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I need to see you.
Not what I was expecting after the way we parted today, but not unwanted either. I’ll always be an addicted fool for Audrey Kennedy.
Tomorrow in my office? Say ten am?
The response is instant like she was holding her phone in her hand waiting for my reply. The thought causes a thrill to shoot up my spine.
I need to see you in private, as soon as possible. Tonight? I could come to you?
I hesitate, not wanting to break that barrier between home and work, but then, that ship has sailed as I’m married to the woman texting me. Tia is in bed and never wakes once she’s out, so I won’t have to deal with explaining who Audrey is to Tia.
Fine. Say an hour. I’ll send you my address.
No need. I have it.
Fucking Ryker and his nosey ass snooping.
Fine.
I want to say more, I want to ask her what this is about, what’s so important, but I also know that Audrey will only tell me when she’s ready. Yet I sense an urgency in her texts, which is unusual for her.
I tidy up, my mind playing over every memory from last night as they become clearer and clearer. Touching her, kissing her, holding her hand. Her suggesting we just get hitched and fuck the consequences. I knew at the time, still lucid enough for her comment to bring me up short, that it was a bad idea. But as she took my hand and dragged me to the nearest jeweler, her hand warm in mine, the hot honey of her laughter coating my skin, I let myself get carried away.
I knew the moment I saw that princess-cut diamond it would be perfect for her, and the pink diamond wedding band was everything I remembered about Audrey the girl. Delicate, glamorous, and, despite the pink color, classy.
Deciding that, if left alone, the next forty-five minutes will be spent pacing and overthinking, I head to my office to draw up the papers in case she wants them tonight.
I open my laptop and see a message from Cutter Hendrix, my sort of private detective, stroke, fixer. Opening the email, I see the attachment and the wordsthis is what you need.
My heart beats faster as I open the attachment and see the file with all the incriminating data I need to take this bastard down. Smiling, I take the burner phone from my locked drawer and hit dial on the only number in the phone. It rings twice before a voice answers.
“It must be important if you’re calling me on your honeymoon, Carmichael. A woman like that in my bed, and I wouldn’t be seen for weeks.”
It takes every ounce of control I have not to react to his words, but I know a reaction is what he’s looking for. That and information.“You know me, old friend, I’m not one to let anything get in the way of the work we do.”
A deep baritone chuckle peels down the line and I wait. I hate myself for talking about Audrey like she doesn’t matter, but he can’t know who she is to me or what she means. He’ll use it to manipulate me. That is just who he is, who I am in some ways. But we’re not alike, we just have the same focus.
Lorenzo Abruzzo is head of the Italian Mafia, and I’m the lowly lawyer who dragged himself from the slums, but we have a common goal. To take down as many men who hurt women as we can, whether that’s by helping the women start new lives away from abuse, or by removing the problem.
That is our only commonality. I don’t work for him, and I have nothing to do with his business or personal life, but we both lost women we love to abusive men. It’s why he fought to take over as the head of his family, killing family members to do so, and why I lead this double life, walking a fine line between law-abiding and law-breaking.
“And very sweet distraction, I suspect.”
“I have the file we need.” I change the subject, focusing on the reason for the call and steering it away from Audrey.
“Oh, and what does it say?”
“This one is bad. He got the girl pregnant and, when she told him she was pregnant, he had her killed.”
Lorenzo swears in Italian, his hatred for men Like Fletcher Stubbins is almost as vicious as mine.
“How do you wish to play this, Lorenzo?”
My personal preference is to end the man’s pitiful life, but he has a wife and daughter who adore him, and, by all accounts, he treats them well. Which is more common than I would’ve thought when I began this crusade.
“Your way. If I change my mind, I can have him dealt with on the inside.”
“As you wish. I’ll send the file to the Feds, and they can deal with him.”
