“You sure you didn’t see anyone?” Jerry asks me, for the fourth time. He’s nodding his head and trying to get me to talk. He should know I’m not going to say shit. I haven’t for the last three hours. They found the blood at the scene. They ran tests and came back with nothing. All I told them was that I was taken against my will by men with Russian accents who wanted information.

I shake my head with downcast eyes. I hate lying and putting them in this position, but I’m not going to give them anything to lead them to the Valettis. I told them I was blindfolded the entire time. I hate lying, but I need to stick with the story.

The Russian mob is in deep shit, and there’s plenty of evidence on them. But nothing against Tommy or his familia.

“Not a damn thing that could tie them there?” Jerry asks. He has a hunch it was the Valettis who came in and took the Russians out. All three of us know it was them. It makes sense. A Russian mob on their turf? It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.

“You’re fucking one of them, aren’t you?” Harrison sneers at me from across the table. I fucking hate the way he says it. I also hate that he’s right. He doesn’t buy that I was taken in order to get information on the Valettis. That’s the story I’m supposed to give the cops. That the Russians wanted intel on their routines and addresses. Everything and anything I knew about them. But it doesn't make sense that I would be left unharmed. Not unless the Valettis needed me alive. Or if I meant something to one of them.

Harrison can see right through that. I’m not a good liar. Jerry can as well, but he hasn’t said anything. I can see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Get out, Harrison.” Jerry doesn’t yell, doesn’t even turn to look at him.

Harrison clenches his fists and mutters an apology before stalking out of the room. There’s no love lost between us. As the door closes, Jerry leans forward and asks in a low soothing voice, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Concern is written all over his face.

“I’ll be alright.” I cross my arms over my chest and take a deep breath. I’m still a little shaken up. A lot shaken up maybe, but Tommy’s there waiting for me. I close my eyes and I can feel his lips kissing my neck and his arms holding me close to him. He’s my happy place. I need him, and now I have him. I'm not letting him go. I can't. He better know that.

“If you’re in any trouble, you know to come to me. Don’t you?” he asks, and I know he means it.

I nod my head. There may be times I don’t agree with him, but I know he’d help me if he could. Right now I don’t need help though. At least not from him.

“Are you sure you wanna go through with this?” He puts his hand on the table, offering it to me in a sweet gesture of comfort.

I accept and put my hand in his, and he squeezes. “I dug into you a bit after you left the conference room and found out about your sister. You may have joined for the wrong reasons, but you're a good cop. It's not too late to stay.” He emphasizes the last line. If only he knew. It’s too late for so many things.

“My mind's made up.” I pull my hand away and breathe in deep.

“As long as you know what you’re doing,” he says, leaning back in his seat.

A short laugh erupts from my lips. “I have no clue what I’m doing,” I confess. I run my hands through my hair and lean back, shaking my head. “I just want to be happy.”

“You deserve to be happy, Tonya. Don’t let him hurt you. And when the time comes, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“He’s not going to hurt me, not ever.” I don’t know when the conversation changed, but we both know who we’re talking about. I won’t say it though. I won’t name him.

“Not the way you’re thinking.” He walks to his door and locks it before shutting the shades. “What are you going to do when he gets charged with something, and it sticks?”

I shake my head, “I’ll figure it out when it happens.” My hand subconsciously goes to my belly. I jerk it away before he has time to see. I know he loves me; I know I love him. And he’ll take care of us both.

“I hope he treats you right, Tonya. I really do. But if he ever does anything, or any of them ever do anything,” he looks at me with absolute sincerity, “I’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you, Jerry.”

“Don’t thank me,” he says bluntly. “You’re asking for trouble.” I know what he means, and I understand it, I really do. But I can’t help what I want.

A sad smile plays at my lips as I say, “I’m good at that, apparently.”

He looks at me for a long moment and I don’t know what he wants from me.

“I’ll be alright, Jerry. I promise you.” I stand up and walk over to give him a quick hug.

He walks to the door and unlocks it, but before he opens it, he adds, “I just hate to see a good girl like you wind up with a man like him.” I can’t help the smile that grows on my face. He has no idea that I’m really a bad girl at heart.