Page 91 of Crimson Love

“Dammit, Payne. Are we all missing something here? Give it to her straight,” Devon demands.

“Look, if you can’t take her on as a client, I’ll find someone else who will,” Jett bites.

Payne tosses his pen to his notepad where he’s been writing as fast as I’ve been talking. He’s got at least four to five pages of my last six years of history documented.

He points at me.

I suck in an anxious breath.

He finally gives it to me straight. “You’re my favorite kind of client.”

I exhale quickly. “I am?”

Jett wraps his arm around my shoulders possessively. “Watch it, Deacon. What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Payne smirks at Jett. “Look who got a new lease on life and found love in the same breath. I heard you fell hard. Settle down there, lover boy. I’m not going to steal your girlfriend at recess. But she’s still my favorite kind of client.” Payne focuses those whiskey eyes on me. “Guilty as sin, and still, innocent. You’re like a wet dream for any defense attorney.”

“A defense attorney who needs to find new analogies,” Jett growls.

Payne’s smile turns into a wolfish grin directed at Jett. “All that jealousy can’t be good for your new organ. Your body needs to process that extra angst one way or another, man. Don’t make it work harder than it needs to.”

Devon leans forward. “Can we get to the meat of things? It’s been a bloody long day. Right before Petrov was taken into custody, I got the report from the security firm I hired about someone hacking into my system, setting off the alarms, and causing havoc among my guests.”

Payne looks at Devon. “Why are you here, anyway? It seems Jett has the jealous and protective thing taken care of.”

“Because I give a shit about my employees and want to make sure Lennon is free and clear after this.” Devon motions to Jett. “Trust me, I know Jett’s got it under control.”

I can’t take this any longer. “Can we just get back to the part where you said I was guilty as sin? That doesn’t sound good.”

Payne leans forward on his forearms and gets down to it. “You killed a man and just told me you stole a car. Guilty-guilty. They might have you on video taking that asshole’s life, but what else is on the video is him beating the shit out of you. I haven’t seen it yet, but from the way you and Mr. Possessive over here describe it, I can only guess how bad it was.” The longer he speaks, his tone becomes more and more incensed with every word. “You were fighting for your freedom. You were fighting to stay alive. You were fighting to save yourself, because there was no one else on the planet at the time to fight for you. When I finally see the video, I have all I need to move forward. Should this ever go to court—and I doubt it will— no judge will move forward with prosecution. This will be dismissed fast enough to make your head spin.”

I let out a relieved sigh. “Seriously?”

Payne frowns. “Are you questioning me?”

I shake my head. “Sorry. I’m perpetually in shock... about everything. What about the money they deposited into an account to make it look like I was there willingly working for him?”

Payne leans back in his chair and waves me off. “You’ve got a man who plays with Russian oligarchs, cartel leaders, and invests in drug runners. Then there’s you, who finished your freshman year of college and disappeared off the face of the earth. Your father withdrew you from school, and no one’s seen you since. No doctor’s appointments. Hell, not even a nail appointment—if you’re that kind of woman. If the account is even real, that’s the last thing I’m worried about. The car is another thing. Who knows you stole it?”

“I prefer the word borrowed. It makes me feel better about myself,” I mutter. “A few people.”

Jett continues to click off my long list of problems. “And there’s Clive. I told him she didn’t know it was stolen when she bought it. I’ll make sure it’s returned. It’ll be like a gift for the owner when all is said and done. When Clive is done with the car, he can look at my truck since it’s fucked up from the other night.”

Payne whistles low. “I heard about that.”

Jett looks to Devon. “Are there no secrets in this town?”

“Only if your name is Lennon. She managed to keep her past under wraps for months after she got here since I saw no reason to run her background,” Devon says.

Payne digs a card out of his pocket and flips it across the table at me. “Do not talk to anyone about any of this. If someone wants to question you, don’t even fart without me at your side. I don’t care if it’s Mr. Bigshot or his agent friends from Miami. I’ve known Dean my entire life, but he’s a cop, and we’ve all got our respective jobs to do. And unless a video pops up of you stealing that car, do not admit to that. Got it? Don’t turn into a difficult client on me.”

I sigh. “Sorry. Anything else?”

“Nope. Consider yourself officially lawyered up.” He leans back in his chair and turns to Devon. “Let’s get to the juicy stuff. I want to know who managed to hack into the system of the secret British agent.”

Devon drags a hand down his face. “We don’t know who yet, but we do know how. My firewall was breached. I fired my security company and hired a guy out of Dallas who my sister recommended.”

“It’s not Statum Security, is it?” Payne asks.