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I survey him with narrowed eyes, taking in the expensive haircut and porcelain veneers as he smiles. “I know you weren’t assigned by the state. Did my father hire you?”
“Not exactly.” The lawyer drums his fingers on the table. “I apologize. We skipped the introductions. I’m Jack Deguerre, Esquire. Of Howey, Chapman and Deguerre, of course.”
He says it like I should recognize his name. And I do, even though his firm isn’t the one that my father has on retainer to handle his financial affairs. Howey, Chapman and Deguerre are famous for getting the worst criminals acquitted for crimes that everyone knows they committed. They’re sharks, known for representing mob bosses and celebrities who break bad. One of their most recent wins was getting off a former football player whose dead girlfriend was found in the trunk of his car.
Jack Deguerre probably charges thousands of dollars for an hour of his time, and he is probably worth every penny.
But I don’t need to look this gift horse in the mouth to know it has razor-sharp teeth.
“Who hired you?” I ask again, voice harder this time.
He gives me a droll look. “I think you already know that.”
My gaze moves over the breast of his suit. A hint of dark gold glints from the collar, the pin almost entirely hidden by his lapel.
That damn skull with its lotus flower eye.
Havoc House. More specifically, whichever of the alumni had me arrested.
This isn’t the alumni throwing me a life preserver. It’s a shakedown.
I study him wearily as I wait for the other shoe to drop. “Are you planning to get me out of here?”
He smooths down his tie and then leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. “That depends on how this conversation goes.”
My gaze flicks to the mirror because I’m more than a little convinced there isn’t an empty room on the other side of it. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“I’m a lawyer, son. There is nothing we hate more than spelling things out.”
“Give it a try,” I respond tightly.
Instead of answering, Jack pulls a file folder out of his briefcase. He opens it and flips through pages, making a show of reading even though he must already know what they say. “You’ve got yourself in a whole world of trouble here, boy. According to this, a girl was assaulted and raped at St. Bart’s last year and she just ID’ed you as the one responsible. Eyewitness reports place you at the scene and the 911 call came in from your phone. I don’t have access to the recording yet, but something tells me I’ll hear your voice when I do. This is looking more and more like an open and shut case, if it ever goes to trial.” He laughs unpleasantly. “That little stunt with the video must have really pissed her off if she is going after you like this.”
A sick sort of feeling starts up in the pit of my stomach. I’ve skipped every meal since I got to the jail, so I know it isn’t something I ate. Gigi never would have pointed her finger at me, even if the alumni threatened to break it off. Something strange is happening here and it might be even worse than I imagined.
I brush that off for now, refusing to give Jack any more ammunition than he already has. “That almost sounds like not going to trial is an option.”
“I’m paid to make sure there are always multiple options to consider,” he replies with a shark-toothed smile. “Actually, I’m confident that I can make all of this go away.”
I already know that nothing in this world comes for free. If Jack planned to get me out of jail with no strings attached, he would have already done it. “Then what’s stopping you?”
“In under an hour, you could walk out of here a free man. There’s a good chance you’ll even make it back to St. Bart’s before classes start.”
My breath huffs out in a humorless laugh. “But?”
Jack sighs as if I’m being difficult. “But I — we — are going to need some assurances.”
“What kind of assurances?”
“Nothing onerous,” he remarks with a patient sigh. “We only really want you to go back to your life of carefree college shenanigans before you take the high-powered job I’m sure is waiting for you. We want you to have the future that your last name has promised you. Focus on that. Only that. Stop digging up things that are better off buried. Forget about anything unfortunate from the past that needs to stay buried right where it is. In. The. Past.”
Forget that someone in Havoc House ordered the assault of an innocent girl because she didn’t want to play along with whatever they had planned. Forget that I’ve allied myself with monsters for personal gain.
A year ago, I wouldn’t have seen any of this as my problem. It’s not possible to fix the entire world, which makes it easy to ignore all the small injustices that might actually be under your control. Why sacrifice yourself when the wider corruption isn’t going anywhere?
But the old me was a selfish prick.
I point at the folder. “Just to be clear. You want all of that to stay buried.”
