Page 48 of Nothing to Beat

“You must still be close if you’re living in their building.”

“These days I talk more to Zairn than to Rox.He kind of keeps a lid on things for her.She needs him in a way she never needed me.Not in a dependent type way, they complement each other.He takes care of the details, she focuses on bullshit he’d rather not deal with.She’s amazing for the brand, plays to it, I think.”

“I’ve got to say she fits in with his set so well, sometimes better than him.It’s a relief for him to just sit back and watch her work.No one works a room as well as her.”Or so she’d heard.“She’s a natural.”

“Cares though, more than people think.The frivolous thing works sometimes, but if she needs to switch it on, she can.I remember the night she heard about the fire at my apartment.Man, was she pissed I’d taken on the Gambatto case.And this was after we were broken up.Even still, she called as soon as she heard, read me the riot act.Would’ve done anything to get me to give it up.”

After they were broken up.Huh.That was something.In college, there had been guys, boyfriends, but her relationship with Breck was unique.She’d never cared for another man the way she did for him.From that aspect, she had no frame of reference.Love for Breck was automatic and the care came by default.If she found out he was putting himself in danger, she’d go nuts too.Casual college hookups, the men before him, didn’t inspire that same fervor.

If Porter proposed to Roxie, the relationship must’ve been serious.Feelings didn’t go away overnight.No matter how acrimonious or amicable the split, Roxie hadn’t hesitated to call Porter and let him know she was worried.No, more than that, the riot act suggested anger, panic.The man had once been the most important in her life, and Roxie hadn’t switched that off.Maybe their love took on a different hue, but it was still love.

Was that enough?Had Porter shown enough trust to gain hers?If she didn’t want Roxie or Tripp to know about this meeting, she didn’t have a lot of time to sit and shoot the shit.

Big breath.“My father has five safe deposit boxes.”

The physical paper didn’t have to be handed over yet.Baby steps.

Porter stiffened just a little, adopting a stance that betrayed his transfer to work mode.“In the city?”

“Not all of them.”In both hands, she held the sheets a little closer to her chest.“I have a file in New York, if I’d known we were coming here…”

Would she have brought it?Probably not.She barely looked at the heavy weight it represented.Roxie did the right thing keeping their destination secret.If she’d known Chicago was their goal, she wouldn’t have got on the plane.Now she was there, it might work out for the best.Emphasis on themight.In her family, the unpredictable flared whenever it felt like it.

“We can arrange to pick up—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and putting the papers on the desk.Not for him, not yet.“I’ve written down as much as I can remember.When I’m back in New York, if there’s anything I’ve missed…”

“Did you take it from him?The file?Does it belong to your father?”

“No.”She swallowed.“It’s mine.”And her burden to bear alone, until now anyway.“As a teenager, when I learned more about what my father did and how dangerous he was, our relationship…”

“Soured?”

Good word.“Yes.I didn’t want to be a Gambatto if it meant hurting people.”And worse.“The way he treated people… There were different versions of him, sometimes I didn’t see the same one twice in a day.There was no reasoning with him, no understanding, no compassion.I didn’t want to live my life that way.Being a Gambatto, all that came with it…” This was irrelevant.She was rambling.“Anyway, I started collecting what I could, little things, taking notes, no gotcha moments exactly, but there are things I know, things that might help.”

“Because if he’s in prison, he can’t influence your relationship with the man you mentioned.”

Influence.Something her father craved.Much as she didn’t want to admit it, some part of her had to concede his influence wouldn’t leave her completely, even if he was encased in concrete walls.As for her and Breck?She’d always kept her father as far from her personal life as possible, but wasn’t naïve enough to think he didn’t keep tabs on her when it suited him.

After all this time, he wouldn’t expect her to turn against him.No, that wasn’t right, he’d known they were against each other since her teen years.But to actively do something that would hurt him?He’d doubt she had the ability.Maybe she didn’t.Maybe nothing she’d collected would mean anything or help the prosecution.Still, she had to try.

“I want freedom to have a future.One that doesn’t end in prison or hiding.You know, Joey’s an asshole who deserves to be punished, but he’s also who he is because of my father.Yes, he’s taken it too far and can never be forgiven, but our father wormed his way into our psyche’s young.”

Like brainwashing or grooming.Once upon a time, she’d worshipped her father, looked up at him with adoring eyes, beholding him as the best of humanity.Naïveté reigned when she played with dolls and tea sets.It was whittled down piece by piece until the moment it struck her that he was the worst of men.Despite his actions being the cause, she carried so much shame for the association.Like blood stained her skin, she could scrub and scrub, but it would always come right back.

“Trish is immune,” Porter said.

That was supposed to be optimistic, to make her feel better?Too bad she disagreed.

“No—” Except it wasn’t her place.“I suppose I shouldn’t speak in absolutes, it’s been a long time since we talked.Maybe you’re right.Could be she’s had a whole personality transplant.”

And who knew what Trish had endured that immunized her to their father’s hegemony.

“I wouldn’t say that.She’s vibrant.He hasn’t broken her, this hasn’t broken her.”

“How often do you see her?”

An exhaled laugh joined the whisper of a smile.“I don’t know if I should answer that.I have to be conscious of her safety.”

---