“You mean put the movie on and make out the whole time?” Dawson asked archly. That’s what they’d done with numbersthree through five, which they’d then had to rewatch later, making an attempt to keep to their ends of the couch.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Daws,” Cam said earnestly.
Nobody could blame him for making sure they were on the same page, because itwasso good. Cam fit into him—and Dawson was beginning to realize,hefit intoCam—better than he’d ever imagined.
Cam smiled at him, wide and beautiful, his brown eyes brimming with affection, and Dawson felt a pulse of gratitude so intense, so satisfying, he nearly opened his mouth and said,Don’t ever leave me. Don’t ever let this thing between us die. Don’t ever go away and leave my life in shambles.But more damning than anything,Don’t ever hook up with anyone else. Not like Brynn.
Dawson shoved all that crap away or down—it didn’t matter where it went as long as it wasn’t in front of his mind—and went back to eating his food, which was, as Cam declared, really fucking delicious.
Cam had cleaned his plate and Dawson was close when he felt a buzz in his pocket. Pulled out his phone and knew, from the Baltimore area code, who it was. The prosecutor was calling him.
“Who is it?” Cam asked. “Is it the prosecutor?”
Dawson nodded, and Cam reached over, squeezing his arm. “I’ll grab the check. You go take that call.”
“Alright,” Dawson said, rising to his feet and grabbing his jacket.
It was cold, but not raining at least, so he flipped his collar up and answered the phone.
“Hi, this is Dawson Hall.”
“Oh, good, Mr. Hall. I’m glad I caught you.” The woman’s voice was light and musical. Not the hard-nosed, very male lawyer that he’d expected. Maybe this was the assistant? He’d only seen N. Kaminski listed in the paperwork.
“Of course,” Dawson said.
“I’m Natalia Kaminski, the lead prosecutor in the Ackerman case.”
“Oh.”Oh. He felt very stupid now, unpleasantly reminded of all the times Brynn had told him, rolling her eyes, about how he didn’t even realize how privileged he was. He shouldn’t have assumed that N. Kaminski was a man.
“I’m very glad you contacted me,” she said, forging ahead like he hadn’t sounded surprised that she was who was handling the case. “Your lawyer has been . . .well, we’ll say, very stringent about gatekeeping your time and attention. I get it. You have a job that requires it, but it’s been somewhat frustrating from this side.”
Dawson unstuck his voice. “What? You wanted to talk to me and Simon wouldn’t let you?”
She sighed. “Yes. Simon’s been very eager for us to give attention to this plea deal Ackerman’s lawyers suggested, but . . .” She trailed off and Dawson thought he might throw up all the Lebanese food he’d just eaten, right here on this sidewalk.
Simon had said, over and over again, how it was the prosecutor’s office who wanted the plea to go through. Nothim.
“But?” he managed to ask.
“I want justice for you, of course, but there’s a whole host of families he stole from. I want justice forthem,too,” she said. “And as terrible as it might sound, you being involved means press and attention and makes people give a shit.”
“That’s what I want too. I want him to pay. To not spent the next few years in his cushy-ass mansion.” Dawson could hear the desperate edge to his voice. The panic rising inside him.
Simon had lied. He’dlied. After he knew everything Dawson had been through. How paranoid he’d gotten. How terrified he was to trust anyone. But he’d done it anyway.
“Good. We’re on the same page, then.”
“In the future, contact me directly,” Dawson said. He was sure Simon would have an excuse. A reason why he’d twisted this whole situation. But it didn’t matter. There was no earthly explanation he could ever stomach that could justify Simon’s betrayal.
“Of course.” There was the barest whisper of sympathy in her voice, but she was a professional. She wasn’t going to ask. Didn’t need to ask, probably. “Give me your email. I’ll include you directly on all the correspondence in the future.”
“And whatever you need,” Dawson said, after he spelled it out for her. “I don’t know what Simon told you about my willingness to testify, but I’m ready to do it.”
“I’m still hoping it doesn’t come to that, but I appreciate it, and the other victims will too,” Natalia said wryly.
“That’s the idea,” Dawson said. It was easier to focus on that, on what he could do, than on the horrible feeling spreading through him, poison running through his veins.
Was it just Simon? Or was his agent in on it too? Had Simon and Alex conspired together to keep Dawson in the dark? The bottom of his stomach dropped out,again.
