Chapter 48: Crooked Intentions

By the end of it, Damon clenched his fist and knocked back a full glass. Fabian Farrell could tell he meant every word; being a cop was nothing like the rosy picture outsiders imagined, tangled as it was with too many bigwigs. "Man, I just opened a bar," Fabian raised his glass in a small salute, his gaze unwavering. "Relax, I'm not mixed up with any gangs. I'm not touching anything illegal. I've got my limits-and a conscience. I hope you'll look out for me down the road." "This is your own idea?"...