I might have had a little over two hours of sleep, and I was now wide awake. There was absolutely no chance in hell I’d be getting back to sleep either. My brain was already working overtime.
The soft, warm body next to me stirred, and I turned my head, staring at the shadowed outline of Dena’s face. I had one quick glimpse of her before she shifted and wiggled deeper into the covers. A low, unhappy sound escaped her, telling me that while she was still sleeping, her rest was far from restful.
That bothered me more than I thought it would.
If I stayed there, I was going to wake her.
I blew out a breath. There was no point in both of us being tired, exhausted messes when we finally managed to have our talk.
Climbing out of bed, I rummaged through the dresser in the dark. Although I rarely came here, I'd always kept clothing on hand. With only a little difficulty, I managed to find a pair of jeans and an old T-shirt. After I pulled them on, I moved to the window and stared out into the early morning. I'd grown up in the city and it still amazed me sometimes how different things looked in the dark when there weren't any city lights around.
I'd had a relatively easy life. A happy one, even. There had been one dark period, a mar in my teens, and that was what had driven me to law.
That dark period was also tied to this house, and coming back here was never...easy.
But that one incident hadn't permanently scarred or warped me, turned me into a closed-off loner. It hadn't even really made me hate this place, even with the darkness. Things had always been fairly easy for me too. I was smart, successful, and never looking for anything even close to romantically complicated.
The emotions I was dealing with now, however, were the kind I'd never had to deal with before, at least not on this level.
Rage, fear, doubt...guilt wanted to come in and play too. Not to mention all the self-recriminations for everything that happened, but I wasn’t going to start beating myself up over what I couldn't change. I couldn’t afford to, because if I let anything trip me up, next time I might not come out on top.
Next time Dena and I might not survive.
Dena…that single thought pushed me into an ugly spiral, and I dropped into a chair, staring at nothing while I relived each and every moment from the night before. I didn't know how long I spent trapped in my own thoughts, or how I might have stayed there, if Dena hadn’t stirred, a soft, shaky sigh coming from the bed.
Pulling myself out of the reverie, I looked over at her just as she started to stretch.
Fuck, she was hot.
When she rolled onto her belly and turned her head toward me, one hand sliding down the empty space where I had been sleeping next to her, I rose from the chair. I wasn't about to let her get the wrong idea.
She was pushing herself up onto her elbows as I settled down on the edge of the bed. I caught her hand in mine and lifted it to my lips. Some of that white blonde hair fell into her eyes as a sleepy, sexy smile curved her mouth.
It was in that moment, as I felt all the fear inside me melt away, replaced by a gut-wrenching warmth and need, that I let myself finally admit the truth. I had gone and fallen for her.
I could have lost her. Just the thought made me feel sick. Turning her palm upward, I pressed a kiss to the center and whispered her name.
I crawled across the bed toward her and caught her up against me, holding her. Her back to my front, I buried my face in her hair and just held on tight, needing that vital, physical reminder that we were both here, that she hadn’t been hurt. That I hadn't lost her.
That it wasn’t too late to figure out what was going on with us. After all we'd been through, I couldn't lose her just because I'd been an ass.
Rubbing my cheek against hers, I said softly, “We need to talk.”
“I know.” She craned her head around and pressed a quick, soft kiss to my lips. “That’s why I came over last night in the first place.”
For a second, I didn’t get what she meant, and then I laughed, pressing my face into her hair as I understood. Dammit. At least she wasn't still pissed at me. That meant what I had could wait.
“I’m talking personal stuff. I get the feeling you aren’t, are you?”
“No.” She wiggled around and stared at me, her face solemn in the dim light. “Personal stuff? Did last night finally convince you that this really is a bad idea?”
Her voice was light, teasing. But there was an edge to her words. My heart twisted in a way I'd never felt before.
“No.” Leaning over, I pressed my lips to hers. “No.”
A shaky sigh escaped her lips, but I couldn't tell what it meant.
“Then you must want to have a...relationship talk.”
“You’re a sharp woman, Dena Monroe. That’s really sexy.” I grinned.
She bit my lower lip. Heat tightened in me, but before I could do much about it, she pulled away, taking most of the covers with her as she slid off the bed. As she moved over to the window, I drew one knee up and braced an elbow on it, watching her.
Fuck, I could spend all day just watching her.
“I’m going to go first,” she said softly. “You’re right, you know. We do need to talk, but there’s...shit. Things are a fucking shit-storm, and personal things will have to wait. Especially after last night.”
When she turned to look at me, the expression in her eyes made the tension inside me expand. Instantly, I pushed everything else aside and focused on whatever it was she needed to tell me.
“What’s going on?”
Dena tipped her head back. “What’s going on?” she murmured, echoing my question. “Where do I start?”
She rolled her head back and forth, then reached up to rub at her neck. The blankets she had gripped in one fist sagged, allowing a glimpse of one small, firm breast. I had to force my eyes back up to her face. I knew whatever she had to say was important, but I was only human.
“I’m about to do something that’s toeing the line on some ethical boundaries, Arik. We're not going to talk about the case, so we're not quite at that crossing point, but what I'm about to tell you...”
