The drive to Shantelle’s place is long enough to let my thoughts spiral.
I should’ve called first. What if she’s not home? What if she is home, but she slams the door in my face?
The image makes me scoff. No, she won’t do that. If there’s anything Shantelle loves, it’s confrontation.
My phone buzzes in the passenger seat, and I glance at the screen. Adrian.
I pick up. “Perfect timing.”
“That so?” His voice is relaxed, the distant hum of city noise in the background.
“Yeah, I need a distraction before I do something reckless.”
“What is it now?”
“Got the file.”
Silence.
Then, “She did it, didn’t she?”
“She did,” I say.
He sighs, long and drawn out. “Go easy on her, Damon.”
“Go easy on her? She tried to kill Claire.”
“And I’m not excusing that, but you have to admit, you played
