AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Then what is it that you actually do? You didn’t want to get the police involved, so there must be a reason,” she asks as she takes another large sip of her coffee.
I lean back in my office chair, gazing down at her with curiosity. “Why are you so curious about what I do?”
She hesitates, putting her coffee down and sitting up straight with her legs crossed. “I’m a journalist. I interviewed one of your former associates in the Hudson Correctional Facility.”
My blood runs cold.
“You spoke with Joe Filizetti?”
She nods gravely, knowingly. “Look up his interview with Iris Washington. That’s me.”
“What did he say about me? That fucking bastard.”
She shrugs a little, trying too hard to act casual as we discuss the man who had my father killed. “He said enough, to be honest. Enough for me to be suspicious of you.”
My blood runs cold. What was she doing at the warehouse in the first place? Was she investigating me?
It’s clear that I need to be careful with this woman from now on. I have no idea what her intentions are, and so far, she’s too knowledgeable about my work for my liking.
But when I think about it, I know that I might be mistaking this as a threat when I’m being offered a rare opportunity. Joe Filizetti might have had my father killed, but he also ruined my family’s reputation entirely. Everywhere my name appears, I’m being likened to the very men I set out to kill last night. My father was a man of greed and corruption to the highest degree, and I need to have myself exonerated of his legacy.
“I’m nothing like those guys. I need you to understand that. Really, I need you to internalize it. In fact, I’d invite you to do your own investigation of me and my practices to make sure that I’m never associated with those sick fucks ever again,” I say, sitting up straighter in my chair right before she hands me her empty mug.
“You want me to investigate you? To what end?” she asks with distrust. “Why would you open yourself up to something like that when you know I’ll find illegal activity?”
“Because I know you’re not going to go to the cops with it. I need someone, anyone, in this city to see me for who I am without my father’s shadow eclipsing my own identity. I’m not him, and my business and reputation have suffered because of his business dealings.”
She thinks to herself for a moment, wondering what kind of life she’s going to go back to if she were to turn down my offer.
“What do I get out of this? I mean, I’ll be helping to exonerate you in the public eye, at least to a point. Being involved with you will put me at risk in ways I probably can’t even imagine,” she replies, pulling her legs up to her chest. Her pants are just a little too tight for her to be sitting this way without her pussy lips pressing against the middle seam, and my mind runs wild all over again.
I think for a moment, wondering what kind of compensation I could offer her that would make this endeavor worth it to her. Money is no object, and I doubt she makes enough to turn me down in the first place, but her safety is probably worth more to her than a monetary payment.
“I can offer you protection, especially from the men that captured you last night. All of the men present were killed, as you saw, but those types are like roaches. Where there are a few, dozens more are hiding in the walls,” I reply, getting up to make her another cup of charlatan coffee.
She thinks for a moment, allowing her eyes to go out of focus as her brain catches up with the world around her again. She’s still hazy from the drugs, so I can’t expect a solid answer from her anyway, but I’ll wait patiently while she contemplates my offer. I’d be shocked if she turned it down due to journalistic integrity. Nobody has that much journalistic integrity.
“You know what? Okay. I’ll do it,” she replies. “Joe Filizetti was a terrifying person to interview. Most of those guys were nice enough that I could overlook their past a bit, even becoming friends with them. Joe was different. I wouldn’t want his face coloring my reputation either.”
I feel a wave of relief wash over me without even knowing why. I haven’t been promised a good product or outcome at all. But somehow, I’m able to trust this girl despite my doubts. She has such a warmth to her, even as she climbs out of a GHB coma. She feels like the kind of person who wouldwantto help me clear my name.
“So, how is this going to work? I imagine you’ll need to keep me close by so I can get all the gritty, uncut details from you,” she says, attempting to stand up from her blanket nest and giving up halfway up the wall. She falls back into it, her eyes closing sleepily as she pulls her legs back up to her chest again.
I allow her to drift back into a form of sleep for the time being, understanding the intense toll that these drugs have taken on her body. However, without the threat of her watchful eyes on me, it’s impossible not to stare between her legs at the imprint of her vulva again. How can she be so unselfconscious around me, a man she’s never met? Does she even know that I can see so much of her to begin with?
I try to pry my eyes away, but I struggle immensely. I’d give anything to see what she looks like naked, lying there on my blankets, ready to take me into her. I’m certain that she looks stunning based on the way her clothes drape over her, and the possibility of never finding out fills me with a crawling, unfulfilled need under my skin. It feels the way I’ve always felt the day after a cocaine binge - that vicious, persistent gnawing taking over my mind and body.
As she drifts back to sleep, I stop to consider the ramifications of allowing her to stay in my house with me. I haven’t had a woman living in my house since Elise left six years ago, and I haven’t entertained the idea since. However, Iris is right. I need to keep her as close as possible.
5
Iris
When I wake up from my second nap, I’m greeted by the same face that struck the fear of God into me when I was standing frozen on that platform. I jump at the sight of him, my heart racing in my chest as my brain catches up to reality again.
“Damn, am I that scary?” he says, offering me a hand to help me up from my temporary blanket bet.
How corny.
