Maybe being cheated on turned me into a skeptical, cynical asshole but it’s a feeling I can’t shake.
When I head down to the team dinner, I see Witt reading something. He seems invested, even smiling which isn’t Witt. He rarely smiles unless he’s being proven right. Witt observes, analyzes and computes the odds of anything and everything. Then he decides if it’s worth engaging.
Right now?
He’s fully engaged. Locked in.
“What are you reading?” I ask, grabbing at it like any older brother.
He jerks it away and doesn’t answer at first. Just folds the paper and slips into his coat pocket like he completely forgot I was standing there.
That’s when I know. “What was that?” I press.
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
He sighs like I’m an inconvenience, not the one acting suspicious. What is it with notes? Anna’s getting notes. Witt’s getting letters.
Then he reaches into a different pocket and pulls out aroll of documents. He lets it open and slides them across the table as I sit.
“Different version,” he says.
I frown, “Of what?”
“Information.”
Why does he have to be so dry? I flip through it.
Legal formatting.
Translated text.
Dates.
Charges.
I get a pain in my gut. “Witt….”
“Trial records from Novadia,” he says leaning forward with his elbows on the table. Almost like he doesn’t want anyone to see except me.
Everything in me goes still.
Annika.
My jaw flexes as I scan a few lines before slamming the stack shut.
“She didn’t tell me this.”
“Did you ask?”
His personality simplifies everything. It’s all black or white.
“I thought I did, but I told her she didn’t have to tell me everything all at once. Just what she felt comfortable sharing. But we’ve gotten closer since then and she hasn’t…”
“How close? Sutton said she went to margarita night with them.”
“Close. The closest I’ve been with a woman since Michelle and Cantor betrayed me. I thought I was being respectful but maybe I just didn’t want to hear it because I didn’t want to know.”
