“I wouldn’t.” My voice is sharp now. Honest. There’s no hesitation when I say it. “Not before. Not after. Not ever. I wouldn’t touch anyone else.”
I glance at my phone again. Four minutes. That knot of anxiety tightens further in my chest.
Greg watches me, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “You’re trying to protect her from people who’ve been trying to protect her longer than you’ve known her.”
“Maybe,” I admit. “But the difference is, I’m protecting her from something real. You realise that, don’t you? The club’s gone door to door across half this damn city gathering footage from that night. We’re trying to figure out who it is, for her.”
His voice drops, disbelief heavy in the words. “There’s no footage.”
“That’s bullshit. We’ve got plenty. It’s just tied up right n
