Page 21 of Sinful Deception

“He’s a total pussy cat.” Teasing, she wrinkles her nose and turns toward the elevators. We’re one floor and about a hundred yards from where Jada is sleeping… or, ya know, in a medically induced coma. But those would be semantics, too, I guess. “Mayor Lawrence is one of the fairest men I know,” she explains. “I like working alongside him when the opportunity arises. It’s rare, but when it comes, I would never dare pass the chance up.”

“Thanks for your help.” I stop in front of the elevator and smack the call button, then I look at both of them, one lawyer and one jill of all trades. But mostly, I speak to Soph. “I appreciate how quickly you were able to cut to the chase and have me ruled out of the investigation. I barely have time to scratch my ass right now, and I still haven’t told my daughter what’s happened to her mom. So, dealing with the cops and making it so they’re no longer an issue for me is helpful. I appreciate it.”

“A friend of Minka’s is a friend of mine.” Smirking, Soph steps into the elevator and turns to watch me follow, but then she moves forward and bars Egbert’s entrance. “Would you mind catching the next one, Mr. Alexander? I’d like to discuss our health and well-being findings with Detective Fletcher. That would, obviously, require privacy.”

“Of course.” He slides his glasses higher on his nose and waves. Five fingers and his palm, presented with eagerness. He’s a fifty-year-old boy scout. And perhaps, he has a crush on the beautiful Asa. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.” He takes a step back but meets my eyes. “I’ll make myself available to you if and when you need it, Detective Fletcher.”

“Thank you.” I drop my head and wait as the doors slowly slide closed. Then I look to my left and study the side of Soph’s face. “You practically neutered the man.”

“But I was entirely pleasant in doing so. I’ve hurt larger men in ways they won’t ever recover from. Unfortunately, I probably wasn’t getting into that room without Mr. Alexander’s presence. Well…” she amends playfully. “I’m sure I could have. But I chose the path of least resistance. So…?”

I lower my gaze and stare at the speckled floor. “So, what?”

“You didn’t slip your phone and watch off and actually sneak out to hurt your ex, did you?”

I snarl and bring my eyes up again. “No! Was the thing about the bodega footage less factual than you presented, Sophia? Was it not Nathan? Because if it’s bogus, you just got me in more fuckin’ trouble.”

“No, it was him. But who’s to say you weren’t inside the house already? Or that you’d ordered the hit?”

“I didn’t. Believe it or not, but no matter how fucking angry I get, I’m trying to save her so my daughter can grow up and say, ‘Yeah, they had it hard, but they did it right. For me. That’s how loved I am.’”

“Noble.” She taunts, too fucking playfully. “But as a woman married to a former addict, I’m here to tell you she has to want it, and she has to have the willpower to stick to it. No matter how accommodating you are, and no matter how many times you swoop in and toss her inside a rehab clinic, if she wants her next hit, then she isn’t gonna choose nobility over crack.”

“Great.” I start forward the very second our elevator stops on our floor, exiting the steel cube and moving fast enough I might be able to lose the too-involved Sophia Solomon.

But, of course, I couldn’t be so lucky.

“I’m just saying,” she catches up easily, “it’s time you start focusing on you and your daughter. Someday, if Jada gets through all this and comes out healthy on the other side, then she can take up her position as Mia’s mother and provide a stable and healthy parental figure.If. And only when she’s clean. But until that point, all thissavingyou’re doing is nothing more than beating a dead horse with a stick, and that stick is full of splinters that are cuttingyourhand. You’re making yourself bleed for someone who isn’t healthy enough to even notice, let alone appreciate it. And when you bleed, your daughter bleeds.”

“You done?” I come to a sharp stop and look down at the ballerina whose husband pushes away from the wall, which just so happens to be outside Jada’s room. He’s tall, broad, tattooed,and willing to kill even a cop if he looks at her wrong. “I’ve heard this speech before, Solomon. You think I don’t know this is hopeless? You think I don’t feel the pain and wooziness of blood loss every fucking day?”

“So why keep doing it?” She holds the strap of her bag between her hands and gazes up at me, smiling, because she’s never afraid of anything. No man. No matter how tall he stands or how many guns he wears over his chest. “Call me a cynic, but it almost sounds like you have an addiction, too. An addiction to being the good guy. You want her to get better, butJesus, you want to be the one they say saved her.”

“Thanks,” I drawl. “You’re my lawyer, health coach,andtherapist, all in a single day. Multi-talented woman.”

“I am multi-talented,” she agrees arrogantly. “But I’m also sitting on the outside of this ridiculous mess, and I can see things you think others don’t notice. You’re begging to be the hero in this one, but there are no trophies, Detective. You don’t get a medal at the end. You just… You need to release the rope.”

“The…” Confused, I frown. “What?”

“The rope. Consider this—whatever it is you and Jada have—a game of tug of war. She pulls on her end of the rope, and you pull on yours. Some days, she’s winning, and some days you’re winning. Some days, she’s feeling good, and others, she’s clearing out your medicine cabinet and, soon after, getting the shit beat out of her for not paying her dealer on time. It’s a shitty game, and in the end, no one really wins because beating this other person you claim to love isn’t winning at all. It’s defeating the person you say you’re helping.”

“Listen, Sophia?—”

“But if you release the rope, the game ends. She can’t tug on you anymore if you’re not holding on. And you won’t be caught up in this bullshit if there’s nothing left tethering you to her.”

“Mia is left,” I grit out. “My daughter. You say I should forget Jada? Like she’s someone I met once a lifetime ago and doesn’t matter anymore? But she is half of my daughter’s DNA. How the fuck do you expect me to let that go?”

“Because Mia is halfyourDNA, too. And right now, both of her parents are drowning. Surely, letting one drown is better than both?”

“Code!” Machines beep and lights blink along the ward. Jada’s room number flashes onto tiny screens, and just like that, nurses mobilize.

“Shit!” I practically toss Sophia aside and sprint toward Jada’s door, but Archer bolts out first, expecting me, maybe, and slams his hands to my shoulders, holding me back. Nurses run to Jada’s bed, shouting orders amongst themselves. Sera plasters herself to the wall, pale-faced and wide-eyed, while Aubree and Minka stand too close. Helping, but not. They allow the nurses, and when a doctor enters the room, him too, to do their jobs. But they watch on and nod their approval when a cart is wheeled through the door, and a humming sounds all the way to the hall.

“Fletch!” Archer shakes me, tearing me back to him, to now, when I realize him saying my name was not the first word he’s spoken. “Back up!”

“What happened?” I hardly fight him, but I let him hold me up as the nurses tear Jada’s gown open, revealingtoo muchof her. But it’s not erotic. There’s nothing pleasurable in seeing her like this—when her belly and chest are black and blue. The skin over her ribs is bright red in some spots and grazed in others. Someone rubs paddles together while everyone else shouts words I don’t fucking know.

But I’ve seen movies. I’ve watched TV shows.

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