Why the hell had he?
Was this really all about me not wanting to work with him?
I let out a sigh of frustration and shifted in my chair. The damn thing was so uncomfortable. Maybe that was their tactic: make me so uncomfortable that I’d confess to anything just to get out of there.I’d say it was a damn good tactic because I was ready to do just about anything to get out of here.
When the door opened, I sat up straighter, expecting to see my lawyer or maybe one of the officers. Except it wasn’t either of those. It was Harley’s mother. No one stopped her. No one accompanied her. She just walked in like she owned the place—maybe she did. But all of that didn’t bode well for me.
“You’re not my lawyer,” I said when she shut the door.
“How astute of you, Mr. Fox,” she replied. The insult wasn’t lost on me, but I didn’t say a word. Her gaze followed mine when I glanced up at the camera in the corner. “The Sheriff is an old family friend. Those cameras aren’t on. There’s no one watching out for you.”
I bit back a smartass remark. I wasn’t an idiot. Her choice of words was deliberate.
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“I would like to talk to you.” She pulled out the chair across from me and sat down.
“Yeah, well, I don’t want to fucking talk to you,” I told her with the utmost honesty and no care if my language offended her. She was the absolute last person I wanted to see. That included Aidan—I had some choice words picked out for him.
“Oh, but you will,” she said as she set her purse on the table. “You can tell me to leave now, Mr. Fox, but then I will make a decision on your behalf, and I know you won’t like the one that I make.”
“You can go fuck yourself,” I growled.
“Am I staying, or am I going, Mr. Fox?” she asked, and I said nothing. Taking my silence as compliance, she reached into her purse and removed a single photo. Even the way she laid it out on the table was pretentious. I glanced at it, unable to help myself. It was a mugshot of some guy with a bald head and a mustache too big for his face.Why the hell was she showing me a mugshot?
“Am I supposed to know who the fuck that is?” I retorted.
“This,” Mrs. Lowell began, “is Robert Howard. He was convicted of six counts of murder. Let’s just say… he owes me a favor.”
I didn’t want to know how the hell a man likethatowed someone like her a favor. I knew when to keep my head down. No good could come out of that question.
“Now, here’s what’s going to happen,” she continued as she slid the photo closer to me. “You’re going to plead guilty to the charges against you, you’re going to go to jail, and you’re going to make sure that my son never talks to you again.”
My heart rate kicked up, thrumming anxiously. Everything about her set me on edge. She said the words with such certainty that it scared me a little.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because if you do, Mr. Howard will make sure you make it through your sentence without incident.”
“And if I don’t?” I whispered.However, I had a horrible, sinking feeling that I knew where she was going with this.I needed to hear her say it—needed to know I wasn’t crazy for thinking what I was.
“Mr. Howard will guarantee that you will never see the outside of prison once you’re in,” Mrs. Lowell said. The casual way in which she said the threat almost threw me as much as the words themselves.
”Why?” I dared to ask.
“You are a disease, Mr. Fox, and you have infected my son,” she replied, her voice cold and unforgiving. “Are you going to risk your life for my son, or are you going to protect yourself?”
I stared at her, the sound of my heartbeat loud and erratic in my ears.What kind of choice was that?I loved Harley—I loved Harley more than I’d ever loved anyone—but I didn’t want to die either.
But why did it feel stupidly selfish to say that? Why did it feel wrong not to pick Harley?
“You don’t even love him.” The words were barely audible over the rush of blood to my head.
“A mother’s job is not to love their child,” she told me. “It’s to ensure their success and, in Harley’s case, their survival. He’s too soft to do what’s necessary, so I have to do it for him.”
I shook my head, looking away as the familiar burn of tears bit the back of my eyes.I wouldn’t cry in front of her.Only I would manage to get myself in a situation like this. And fuck, I didn’t even know how to argue with her. What good would that do me when I was sitting in handcuffs with my life in her hands?
“Tell me how. At least have the decency to tell me how the fuck you pulled this off.”
