Redemption by Eden Winters Read Free Book Online Page B

don’t choose someone, I’ll be forced to choose for you.” He returned his hand to Lucky’s shoulder. “Trust me, Lucky. I wish I hadn’t waited ten years.”
    Walter never raised his voice, didn’t even sound stern. Lucky got the message anyway. As fatherly as he spoke, first and foremost Walter was Lucky’s boss.
    Lucky ought to give Art a call, find out who he’d used when he’d shot a man determined to carve out his liver with a switchblade about three years ago. But Art winged the guy, who’d lived to get shot by someone else in a drug deal gone wrong.
    “Is that all you have to tell me?” Walter sat, unblinking.
    “I think so.” Lucky dropped his hands to his lap. The chloral hydrate should be out of his system by now, thanks to the gag-inducing brew he choked down every night, courtesy of Loretta Johnson.
    “A drug test is mandatory when there’s been a shooting.”
    “I’ll go.” And pray they did a piss test and not hair analysis—and that it came out negative.
    The rigid set of Walter’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m sorry, Lucky. After all you’ve been through these last few months. You should have mentioned this earlier and included as much as you remembered in your report.”
    “I wasn’t sure. I keep having nightmares. They mess with my brain until I can’t figure out how much is real or a dream.”
    Walter nodded. “Make an appointment soon. Until we’ve finished our investigation, I’ll reinstate your leave, if you’d like.”
    “No. Don’t.” Lucky didn’t want more time to think. He stood and slogged to the door, body heavy, like swimming through molasses. Maybe he should take a break. “I’ll let you know.”
    “Lucky?”
    “Yes?”
    “Two agents behaved admirably under pressure and performed above and beyond expectations. You returned both to me through your actions. If you pulled the trigger to save the lives of two good men, you did the right thing.”
    Confessing meant dragging in Internal Affairs or whatever—and Bo. Last thing the poor guy needed.
    Lucky spent the next few hours finishing his report, filling in what he could weed out as fact, and what he recalled of the fuzzy parts. Had Cruz stood on his left or right? Where was Bo? Alejandro? Fuck. Alejandro, who’d taken on his own brother to save Lucky. And bled out in a parking lot.
    Lucky’s phone chimed around 3:00 p.m. Bo texted, Gotta talk to you. Now.
    Shit, meet fan. Four stretched yellow lights and three middle finger salutes later, Lucky pulled in to Magnolia Center.
    ***
    Bo met Lucky at the door. “Oh, God, Lucky. Why didn’t you tell me?” All the breath whooshed out of Lucky from Bo’s savage bear hug.
    Tell you what? “Um… you were a bit busy?” Lucky gasped in enough air to say.
    Bo loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “Yeah, and I’ve been kicking myself ever since Walter left.”
    Fuck. “Walter was here?” So much for breaking the news gently.
    Bo darted a glance toward the attendant, who chatted with a couple at the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go outside.” He marched Lucky out to the patio. The day was pleasant for October, not too cool, not too hot. And it wasn’t raining.
    “What did Walter tell you?” And did Lucky need to have words with the man once he got back to the office? Bo had enough to deal with right now.
    “He came in with a guy I’d never met. Wanted to discuss the night I got… injured.”
    Injured? A vial of narcotics injected into Bo’s system counted as one hell of a lot more than injured. If not for a shot of naloxone to stave off an overdose he’d be dead.
    Bo narrowed his gaze and brought his nose within inches of Lucky’s. “They asked if I’d seen you shoot a gun.”
    Fuck.
    “I told ‘em the truth. That all hell broke loose and I lost track of who did what. And the lights were out part of the time.”
    Thank God. “So, you didn’t see me shoot anybody?”
    “No, Lucky, I didn’t.” Bo rested his head against Lucky’s. Green tea