past all of them, directly at me. I’m standing off to one side, untouched, one of the officers at my side giving me a fond pat on the shoulder.
I smile, just for Dad’s benefit. Because I’m enjoying the shocked, gut-punched look on his face right now. “You’re right, Dad,” I say conversationally, just loud enough to be heard over the officer still reciting Dad’s rights. “You did teach me a lot. I’ve learned that a job is a job, all right. And I’ve learned what kind of jobs I want to take.” At that, I reach down and raise up the hem of my shirt. Just far enough to reveal the wire taped to my stomach, and the little speaker on my side that’s been transmitting our conversation to the police waiting outside the house.
“Excellent work, I might add, Ms. Marrón,” says the officer beside me. “Was that really your first time involved in a sting like this?”
Dad grits his teeth, lets out a growl through them. “You little traitor. You’d turn on your own kin? Your own blood?” Dad spits on the ground at my feet as the officers lift him to his feet, one on each side, and begin to haul him away toward the stairs. “You won’t get away with this,” he shouts after me. “There will be a reckoning.”
“There already has been,” I reply, grinning. “The reckoning is me.”
“Thank you again for everything,” the officer is saying. “If there’s anything more you need from us, any extra protection—”
“I won’t,” I answer, confident. “Dad can’t hurt me now. But thank you.”
It’s only later, after I’ve taken off the wire and given the my statement to the police, a statement as to my father’s character, the way he constantly threatened and abused the people around him to get them to do his bidding, and the way he’d threatened me with violence at times, his own daughter, that one of the cops thinks to ask.
“The money…” he starts.
I shake my head, biting the inside of my lip to maintain the straight, sorrowful face. “I looked everywhere. Damon guessed at where he thought my father’s other men would have hidden it, but…”
“That’s all right, Ms. Marrón. You’ve given us enough. Suppose we can’t look to you to do all of our jobs,” he replies with a chuckle.
I flash another broad smile and sign a few more statements, and then, just like that, by late afternoon, I’m free to go. And not a moment too soon. Because I’ve got a meeting to make.
“How,” is all he says as he walks out of the main gate of the prison.
The smile on my face is so wide it actually hurts my cheeks. “Don’t underestimate me, Damon,” I reply.
“Never again,” he swears. And then he’s at my side, sweeping me up into his arms, his mouth colliding with mine, claiming mine, and I lose myself in his kiss. His familiar scent fills my senses, and I wrap my arms around his neck, tilt my head and part my lips to let his tongue slide between my lips, tangle with mine. I lose track of time, of space. I don’t even think about where we are until someone in the distance clears his throat sharply.
“Might I suggest you get a room? A private one, perhaps?”
We turn to find one of the prison guards watching us, a single brow raised, and we both burst into laughter.
“Don’t worry,” Damon answers, one hand looping through mine as he speaks to the guard. “We’re out of your hair now.”
“Thank God,” we hear him mutter as we turn toward my car—the only one I managed to save from Dad’s garage before the cops came and seized everything as part of his arrest warrant.
Me, I got off easy. Made a deal for a complete pardon as long as I told them everything I knew about my father