Night Is Darkest Jayne Rylon (bookreader .TXT) 📖

“And I suppose you don’t know anything about the murder of her brother, Rob, who was also a police officer. Do you?” Mason slammed his hands onto the surface of the desk as he leaned on stiff braced arms to stare the criminal straight in the eye at point-blank range. He could smell a lie a million miles away.

“I did read about the incident in the paper a couple days back. A tragedy, I’m sure.” The slick retort flipped off his tongue too fast to be natural. He’d practiced the response to the obvious question but he had no preparation for the next attack.

“Then tell us… What do you know of a brunette about five-seven, one-forty, who tried to drug Lacey into running off the road and killing herself?” Mason described the grainy likeness Jeremy had sifted from the hospital surveillance cameras.

Jackson’s pupils dilated. He didn’t flinch or gasp but sweat beaded on his forehead. He had to clear his throat to continue. His scrunched eyes flicked to Mason for the first time. “That’s fucked-up. I sure as shit didn’t do it.”

At least that much was true.

“No, but I think you have an idea who did. I can see the pulse hammering in your throat. You’re one slimy bastard, playing it cool like this, but you fucking know. And you better come clean now or the Board isn’t going to look very favorably on your parole hearing when we figure out how you’re involved.” Mason’s voice dropped to a menacing hiss. “I promise you I will find out. No one hurts Lacey and gets away with it. One of my best friends is dead. A cop. How long do you think you’ll rot in maximum security before you die?”

“Son of a bitch! Fine.” Jackson shoved back in his chair with alarming speed then crossed his arms over his chest. He’d lost weight in jail. His physique had gotten chiseled, too. “I have an idea.”

“Who?” Mason skimmed close to the edge of his patience.

“The fucking bitch who started all this in the first goddamn place. Look, I never meant to hurt you.” When his chocolate eyes pleaded with hers, Lacey saw something in them that had drawn her to the creep in the first place. A spark of need that matched the yearning she’d lived with most of her adult life.

Loneliness she understood.

“It was her idea. She told me to find a girl. She wanted pictures, an offering, proof of my devotion, before she’d fuck me again. She’d tested me before but each time it got worse. I wasn’t myself. I was on drugs. She got me hooked then kept giving me more. Kept demanding more.”

His gaze stayed locked on Lacey’s as though he begged for absolution.

“Who?” Tyler echoed Mason’s earlier question.

“The love of my miserable life.” He wiped his knuckles over his mouth. “Gina Stephanos.”

“No!” The room spun as though Lacey rode a wild rollercoaster. Tyler put a steadying hand on her elbow. She took several calming breaths. Her vision distorted but, when she reopened her eyes, she could have sworn she read truth in his expression. “Rob’s girlfriend? Why would she do that?”

“She’s mine, goddamn it!” Jackson bolted from his chair so fast it went flying behind him. “Your goody-two-shoes brother didn’t know enough to keep his hands off my fucking property! He didn’t earn her like I did. She belongs to me.”

In an instant, three guards stormed the room. Ty and Mason hauled her to the corner of the cinderblock walls opposite the fracas then boxed her in behind their defensive postures. The jailers subdued the crazy bastard then stayed, standing guard, over his panting form.

“You had my brother killed because he fell in love with Gina?” Lacey hated the way her voice cracked.

Jackson spit at her. The wad of phlegm splattered on the industrial concrete several feet short of where she peeked between Mason and Ty’s puffed-up chests. “Your dumbass brother got himself killed because he trusted a monster. Just like his moronic sister. Then he tried to steal what was mine! If I can’t have her, no one can.”

“You mean you tried to get Rob to help you? Why would he trust you?” She attempted to shove the guys aside but she would have had more luck budging the walls.

Demented laughter ricocheted around the tiny space. Jackson resumed his struggles, tossing off one of the brutes restraining him.

“I’ve heard enough. We’re getting out of here.” Mason interrupted her line of sight when he positioned her between his and Tyler’s hard bodies.

They’d reached the door when Jackson bellowed, “So I guess you won’t testify for my release either, will you, bitch?”

The buzzer guaranteed the thick steel latched behind them. Lingering curses, scuffles and deranged cachinnations penetrated the divider.

Lacey stood reeling in the hall. The guys ushered her toward the front door, pausing long enough to collect their weapons at the desk before escaping into the clean night.

They piled into Mason’s truck. Only when they’d reached the road, in silence, did she start to cry.

Mason thanked God for Tyler. When rage had threatened to obliterate every shred of control he possessed in favor of pure violence, which would have dragged him into the murk where that lowlife Jackson dwelled, Ty had kept him sane.

He shuddered as he thought about the diamond fall of tears that had leaked from Lacey’s distant eyes in absolute silence. Ty had gathered her close. He’d rocked her while he sang line after line of heartfelt lyrics that expressed emotions Mason could never have put into words. The melodious comfort had eased the knot of fury in his gut and lulled Lacey to a fitful doze. Each time Ty had paused, she stirred.

The glowing gauges and the occasional headlights from oncoming cars had illuminated the tender intimacy his lovers shared. Mason’s pulse raced each time he caught a glimpse of them curled around each other, Ty’s lips brushing her hair or her fingers balled in