“The fuck it has,” I fire back, my blood igniting. “No one has ever been kicked out of a place of business for the color of their skin until this shit with Jamal Jenkins went down.”

He shrugs. “Maybe not, but racism has always been strong around here.” I shake my head but he doesn’t let me speak. “Really? We played football together for four years. Four fucking years and not once did we hang out. Why do you think that is?”

I rear back, floored by his insinuation. “Well it sure the fuck wasn’t because you’re black. I’ve never treated you differently than anyone else, Johnson, and you damn well know it. We may have run in different crowds, but out on that field we were a team. I treated you the same way I did everyone else.”

He grunts. “Yeah, well you were the only one. Don’t you remember when I got rocked on the field by Banks, and I was out for two weeks because of it?”

I throw my hands up. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Because Phelps purposely didn’t fucking block me,” he bellows.

“The hell you say! Phelps was one of my good friends, he would have never done something like that.”

“You’re fucking blind.”

“I’m not fucking blind, you’re fucking crazy.”

“Oh yeah?” He stands, resting his hands on the edge of my desk.

“Yeah! And if you wanna play the fucking race card then let’s turn this the other way and look at what happened to Liv.” I stand, matching him stance for stance. “Those bastards hurt her because they think Walt shot Jamal because he was black, but he didn’t.”

“I fucking know he didn’t! I’ve known that old stubborn bastard for years. He would never do something like that.”

Our voices continue to rise, both of us consumed by anger and irritation.

“Exactly! So it’s not just one-sided.”

“I never said it was!”

“Then why the fuck are we fighting about this?”

“I don’t fucking know!”

We glare at one another, our chests rising and falling with frustration.

The sound of snapping gum knocks us from our stare down. We turn to see Lucy watching us from the doorway. “I don’t know why you two idiots are fightin’ either but it’s highly entertaining,” she remarks with a smile before blowing another bubble and walking away.

With a chuckle, I turn my attention back to Terrell and find him watching me with amusement. “You know I got your back, right? That I would never judge you or anyone else because of the color of their skin?”

“Yeah, Taylor, I know that. I’ve always known that. Sorry I got so worked up, but the thing is, not everyone here is like you. I understand you might not see it because you haven’t been subjected to it, but it does happen, a lot more than you think. My father once said something to me when I was just a kid, and it’s something I always try to remember but sometimes it’s really fucking hard to do.”

“What’s that?” I ask quietly.

A beat of silence passes.

“When the eyes of hate are upon you, look away.”

I stare at him, unsure of what to say. To think his father needed to say something like that to him as a kid makes me wonder if I really have been blind.

“You’re right though,” he continues. “It has been happening on both sides, especially lately. Look what just happened with you at Pillar’s this morning. But honestly…can you blame the kids being fearful these days?”

“What do you mean?”

Looking over his shoulder, he ensures we’re alone before leaning in closer and lowering his voice. “Look at what went on with Daryl Baker.”

I grimace. “What about it? Prichard was cleared of the allegation.”

“He may have been cleared but are you so sure he didn’t do it?”

Before I can ask what the hell he’s talking about, Dixon comes stalking in with a set of papers clutched firmly in his hand. “We finally got the results back from the lab, and we have a match.”

Our conversation forgotten, we both give him our full attention. “Who is it?” I ask, adrenaline sparking in my veins.

“Reggie West.”

That motherfucker!

“Shit!” Terrell curses. “That son of a bitch’s alibi was locked up tight. His employer confirmed it.”

“Well, he lied, and this confirms it,” Dixon says, holding up the incriminating proof. He pauses and brings his sole focus to me, his eyes boring into mine. “Traces of Olivia’s blood were found on his necklace. There’s no doubt this is our guy.”

That’s all I needed to hear. “Address.” I demand.

Dixon rattles off the address, located in a shitty part of town. “Go with him, Johnson. I’m also sending Prichard and Wilkinson for backup,” he says, referring to the rookie.

I don’t give a fuck who he sends. West’s ass is mine.

Terrell hesitates. “Do you think we should be the ones to go? This case is personal for the both of us.”

My gaze snaps to his. “What the fuck are you saying? Of course we’re going. This is for Liv and it’s my goddamn case. I’m going to be the one to take him down. Now are you coming or not?”

He exhales a heavy breath. “Yeah, man, of course I’m comin’.”

Dixon hands over the warrant before Terrell and I head out to my patrol truck. Prichard and Wilkinson hop in the one beside us and wait for us to take the lead out.

We forgo the sirens, not wanting to alert or draw attention. “How much do you know about him?” I ask.

“Not much more than you. Moved here a few years back from California after a two-year stint in LA lockup for drug trafficking, as you know. Lived with his aunt for a while, Jamal’s mother. He works construction for Security Builders over in Springfield.” He shakes his head. “I still can’t believe his foreman, Fernando Cortez, gave a sworn statement that he was working when the rape took place. Once we have him in custody we need to pay Mr. Cortez another visit.”

“Agreed.”

“That’s pretty much all I know about West, but Darius says he doesn’t fuck around.”

“Do you think Darius or Kenton were a part of this, too?”

He immediately rejects the idea. “No, no way. I’ll admit they were crushed about what happened to Jamal, but there’s no way in hell they’d hurt Liv. They know she’s not to blame, and Darius can’t fucking stand Reggie. Trust me, they had no part in this. I would know.”

I want to believe it, and I hope that’s the truth, but who the fuck knows? I feel like I don’t know anything anymore.

My hand flexes around the steering wheel, my control slipping the closer we get.

“You sure you can handle this, Taylor?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah, I got this.”

I hope.

The thought of coming face-to-face with the man who hurt Liv, who put his fucking hands on her and brutalized her in the worst way imaginable is what I’m struggling with. The anger I feel toward him has built a fire of hate in my soul, and I’m doing my best to stomp it out and do my job without thoughts of killing the motherfucker. I need to keep my head.

I have to.

We arrive a few minutes later. I park down the street from the house, not wanting to alert them of our presence and Prichard pulls in behind us. “I still can’t fucking believe Dixon sent not only Prichard but also a fucking rookie,” Terrell mumbles, shaking his head.

His earlier words come back to me, but I shove them aside for a later time. All I care about is taking this motherfucker down. “We need backup right now. Who knows what we’re walking into. All that matters is bringing this fucker in.”

He gives me a stern nod, agreeing with me even if he doesn’t like it.

We hop down from the truck, quickly retrieving our vests from the backseat before meeting up with Wilkinson and Prichard, who are both suited up and ready to go. “Seems like we might have a full house,” Wilkinson remarks, gesturing to the few cars parked out front. I also take note of the music beating loudly from inside the house.

“All right, here’s how we’re going to work it.” I begin. “Wilkinson, you cover the back and Prichard you come in with Johnson and me. The three of us should be able to contain whoever is in there and get to West. We give no warning; let’s get in and get him out. Got it?”