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This book contains mature themes, explicit language, and scenes of a sexual nature intended for adult audiences only. It is rated R and is not suitable for readers under the age of 18.
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This book also includes depictions o...
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Beyonce Knowles Police Station
December 1
I walked into the interrogation room, the fluorescent lights flickering slightly, casting a harsh glow on Trevante Rhodes. He was sitting there, cuffed to the table, his face bruised and swollen.
The second I stepped in, his eyes met mine, and he smirked, licking his lips like he had something clever to say.
"Looks like you ran into some trouble, huh?" I said, not breaking eye contact.
He just chuckled, leaning back in his chair as far as the cuffs would let him. "Nothing I can't handle."
I pulled out a chair and sat down across from him, keeping my voice steady. "Where you been?"
He shrugged casually, like this was just another day. "Around."
I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing he wasn't going to make this easy. "And by 'around,' you mean hiding out? Dodging people? Or just keeping busy beating the shit out of your girlfriend?"
His smirk faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, shaking his head. "I didn't touch her like that."
"Really?" I leaned in slightly, keeping my voice low but sharp. "You expect me to believe you? She's got bruises, Trevante. What, you think hurting her makes you feel like a man?"
He smirked again, licking his lips slowly, clearly trying to play it cool. "You got a way of twisting things, Detective."
"Don't play with me. You think I don't know your type? A coward who takes his anger out on women. What, makes you feel powerful? Like you're in control?"
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone.
"Nah, it's not like that. You don't know shit about me."
"Oh, I know plenty," I shot back, my voice steady but cutting. "I know you've been running things since your daddy went 'missing'. I know you can't keep your hands to yourself when shit doesn't go your way. And I know, deep down, you're just a scared little boy trying to prove something."
His eyes narrowed, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of anger behind that cocky smile.
"You can say what you want, but you don't know a damn thing about what's going on."
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. "So enlighten me, Trevante. How does it feel? How does it feel to be such a fucking coward that the only way you feel strong is by putting your hands on someone weaker than you?"
He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "You think you're gonna get in my head with all this shit talk, don't you? Nah. You ain't got nothing on me. And you know what? She's not even gonna press charges. You can't keep me here."
