I jump when Vincent wrenches open the driver’s door and slams it shut behind him. He grips the wheel, breathing like a bull ready to charge.

“Are…are you okay?”

He shakes his head. It’s a stiff, minimal head movement. His knuckles are white, his jaw muscles going to town as he smashes his teeth together.

“He’s innocent, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Vincent growls, firing up the engine and speeding out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires.

We tear away from the prison like we’re trying to outrun a tidal wave.

Vincent swerves around the next corner and I’m thrown into the passenger door.

I can’t help a small gasp and he immediately slows down.

His expression crumples with a pained apology as he starts to pull the car to the side of the road. It’s a lonely country lane—the only route into the prison. There’s barely space to pull over.

“There’s a rest stop just past the intersection. Do you remember?”

He nods and accelerates forward, but much slower this time.

We putter down the road and through the intersection before pulling into a quiet spot that looks over a small gorge.

The car hiccups to a stop and then we’re drenched in this stony silence that I’m trying to work out how to break. I’m worried if I ask too many questions, it will shatter like glass.

But Nick’s innocent! I mean, I know it’s just his word, but Vincent believes him, which means I do too.

Licking my bottom lip, I unlatch my seat belt and turn to face him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, reaching for his hand and tracing a slow pattern with my thumb. “It’s not fair.”

My touch seems to calm him, so I keep holding his hand even though he’s not talking.

“Does he know who did it?”

Vincent shakes his head. “He doesn’t want me finding out either.”

“Why not?”

“He seemed scared.” Vincent’s dark eyebrows dip together. “Said he was staying silent for me. I don’t understand that.”

“Maybe someone’s threatening him. Or you. Maybe he’s had some kind of warning that if he appeals, bad things could happen.”

Vincent’s eyes flick to mine. “He told me to stay away from it. He’s probably right.”

“Yeah, probably.” I tip my head. “But I don’t think we should.”

“Of course you don’t,” he scoffs, wrenching his hand out of mine and tipping his head to the roof.

I gaze at his tormented profile, my heart breaking and opening up at the same time. “Do you really want to let this lie? That’s not who you are. You’ll put up with injustice against yourself, but you’d never take it for someone you care about. You’re a warrior. You put your life on the line to protect others.”

“I’m not a warrior.”

“Yes, you are.” My voice is strong and adamant.

“I can’t fix this, Chloe!”

“Yes, we can!”

“We?” He scowls at me. “And how am I supposed to protect you through all of this? If Nick doesn’t want me getting hurt, I sure as shit don’t want you to!”

I smile, his words warming me even though they’re being yelled.

Reaching for his face, I comb my fingers through his short black hair. “I know this seems huge and scary and dangerous.”

“Because it is.” He works his jaw to the side.

“I know, but we can be careful. We can look into things without people even knowing. All we need is a starting point and then slowly we can uncover some evidence. We just need enough to set Nick free. Once we have it, I can take it straight to my dad. Then he can protect us.” Vincent opens his mouth to argue, but I speak over him. “My dad might not understand that I’m crushing on you big-time, but he hates injustice as much as I do. He’ll help us.”

Vincent’s eyes flick to mine, and very slowly his puffing breaths ease. Finally, the edges of his lips curl at the corners. “We can’t go to him without something decent.”

“Well, what do we have?”

Vincent taps the wheel with his finger. “Nick was doing some work on the side, trying to earn some money so he could send me to college.” He lets out a pained sigh, his jaw clenching as he tries to rein in whatever emotion he’s fighting. “He never told me about it, but I think he was working for some guy in Brazenwood.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because he just told me he was supposed to pick up a car and deliver it to a chop shop there.”

“So he was stealing cars?”

Vincent nods, then cringes and scrapes a hand through his hair.

“Do you know their names?”

“No, he wouldn’t say. If it’s the Mendez brothers, they’re complete assholes. Maybe that’s why he’s scared. Maybe they’ve threatened to come after me or something.” He frowns and shakes his head. “But they wouldn’t take on a Mancini. They’re not completely insane.”

“So, if it’s not them, who could it be?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Vincent cups the back of his head. “I don’t know.”

Curling my fingers around his neck, I give it a little massage, hoping to relax him. “Are there any other crime syndicates in that area?”

He swallows and slowly opens his eyes. “Not that I know of. Enzo doesn’t like us going into Brazenwood. He knows better than to start some kind of war with the Mendez brothers.”

“Okay.” I bulge my eyes, finding this conversation kind of heavy. “So, what happened that night? Nick went to pick up a car and…”

Vincent keeps rubbing his forehead, his face puckering. “He said he got a text to go collect and deliver this car, but when he got there McCrae was already dead inside. The cops showed up. Saw the body. Saw Nick standing there and arrested him on the spot. Assumed it was a carjacking.”

“But what proof did they have? They can’t convict him for standing beside a dead body.”

“They found a gun with his fingerprints all over it. Ballistics matched the bullet to the gun.”

“And where was the gun?”

“On the floor of the car he was supposed to be stealing.”

My lips part. Damn, that evidence is really compelling. It takes me a moment to find my voice as I will myself to not waver on my conviction. Nick told his little brother he was innocent. We have to believe him.

“Okay, so someone could have easily stolen his gun, used it and then planted it in McCrae’s car, right?”

Vincent nods.

“It sounds to me like he was set up by his boss.”

“Yeah, but we don’t know who the hell that is. Nick refused to say, and he looked scared when I pressed him on it.”

“Well someone else must know. What about his lawyer?”

Vincent scoffs. “That idiot won’t help. No one’s going to talk to us.”

I purse my lips, staring out the car window while I think about my dad and what he goes through when investigating something. There are always reports and those little notebooks they write in. That’s all evidence and permissible in court.

“There have to be notebooks from the night Nick was arrested. Records. Statements. Maybe I can ask Dad to look into it for me.”

Vincent gives me an incredulous look. “And when he asks why you want to know that stuff? What are you going to tell him then? That you’re helping a Mancini?”

“Stop saying your last name like it’s a curse word,” I scold him. I hate the way he does that. It just fuels his own belief that his bloodline makes him automatically bad.

He huffs and clenches his jaw again. The way he’s going, his teeth will be buried back inside gums soon.

“Okay, fine, you don’t want to involve my dad. Do you remember who the arresting officer was? The detective who investigated this case? Maybe we can talk to them.”

Vincent worries his lip, still staring out the window like he doesn’t want to look at me.

“I just want to help,” I whisper. “Please let me.”

Glancing my way, a soft smile curves the edge of his mouth as he reaches for my hand and starts playing with my fingers.

“There wasn’t a detective, just the chief of police.”

“The chief of police?” My nose wrinkles. “That’s weird. They don’t usually conduct investigations.”

Vincent shrugs. “He was the guy who arrested Nick that night, so he took the case.”

“Okay.” I shake my head, still finding it a bit strange.

“He retired early, after Nick was convicted. Got seriously ill and left town.”

“Do you remember his name?”

“Scott Tannon. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” I smile, pulling out my phone and getting to work.

As weird as it might sound, this whole thing is kind of thrilling. If we can talk to this guy, find out some answers, dig out the real truth, it’s going to open up a whole big book of secrets.

A book that might set Nick Mancini free.