“It won’t reflect poorly on you,” Axel assures her. “I can have one of our other lawyers stand in. Hadyn looked over Everett’s case with you. I was planning to send him for co-counsel anyway.”
“I hear that. Part of me even thinks that’s a good idea.” She roams farther into the room, bracing herself on the back of a chair, her fingers weaving into her hair with exasperation, until she shakes her head, resolved. “But that’s all rooted in fear. I’ve been running for years. Looking over my shoulder in a town where I had nothing to drive me. Terrified to return to the place I loved. I ran so I’d be safe, but it was a prison I was slowly dying in. And now I’m here, and you want me to keep hiding. It feels like losing all over again.”
White oak and screams.
A pang of failure pummels me. I told her I wanted to be the man to build her back up, and I’m about to be the one to break her. “La Lune Noire has everything you need. You could stay here for years without getting bored. And your community here is vast. Friends, coworkers, family. It’s not the same.”
Her chest rises with what appears to be a cleansing inhale, but serenity is lacking on the exhale. She grips the chair, knuckles blanching. “It’s not about that. The location doesn’t matter. It’s about the asshole who stole everything from me still calling the shots, even from the damn grave. That’s the prison. Every time I change course because of Dalton or something related to him, it’s defeat.”
She hangs her head, and I fucking shatter. I chance a look at Axel, and he dips his chin, as if to remind me we have another way. One that could acclimate her to not merely being on my arm, but also being part of our business. And, hopefully, it will enable us to put all this behind her.
Maybe she senses my resolve waffling because she lifts her chin after a long beat with an expression that is downright lethal.“I’m either the queen by your side or a prisoner in a bell tower, but I can’t be both.”
She always knows how to cut me off at the knees.
“Okay. Have a seat. We have a second option.” I wait while she settles into the chair, relishing the way her brown doe eyes brighten. “You handle Everett’s case, and afterward, we meet Emma and Bryce for dinner.”
Her gaze ping-pongs between Axel and me. “What am I missing?”
“Bryce Wakeford is lawyer shopping.”
“And?” She tilts her head, skepticism painting her features.
I hesitate. This whole plan is half-cocked, but it’s our best shot. Though I can already hear her objections.
Regardless, I forge ahead. “Trafton died with something important to tell me. He’d had a group of seven others that he met with weekly and confided in. I’m hoping he told them whatever it was or left some clues. The thing is, out of those seven, I have a relationship with four. Two of them are in The Order, and I don’t want to go that route because it seems tied to this somehow. Another is the cousin of the guy who committed the act of violence the night we attended the rooftop party and had to bedealt with, so the timing isn’t the best to reach out for a favor. And the last is Bryce Wakeford. He’s notconnected, but we have an in through Emma.”
She squints her eyes in what seems to be annoyance. “This is like junior high.Irecognize that, and I never even attended a physical school. You want me to have Emma convince her fiancé to tell you what Trafton was upset about? Why don’t you just ask him? Or do you have plans with Axel at recess?”
She sticks her tongue out at the end of that to convey that her playground snark is in jest. And that teasing side of her has adoration coursing through my veins. I just want to put all thisshit behind us and live our goddamn life. But she isn’t wrong. It’s a winding road to get to where we want to be.
My non-junior-high method would be to torture the man and his six confidantes, but I think she’d be opposed. Especially because we’d have to kill them when we were done. Sharing that won’t sell this idea any better though, so I stick to laying out the plan.
“Maybe we’ll meet under the bleachers after school, and I can show you what you missed.” I wink and drink in the blush that creeps up her neck. “I want you to represent him—or offer to. He’s got a case waiting to be scheduled, one that Trafton would have covered. He might already have someone stepping in, but if we get to him quickly, there’s a chance. I’ll get it in front of Judge Nicholson and assign another lawyer to it with you. It’ll be an easy win, but that way, if we need to pull you, he’ll be covered. Bryce will be indebted. I’ll offer him a membership here in exchange for everything he knows on Trafton and anyone else for that matter.”
She sighs, formulating the proper phrasing for the objections I know are coming. “I’m not opposed to representing him. I’d like to know what the case is first. But it feels deceitful to be doing it with an ulterior motive. Why use Emma or the case as an in? He’d probably cooperate for the membership.”
“Maybe.” I roll my dice, still not getting my seven and five. “But I’ve been turning this guy away for years. If I go straight to him, I’m showing all my cards. He’ll know I’m desperate, and that could backfire. It has to be organic. We’ll meet for a casual meal. You’ll convince me in front of them that you should take his case. I’ll give in, and then we’ll be on an even playing field.”
Axel and I exchange a glance because we suspect what’s coming. We also spoke about this. His position is firm that if she’s going to be my partner, she needs to come to terms with certain aspects of what that means. He’s not out of line. I’m justso gone for this woman that the thought of her thinking ill of me hurts.
Her brown embers pierce both of us with the confidence of a warrior—my Viper. “And if he fucks up, tips someone off, or …”
No sense in overcomplicating this. “He will be treated as a member.”
She presses, needing more. “And if members don’t cooperate or if they narc on you—”
“On us,” Axel corrects on autopilot, attention directed at his personal roulette.
“On us.” She pins him with a glare. “What is the consequence?”
Axel lifts his sapphires from his spinning Casino Tourbillon watch, not bothered in the least about revealing our practices. “Elimination.”
Her head whips back to me, arms flailing everywhere with her protest. “I can’t. Emma doesn’t want any part of this life. She was happy you’d turned Bryce away.”
I focus on dropping and catching my dice, which soothes me like a game of jacks did when I was a kid, easing my anxiety so I don’t snap. “You aren’t responsible for that. He wants this. He’s a grown man. You’re helping him. End of story.”
“You two are so out of touch sometimes.” She rubs her temples as though we’re giving her a migraine. “This feels like I’m being a bad friend to her.”
