Page 23 of Ice-Cold Truth

“We’re not asking you to abandon your ethics or anything,” he says, as if reading my mind. “Just…maybe find a way to do your job without dragging the whole team into it, you know? There has to be a middle ground.”

I chew my lip, mulling over his words. As much as it pains me, I can’t deny the truth in what he’s saying. Is there a way to pursue this case while still protecting those uninvolved? A chance to have my cake and eat it too, so to speak?

Before I can formulate a response, another voice cuts through my musings. “You in here, Elyse?”

Jack appears in the doorway, his broad shoulders seeming to fill the frame. His eyes find mine, holding my gaze with an inscrutable expression. I’m struck by just how imposing he can be—a force of nature contained within that muscular frame.

I straighten instinctively, squaring my shoulders as if bracing for battle. “I’m here.”

Sam’s gaze darts between us, and he runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll just…I need to feed the cat.” He gets up from the bed and rushes from the room to feed an imaginary cat neither he nor Jack own.

Jack steps fully into the room, his movements fluid yet powerful. Like a great cat stalking its prey. He comes to a stop before me, arms folded across his chest. “We need to talk.”

The words are simple but heavy. There’s an undercurrent of tension and unresolved conflict simmering between us. Part of me wants to lash out, to insist he has no right to tell me what to do or dictate my career choices.

But another part wants nothing more than to throw myself into his embrace, to lose myself in the solace of his powerful arms and let him chase away the doubts and fears swirling within me. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry as cotton. “So talk.”

His jaw tightens slightly before he speaks. “I know you’ve been tasked with digging into Firebird business as part of your internship, and I get that you’re just doing your job.” His gaze bores into me, as if willing me to understand. “But you need to back off, Elyse. This is bigger than some silly internship or a chance to impress your bosses.”

The words are like a physical blow, stealing my breath. My cheeks flush with a combination of anger and humiliation as Sam’s earlier sentiment is echoed so bluntly by Jack’s lips. Is that truly all he thinks this is? Just a chance for me to puff out my chest and show off? That I’d use him and his team to advance my career?

Hurt lances through me, quickly followed by a surge of defiance. Who is he to diminish my aspirations with such callous disregard? This internship means everything to me. It’s the first step on the path I’ve been striving for my entire life.

“You don’t understand,” I say, struggling to keep my tone even. “This is my career we’re talking about, Jack. My future. I can’t just abandon that on your say-so.”

Jack’s eyes narrow fractionally. “Can’t you, though? When the alternative is exposing things that could hurt a lot of innocent people?”

His words give me pause, Sam’s earlier warning ringing in my ears. As much as I want to rail against his arrogance and high-handed dismissal of something so precious to me…I can’t deny the truth of what he’s saying.

By pursuing this case against Reginald Mathews and the Firebirds, I could very well implicate those who had no part inany wrongdoing. Players like Sam, who were simply following orders, unaware of any unethical practices.

Yet how unaware could they be? They must have known Vince was hurt and playing when he shouldn’t have. That’s disturbing, but could any of them have done anything even if they were aware of the situation? Other than staging a mass refusal to play, I can’t think of a way any individual players could effect change for Vince.

The questions swirl in my mind, making me queasy. How can I reconcile my principles with the prospect of harming those closest to me?

I must look as stricken as I feel because his expression softens ever-so-slightly. He steps close enough for me to catch the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“I’m not saying abandon your dreams, Elyse. I’m just asking you to find another way. One that doesn’t put innocent people at risk.”

Dammit. He and Sam are right. As painful as it is to admit, I can’t pursue this case in good conscience using the methods Mr. Kobin wants me to if it means jeopardizing those uninvolved.

Like a deflating balloon, I feel the fight go out of me. My shoulders slump as I raise my gaze to meet Jack’s intense stare. “What do you want me to do?” It feels wrong to be asking him that, but I genuinely don’t know how to proceed, and I’m trusting him to give me good advice.

His calloused fingertips graze my jaw. The simple touch sends a shiver down my spine. “Be honest with your bosses,” he says simply. “Tell them you can’t be involved in this case due to the conflict of interest. They’ll understand. Good lawyers always avoid even the appearance of impropriety.”

His thumb traces the curve of my jaw, and I have to resist the urge to lean into his touch. “Get them to give you other work,other cases to cut your teeth on. Ones that don’t put you at odds with the people you…care about.”

The unspoken words hang in the air between us, heavy with meaning. People I care about. Is that all we are? Just people who care for each other? Or is there more simmering beneath the surface, waiting to be stoked into an all-consuming blaze?

I hold his gaze for a long moment, searching the molten depths of those gray eyes. What I find there both thrills and terrifies me—a spark of the same longing that courses through my veins.

At last, I give the smallest of nods. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll talk to them first thing tomorrow.” I expect to feel irritated for giving in to pressure from both Jack and Sam, so it’s a surprise to feel mostly relief mixed with a little dread about speaking to my bosses.

My reaction tells me I’m doing the right thing, even if it’s contrary to everything I’ve learned as a woman—to make my own decisions and never let a man influence me. Maybe there’s more nuance to some situations than I considered and couldn’t understand until actually experiencing one.

The words seem to relax something within him. His shoulders lose their taut line as he exhales slowly, the sound stirring the fine hairs at my temple. “Thank you,” he says, so low I almost don’t catch it.

Before I can react, he leans in and presses a whisper of a kiss to my forehead. It’s over in a heartbeat, leaving me dazed and reeling in its wake. When I finally find my voice, Jack has already turned and started for the door. “Jack, wait…”

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