When He's Dirty, стр. 20
“You’re into this woman, aren’t you?” Adam asks. “She got to you.”
I glance up at him. “Yeah,” I admit because fuck me, it’s obvious, “and I can’t figure out what the fuck she’s doing to me,” I add. “I’m like a freaking slinky slinking down the stairs and having the wires get all wonky. It has to be the case. It’s personal to me and her.”
“Or not. I’ve seen how you are with women. You don’t get wonky. Ever.”
“I’m a hypocrite for bringing this up,” I say, bringing up a nagging worry, “and I say hypocrite, considering some of the things you don’t want to know I’ve done in my life, but she defended some really bad people at her father’s firm.”
“And got out. That matters.”
He’s right, but I know from experience that swimming with the sharks doesn’t just make you bleed, it changes you. It had to have changed her. “Just be aware.”
“All right then. Good thing I’m going to meet with her. I’m a good read, man. I’ll tell you if I’m worried.”
He is a good read, I’ve seen that first hand, but he doesn’t read me, he doesn’t know who I became with Waters. Which means he might not be able to read Pri. And yet, I would. Surely I would. Unless her getting to me has clouded my judgment.
“What comes next, man?” Adam asks. “Walker joins the prosecution team. Do you come forward?”
“Not until the last possible minute.”
“You have to tell Pri,” he says. “You know you have to tell Pri.”
“Go to the meeting,” I say. “I’ll decide what comes next after that meeting.”
He doesn’t push. He gets it. As Blake said, I’m on a hitlist and one wrong move could expose me and land me six feet under. I can’t let Pri, intentionally or not, put me there. I can’t end Waters or protect her from him if I’m dead.
Chapter Twelve
PRI
My father always says that a red tie is a power tie, it’s a statement about money, power, and success. My father possesses all of those things so I tend to take him at his word. Not that money and power motivate me, but success does. I want the best me representing those who cannot represent themselves. My father also says that if you don’t have money, power, and success, the perception that you do will influence others around you.
I might have left his lifestyle and motivations behind, but I learned and learned well from him with my own twist of morality, and in today’s case, style. I dress in a black skirt and jacket but choose a red silk shell to complement the solid color. I’m not against a power pantsuit for a woman, but for me, a skirt reads and feels more feminine and I happen to think it works for me, not against me.
Whatever the case, ready to take on the world—or perhaps the underworld is more appropriate—I slide into the back of an Uber which is easier than finding parking for my own car downtown. Normally, I’d walk to work, but that option feels better avoided outside my small, safe neighborhood, filled with active nosy neighbors. Exactly why the gun in my purse and the Secretary of State’s phone number in my possession lend me confidence in where the future is headed. I’m protecting me. Perhaps the Walker Security references will convince me that they can protect our witnesses. And maybe, just maybe, those of us still living can survive.
I arrive at work and manage to dodge all the obstacles, including people, questions, gossip, and a bullpen of desks, between me and my office. Once I’m there, I shut my door, settle behind my desk and stick my purse in my drawer. Once my briefcase is unpacked, I eagerly start calling the Walker references. I start with a few private sector contacts and everyone eagerly takes my call, raving about Walker, Blake, and his brothers. Adam and someone named Savage are mentioned as well. When I finally dial the Secretary of State, I end up talking to his secretary, who says she’s been told to tell me that “Blake Walker is the best man I know and please tell him I said so.” That call wins me over. I’m sold on Walker and the idea that Rafael works for Blake has me thinking he’s probably really just Rafael, not Adrian. Either way, I’m about to go hunt down Ed when there’s a knock on my door before Grace pops her head inside my office.
I motion her forward and she hurries toward me, looking pretty in a pink suit dress, her skin glowing.
“When can we talk about Josh?” she asks, perching on the arm of one of my visitor chairs.
“If you love him, after this case,” I say. “If he broke your heart, I’ll go beat him up while I’m in war mode.”
“I’m worried about you,” Grace says. “I know it’s not likely, but what if Waters comes after you?”
“I’m worried about my witnesses. Law enforcement thinks the killer is one of Waters’ top men, but they don’t know. They’re operating on speculation.”
“I’m worried about you,” she repeats.
“I’m fine. You know they’d just replace me if I died. Waters won’t come after me and he’s isolated right now. He can’t communicate with anyone.”
“Maybe his attorney is dirty. And if you die, the case will be delayed and who knows what would happen. It would get crazier than it already is now. What about Ed?” she asks, softening her voice. “Is he worried?”
“He’s worried about everything to do with this case. He’s a beast right now.”
“I mean about himself. I mean, yes, you can be replaced, but if he was suddenly out of the picture, the case would stall. I wonder if a new DA would