Chapter Thirty-One
I’m…speechless.
George’s turn to smirk. “Please tell me all these years you and Declan have been working with me on the campaigns because yougenuinelywanted to and not just because you finagled the world’s most convoluted revenge plot ever for a motherfucker who damn sure needed killing?”
I sit up and swing around, straddling his lap, where I reach up and play with his shirt buttons. “Yes?”
“Is that an answer, or a question, counselor?” His hands cover mine, stilling them, waiting until I meet his gaze again. “Never mind. What does Declan know about number three?”
“He doesn’t even know about one and two.” I sigh. “I think he suspects number three. It was supposed to be a…joint project. Long game. Since Declan was fifteen and the sonofabitch—Junior—either killed Emma himself, or paid someone to do it. That’s why Declan wanted to become an attorney. But I knew I couldn’t wait until after the election to do it, because it’d look suspicious if I had more contact with Junior then. Declan asked me about it the next day after the news broke, but I didn’t lie to him. I just…omitted my actions.”
“So you lied to him by not admitting you had any part in it.”
I nod.
“And your role was…?”
“I baited Junior, after several months of heavy flirting with him at fundraisers, to invite me to his house that Sunday night. I cooked chicken I’d marinated overnight in peanut oil, ate some, kissed him, and held him down until he died. Once he was dead, I jabbed him with his EpiPen, then set it up to look like he’d cooked himself dinner but had developed a sudden and tragic shrimp allergy.”
“Holy shit,” he mutters. I see him runningthatthrough his mind. “Then why doesn’t Declan know you—” He sucks air through his teeth. “Because you knew he was in love with me, and I was in love with him, and you didn’t want him caught up in this. Andthat’swhy you made me promise to protect him first. Jesusfuck, Case.” He stares at me. “Pleasetell me you’re safe.”
I nod. “I am. I mean, I seem to be.”
“Ireallywant to spank you right now.”
I arch an eyebrow at him.
“Aspunishmentfor putting yourself at risk,duh,” he adds. “What thefuckwas I supposed to do without you if someone caught you, huh?”
“I wasn’t planning on getting caught.” George gives me Dom eyebrow, but I suppose that one’s warranted. “So what now?” I quietly ask.
“Honestly?”
I nod.
Before I can process it, he’s kissing me. Still holding my hands, but I realize if I don’t want this kiss, all I have to do is lean away from him.
I lean forward, into it, kissing him back.
“No more secrets,” he mumbles against my lips as he kisses me. “You tell meeverything. Is there anything else?”
“Like that? No. You?”
“Over the years, I’ve helped four different women get away with murdering their abusive husbands. Three times by helping conceal evidence or altering a crime scene, and once by direct intervention.”
Startled, I lean back and stare at him, a barking laugh escaping me. “Dafuq?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. I warned you I’m no angel. I’ve also secretly helped expose five men who were involved with child porn, or child sexual abuse, or other situations like that. I’d lose my law license, at the very least, if my role in any of those cases come to light, and I’d definitely go to jail for the first batch.”
“Fuck no angel. You’re like the original OG Hillbilly.”
He snorts. “Still want to be with me?”
I look deep into his eyes. “I guess no secrets means I need to tell you all the shit I have on everyone, huh?”
“Yeah. Ditto.”
I need to admit one last thing. “I have video of that first night in my office, between you and Declan,” I quietly say.
