“Why would you do that? She isn’t anything to you.”

“Like hell, she isn’t. I—” he stopped himself before he revealed anything. “I promised her I’d protect her.”

Dmetri nodded gravely, a grin splitting across his face. “You love her.”

Brayden might have laughed if his body wasn’t strung so tight. “I don't love her. I care for her. She’s mine to protect.”

“And I suppose what you guys did in my guest bedroom the other night has nothing to do with it.”

Brayden clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms. “What?” he asked darkly.

Dmetri shrugged. “It’s not like we couldn’t hear. That woman can scream.”

He’d taken several steps toward him before he stopped himself. He had to close his eyes and remember that Dmetri was a friend, if a bit of a jackass. He was just jerking him. Dmetri’s grin fell, his eyes getting a soft look to them.

“I’m happy for you, friend. I didn’t know if you’d ever find someone to fit you. I’d suspected...with Vanessa.”

Brayden stalked back to the window. Better to look outside then at his friend’s face right now, else he might throw his fist at it. “What are you talking about now? None of this is helping the situation.”

“Maybe not, but I’d wondered a bit back when we first met Vanessa. The way you acted around her. I thought it was odd, but now I just see...it was early on attraction.” Dmetri’s low chuckle drifted like a wave. “It’s okay to care for her. It’s okay to let yourself feel for a woman. It might bring you some shit here and there, but none of that matters; none of it even compares to the rest.”

Brayden found himself hanging on to his friend’s words. “The rest of what?”

“All the good stuff that love brings, my friend. I think you’ve found that. That’s why you’ve been going batshit crazy. You love her.”

Brayden didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

He listened to the sound of Dmetri standing, his footsteps as he crossed the room. Dmetri rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll work things out. I know you will. Take a break, relax. Do some work, anything. Once your mind clears a bit, the fog will lift, and you’ll be thinking smarter. You’ll figure something out. Best of luck to you.” Dmetri turned and started leaving.

Sighing, Brayden called out. “Thanks, Dmetri. You are a...good friend.”

Dmetri grinned, then closed the study door behind him.

Brayden listened to his friend’s advice. It felt strange being on the other side of it. Usually, he was the one giving orders, giving advice to his younger friend. Yet Dmetri had spotted his problems and feelings more precisely than he ever probably could have on his own. He did care for Vanessa, a lot. The word ‘love’ trickled through his mind like dripping water. Did he love her? Maybe; maybe it explained that suffocating tightness in his chest that hadn’t left since she’s been gone. Maybe it explained the utter humiliation of his actions—that he’d let her get taken away. He’d broken his promise. His manhood had taken a mighty blow with that one—he might never be able to have children now.

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Dmetri was right. Maybe if he got back on the Brunes case, he could settle his mind enough to figure out what to do. God, he missed her so damned much. It was an actual physical ache in his body. Everything muscle seemed to hurt. Headaches switched to migraines and back and forth, and hadn’t gone away since she was taken. To work then.

He grabbed his briefcase, got in his SUV, and headed to work. He needed something to break in this case. Brunes was guilty and not just of one murder, but two. Brunes’ ex-wife and Justicar Daniel will be the last souls Brunes takes.

Brayden read over the sentence in the Givens woman’s witness report for the fifth time. Hell, the words were just starting to run together.

“Fuck!” He slammed his fist on the desk, feeling a little better when his pen holder spilled over making a mess. He normally would have righted it straight away, but he didn’t give a shit at the mess.

Well, Dmetri had been wrong on one thing. Coming to work hadn’t gotten his mind off of Vanessa. How could it? He’d even gone over every piece of evidence they had on the Brunes case several times and still nothing popped. They couldn’t even try him on conspiracy to commit murder. The man had no evidence against him, yet Brayden’s gut told him Brunes did it. Maybe if he put enough pressure on him the man would pop and confess. It was looking like that was the only way this was going to work. Brunes was too smart and powerful to slip up. His influence had helped him to get away with the murder of his wife, but damn if Brayden would sit by and doing nothing now.

With that thought in mind, he packed up his briefcase and headed for Brunes’. The LED lights on his clock in the SUV stated it was nine o’clock. Not too late to make an official call, but too late to be polite. Fuck pleasantries, the man was a murderer. His hands tightened over the steering wheel. If he got lucky, Brunes might piss him off enough to start a fight. He could use a good fight to get the unsettled, anxious energy out of his blood.

It was late when he rolled up through the gated driveway of the Brunes mansion. Small spotlights lit the front and sides of the house as if trying to notify the world that a rich person lived there. As if they couldn’t already tell by his massive house. Just the drive to the house itself was ridiculous. Took a good couple minutes before he pulled up in front of the house and jumped out of his SUV.

Brayden strode to the door and without hesitating, beat his fist on it. On the third knock, the door swung open and the old butler waited there. His black suit jacket was off and the sleeves of his white button-down shirt were rolled up.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“I need to see King Brunes. Justicar matters.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Brunes isn’t taking any visitors now—”

Brayden shook his head, then pushed his way past the old man. He looked left and right, finding nothing but empty dark rooms. A deep voice came from the end of the hall. He followed it down to Brunes’ study.

“Uh, sir, I will have to call the Justicars if you do not leave. You are not welcome here.”

If the butler was going for threatening, he did a piss poor job. He sounded about as intimidating as a fledging kitten.

“Go ahead; I might need backup.”

“As you wish...” the butler’s voice trailed away.

Brayden paused in front of the double-wide study door. He cocked his ear to it as he glanced back up the hall. The butler had disappeared. Brunes was speaking inside, but almost as if on cue, the talking ceased once he listened. Brayden didn’t hesitate. His blood had been churning at a slow boil for days. Four days since Vanessa had been taken right from under him. Four days since he failed a woman that meant much more to him than he’d even realized, until she was gone. He opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was brightly lit. Every lamp turned on, even the grand crystal chandelier. Not a shadow appeared. Brunes stood in front of his desk, a small smile on his face. Brayden wanted to grapple the motherfucker to the ground, pound his fist into his face until bones cracked and blood spurted. Yeah, that was about the mood he was in right now.

“How unexpected, Justicar Brayden. What’s brought you all the way out here?”

Brayden took his time searching the room. Brunes wasn’t one to keep his back unwatched. He couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean some guard wasn’t close.

“I think you know that already.”

“Then why did you even bother coming here? You and I both know you have no evidence to support your claims. You can’t prove a crime that I didn’t commit.”

Brayden walked to the center of the room. He didn’t want that door at his back. He stood so he kept an eye on Brunes, the windows behind him, and the door. “We both know you did it. Hell, even Sarina knows. What I want to know, is why.”