She lapsed into silence then, and when she didn’t say anything else for a couple of minutes, I cleared my throat and she lifted an eyebrow.
“Maybe you could sit down with me while you talk,” I suggested. Sliding my gaze down, then back up, I added, “You did kind of steal all of my covers.”
“You’re dressed,” she said easily.
But then she shrugged and came back to me, so I was content. I tugged her down to straddle me and she wrapped the blankets around us both, curling one arm around my neck. She didn’t lean into me, though. She kept a few inches between us and her eyes stayed on mine.
“I knew the guy in your apartment,” she said, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. “I saw him and I knew him. The cops, they told you who he was, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. I was really hoping that the reason she knew him was because he was a wanted criminal and that was sort of her department. I brushed her hair back from her face. “I might be from Chicago, but I've never had to deal with the mafia before.”
“You don't understand, Arik. It wasn’t the first time I’ve seen him.”
Now she leaned in, pressing her forehead to mine. Her voice, her eyes, everything about her was intense, and I had a sudden flash of how she would look in court. Damn, if she put that much passion into her cases – and I knew she did – she'd be a formidable foe.
Then she was speaking again. “It took me days to place him, but last night, I figured it out.”
Again, she stopped.
I knew the expression on her face. It was the one somebody wore when they were piecing together a puzzle, and it looked like hers had a lot of pieces. Resting one hand on her thigh, I stroked up and down, and told myself I was doing a damn good job of not letting her see that I wanted to ask clarifying questions.
She’d seen him?
What the fuck, and where the fuc
k?
Had he threatened her?
Would he have hurt her?
The thought made something vicious, something I'd never felt before, rise up inside me.
Caught up in my own thoughts, when Dena started to talk again, it took me a minute to process anything she said.
“…late, almost everybody was gone…”
Giving myself a mental shake, I focused on her words. Her skin was soft under my hands, but her eyes were distant.
“When was it?” I asked when she paused.
“Just a couple of days ago. Wednesday, maybe?” She rubbed at her temples like she was getting a headache and I didn't blame her. “I was ready to just go home, call it quits.” She sighed. “I’ve been thinking more and more about just quitting.”
The expression on her face was near desperate, and I hated it. Hated all of the reasons why she was wearing it.
“I’ve always wanted to be a prosecutor. Taking some of the monsters off the streets, keeping them off so they can’t hurt the innocent.” She laughed then and it was an ugly, bitter sound. “But nobody’s innocent. Not if you ask Bethany.”
“Bethany can get fucked,” I said, irritated. I didn't want to talk about Dena's bitch of a boss.
“She does. A lot.” Dena looked at me, her eyes turbulent. “Sometimes by mafia hitman.”
I stared at her, thinking I had to have misheard her.
“Okay, can you...” I stopped and cleared my throat. “Dena, I think you need to explain that. In detail.”
“Are you asking for positions or facts or what?”
“Dena...”
“I saw them, Arik. Bethany was with that guy. I went by her office to talk to her – maybe to quit, I don't know – but she was fucking that guy. Or rather, she was being fucked by him. A distinction, I know...”
“The hitman,” I said slowly. I had to make sure I was understanding this right. “You’re telling me that Bethany McDermott, a Manhattan assistant district attorney, was fucking the guy who pulled a gun on me in my apartment. That guy?”
She nodded, clearly distressed.
Easing her off my lap, I got up and started to pace.
Fuck.
What the hell was Bethany thinking?
“That was why I came to the apartment,” she said. “To tell you all of this because I have absolutely no clue what to do.”
I turned to look at her, but she was staring at the wall. I knew she wasn’t seeing it, though. She wasn’t seeing anything at that moment, unless it was Bethany and the giant shit-storm her boss had caught her in – not to mention the danger.
“My boss is sleeping with the mafia, Arik.” She made an amused sound. “And to think I was worried about the ethics of sleeping with a defense attorney.”
Chapter 6
Dena
“What exactly do you think you're going to find?” Arik asked.
I stood in the middle of my office, arms folded around my middle as I looked around. Shooting him a look over my shoulder, I shook my head. “I don't know.”
Coming down here had been a spur of the moment idea, but now that I was here, I had no idea what to do. At least it was Saturday afternoon, which meant the place was essentially deserted. There were a few lingering paralegals and ADAs working on cases, but not enough that Arik and I really needed to worry.
I knew what I needed. Proof that Bethany had ties to the Russian mafia. Something other than the fact that I’d seen her having sex with one of their known hitmen, but beyond that? If I was going to be believed, there would need to be corroboration.
Except I wasn't sure where to start or what even to look for. I also wasn't sure who I could trust.
I sniffed, my nose starting to tingle in a familiar way. Out of habit, I glanced over to see if somebody had brought in more damn flowers, but the table by the door was empty. I rubbed at my nose, annoyed, but turned my thoughts back to the problem at hand.
I had half a mind to call one of the senior partners from my old firm. Granted, it was full of divorce lawyers, but they had connections. One of them was bound to know somebody I could trust, but first I had to find evidence.
Fuck it. There was a reason I hadn't gone into police work.
