Page 23 of Angel’s Claim

I step inside and close the door behind me. The click of the latch feels too loud in the sudden silence.

Phoenix leans back in his chair, studying me. Judge doesn't move, just stands there like a wall of silent judgment.

"Sit," Phoenix says.

I sit in the chair across from his desk and wait. This is his show. I'm just here to answer for what I did.

"You've been prospecting for six weeks," Phoenix says finally. "Six weeks. And in that time, you've done good work. Shown up when we needed you. Handled yourself well. Kept your head down and your mouth shut when it mattered."

I nod but don't speak.

"So, I'm trying to figure out," Phoenix continues, his voice dangerously calm, "why the fuck you thought it was a good idea to give your cut to a woman you don't know."

"She was cold," I say.

"She was cold," Judge repeats, and there's no inflection in his voice. Just flat repetition.

"Yeah."

Phoenix leans forward, elbows on his desk. "You want to try that again? With the full story this time?"

I take a breath. "I was at O'Malley's last night. Saw a guy harassing her at the bar, Dusty Martin. She asked him to leave. He didn't. So, I stepped in."

"And then?"

"And then I made sure she got somewhere safe for the night. She was cold, so I gave her my cut. Walked her to the Millhaven Inn, made sure she had a room."

"And this morning?" Judge asks.

"This morning I took her to breakfast. Then to Petals and Stems because she needed a job. Margaret's giving her a trial."

Phoenix and Judge exchange a look I can't read.

"You know what it means," Phoenix says. "Giving a woman your cut."

"Yeah. I know."

"Then why'd you do it?"