Page 11 of Man of Honor
The tension was so thick I could barely breathe.
Dominic’s jaw clenched, and for the briefest second, I thought I caught a flash of guilt cross his face.But then it was gone, buried under an armor of cool indifference.Without a word, he turned and walked away.
Didn’t look back even once.
I watched him go and then looked up atGideon.He hadn’t moved, watching expressionlessly until the front door closed behindDominic.Finally, he cut his eyes down tome.There wasno judgment in his gaze, but it felt like he saw through all my bullshit in a singleglance.
“Later,” he said simply.
Then he was gone. I let out a breath, rubbing the goosebumps off the back of myneck.“Scary motherfuckers,” I muttered under mybreath.
Whatever was brewing between them, I didn’t want to be in the middle ofit...but something told me I wouldn’t get achoice.
Chapter Five
WYATT
The first timeI set foot on Beaufort property, I was already grown, but I'd heard the gossip all my life.Eden was legendary in Devil’s Garden, not just for the historic architecture and ghost stories, but for the wild bunch of boys who’d raised hell there.
Wealthy families like the Beauforts and Vanderhoffs weren't part of my world growing up, so I'd only ever caught glimpses of the property from a distance.I was raised smaller and humbler, the first cop in a long line of dirt-poor crawdad farmers.Built on love, not money and violence like the Beaufort boys.They were hard cases, and over the years, every cop in Devil's Garden was in and out of the house so much we'd memorized the floorplan.
Things settled down a little after Gage skipped town, and even more after Gideon took over running the house.The guy put the fear of God into everyone.Literally.
With any luck, he could do something for the half-feral girl I was bringing him now.
Ivy was curled up in my passenger seat, huddled as close to the door as she could get without tumbling out.She was a tiny thing.Too small for seventeen, and pale enough that she’d probably disappear if I stood her against a wall.She hadn’t said more than a few words since I’d picked her up from the hospital, but her eyes never stopped moving.Scared, yeah, but mean, too. The world had taught her that being mean was the only way to survive.
I’d seen plenty of kids with that look.It came with the job, but every year it seemed like there were more.Drugs and gangs had taken root in Devil’s Garden, filling hospitals and morgues at a record pace, and as usual, kids were the ones who suffered the most.The good cops couldn't keep up, and the dirty ones grew fat and rich off the suffering.Drug runners moved their product through the bayou in the dark of night like a swarm of cockroaches.Catching them felt like playing a giant game of whack-a-mole, especially when the DA dropped more cases than he prosecuted.
Ivy was probably just another instance of wrong place, wrong time, but whenever I looked at her, I felt a sense of deep unease.Maybe because she reminded me of Gage when he was a child.Too tough for her own good but hollowed out on the inside.Always looking for something to fill her up, and never able to find it.
“We’re almost there,” I told her, even though she hadn’t asked.
She didn’t react. Her gaze stayed fixed out the window, following the road as it snaked through the swampy outskirts of Devil’s Garden.Her knobby fingers were twisting the hem of her oversized hospital sweatshirt like it was a lifeline.
I kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting out the open window to catch the early morning breeze.Silence didn’t bother me, so I let it ride.
Eventually, she dredged up the courage to speak.“What about him?”
My brow furrowed. “Who?”
“You know…him.”
For the first time since she woke up, there was life in her face, and she sounded hopeful.Almost greedy. That tone of hero-worship?I’d know it anywhere.
“Gage?” I asked, smothering a chuckle with a quiet huff.“He’s around. You’ll see him soon enough.”
Ivy scanned me, deeply suspicious, before looking away.She didn’t trust me, but I didn’t mind.Gage was the only one she trusted right now.From the little she’d let slip, it sounded like he’d hit her captors like a force of nature—or an avenging angel.He’d saved her from something terrible, that was certain.Bad things happened at The Dead End.The bar was a hive of backroom deals and underage drinking.Not the kind of place for a kid, no matter how tough she thought she was.
As I turned down the long, oak-lined driveway, the massive house came into view.It looked like something out of a storybook, the kind with wolves in the woods and kids who never find their way home.
“It’s safe,” I said, parking in front of the veranda.“No one’s gonna hurt you here.”
She rolled her eyes and didn’t reply, clearly unimpressed, but she didn’t have much of a choice, and she knew it.After a long beat, she unbuckled her seatbelt, slow as molasses.I got out first and came around her side to open the door.Her eyes popped wide as she followed me up the steps.
Loretta stood at the door with a huge, welcoming smile.She wore plain clothes and sensible sneakers, and her bleached hair was teased into the same frizzy helmet she’d probably had since the eighties.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” she said, waving us in with a dishtowel.“Come on in before the no-see-ums eat you alive.”