As if sensing my dilemma, Arik came up behind me and rested his hand on my shoulder. His mouth opened to say something, but before he could manage, a sneeze caught me off guard. Embarrassed, I moved away and went to the desk to dig through my purse. I didn't even have a chance to find tissues before I sneezed a second, then a third time.
“Bless you.” He almost sounded amused.
As I turned to rummage for a tissue, Arik chuckled behind me. “Don't tell me you went and developed an allergy to me.”
I might have laughed, except my eyes landed on a small vase of flowers sitting discreetly by the window.
“Oh, for crying out loud.”
I went over to grab the flowers, but another sneezing fit hit. My right hand hit the vase and it fell, glancing off the corner of the desk and shattering. Water sprayed, and if I hadn’t been busy sneezing my head off, I would have started cussing my random flower bringer to hell and back.
As it was, since I was busy sneezing, I wasn’t the one to see it.
Arik was.
I only heard a door open, close...then his hand squeezed my shoulder. Something about that gesture communicated tension rather than comfort, and as my sneezing eased, I shot him a look. He had one finger pressed to his lips. His face was serious, but when he spoke, his tone was light.
“Well, I guess I’ll save a fortune on flowers, won’t I?”
His eyes slid down. Once, twice.
Mystified, I didn't say anything, but rather glanced down and saw his hand. He held it out, palm up. There was something inside it. Was that...?
Oh shit.
Again, Arik pressed his finger to his lips. Casually, he said, “I dumped the flowers in the trash across the hall. Why don’t we step outside, let you breathe some fresh air?”
My entire body was tense, and I was full of questions, but I had to assume the device – the bug – Arik had in his hand was still transmitting to something, somewhere. He dumped the bug into the trash in my office, along with the remains of the vase, and led me into the hallway, his hand on my back.
Once we were out in the hall, I started to walk faster, needing to be away. Arik followed. I didn't have a conscious destination in mind, but a few minutes later, I stood in front of Bethany's office.
Logically, there was no reason why I'd stopped there. It wasn’t like she was here. The one thing I did know was that if Bethany was in bed with the mob – insinuation definitely intended – they wouldn't need to bug her office, so if there was any place in the whole building that wouldn’t be compromised, it would be here.
I tried to open her door, but of course, it was locked.
As I started to turn away, though, Arik crowded up against me, his voice casual as he said, “I don’t think she’s going to be in, but it can’t hurt to…”
He spoke in a voice louder than necessary for our proximity, and I shot a look up at him. He stood too close for such a public place, and I went to step away, but he caught my arm.
That was when I saw he was busy with his right hand. His body blocked most of his actions, and he tugged me in to hide what he was doing.
“Son of a bitch,” I whispered, shocked and furious at the same time. What the hell was he thinking?
Apparently, he was thinking that he knew what he was doing. In under five seconds, he had the door open.
“What do you know, the boss must be in.” He gave me a brilliant smile and turned his head as he caught my arm and pulled me into Bethany’s empty office.
“You crazy son of a bitch,” I said to his back as he locked the door behind him.
He looked at me, a cagey grin on his face. It was so far removed from anything else I'd ever seen from him that it caught me off-guard.
“Two questions — one, how did you learn how to ji
mmy locks? Two, are you planning on defending us both when we get caught?” I demanded.
“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, Ms. Monroe.” Arik looked at me, his face the picture of innocence.
For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of what he must've looked like as a child, getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I felt safe in assuming that he'd gotten away with a lot, and not just because he came from a rich family.
His grin softened. “The door was open. We came inside, hoping Bethany might be in, and now we’re sitting down, patiently waiting since we assumed she wouldn't leave her door unlocked.”
Whatever he’d used to pick the lock had disappeared back wherever it came from in the first place.
Growling, I turned to storm back out into the hall, but then stopped, remembering the reason I'd come here in the first place.
“We are so fucked,” I whispered, lifting my face to the ceiling.
Sooner or later, Bethany was going to go down, and because I was one of her ADAs, I would be guilty by association. My career would be over.
“We're going to be fine.” His voice was surprisingly gentle. “Bethany is messing with people’s lives, Dena. She’s not just screwing with the justice system – and that pisses me off probably as much as it does you – but she’s putting people's lives at risk.”
I turned toward him and he came to me then, lifting a hand to cradle my cheek. I couldn't stop myself from leaning into the touch.
“Are you willing to take some chances and stop her?”
“Hey, I came to your place yesterday, didn’t I? And I didn't freak out with the breaking and entering. Not too much, anyway.” With a rueful grin, I stepped away and stared at my boss’ office. “So…where do we start? I don’t think we’re going to find a neatly organized calendar itemized with things like…screwing the hitman on Wednesday…destroying an innocent woman’s life on Thursday...”
Not even fifteen minutes had passed when a noise came from the hallway.
Panicked, I shot a look to Arik and he grabbed my arm, hauling me to the chairs. “Remember,” he said, his voice low as he slowly unlocked the door. “The door was open. And it was for you, so you're not lying. That’s all you need to focus on. You came looking for Bethany. Just keep your head and we'll get through this. I promise.”