Page 43 of Sly Like a Fox
I consider the question while navigating the final blocks to my apartment building.What do I want?For three years, the answer has been justice for my family, regardless of personal cost.Now, the answer is more complicated.“I want Anklor to pay for what he did to my parents and everyone else he’s destroyed over the years, but I also want a future with you that doesn’t involve constantly looking over our shoulders or wondering if today is the day his associates decide we know too much.”
She looks doubtful.“Those two things might not be mutually exclusive.”
“They might not be compatible, either.”
We reach my building and take the elevator to my apartment in contemplative silence.The evidence folder feels heavy in my jacket pocket, weighted with years of planning and the promise of justice finally within reach, but walking beside Jenna, I’m aware tonight’s success has brought us to a crossroads I never anticipated.
Inside my apartment, I spread the contents of Anklor’s folder across my coffee table while Jenna examines the financial records I downloaded.The scope of his criminal empire is even more extensive than I suspected with connections to corruption cases across multiple states and evidence of criminal activity going back fifteen years.
She studies a document that details kickbacks paid to federal judges.“This is incredible.With this evidence, and what we could glean from the lake house, we could bring down half the criminal network in the southeastern United States.”
“The question is whether we need to risk everything for that complete victory, or if we have enough to ensure justice for the people who matter most.”I try to sound neutral.I don’t want to impose my will or force her to align with my way of thinking, but it’s not a risk worth taking in my opinion.
She looks up from the documents with a thoughtful expression.“You really don’t think we should accept the weekend invitation?”
I shrug.“We’ve already achieved more than I dared to hope for three years ago.We have documented proof of Anklor’s crimes, recorded confessions, and enough evidence to ensure his conviction.”
“But not enough to destroy his entire network…” She trails off, biting her lip.
I lean back and close my eyes, taking a moment to compose my thoughts.I look at her again before saying, “Maybe that’s not our responsibility.Maybe our responsibility is to ensure he pays for what he did to my family and gets removed from power before he can hurt anyone else.”
She’s quiet for several moments, studying my face with intensity.Finally, she reaches for my hand.“This is a conversation we need to have properly.Not while we’re both exhausted and running on adrenaline from tonight’s operation.”
I nod.“Tomorrow would be better, when we can think clearly about all the consequences.”
As I hold her close and stare at the evidence that could finally bring down my family’s killer, I wonder whether the choice ahead of us will strengthen our partnership or destroy everything we’ve built together.
Chapter 13
Jenna
Thenextmorning,Iwake in his arms.We were too tired to make love again last night, but this closeness, being new, is welcome and precious even without a different kind of pleasure.I sit cross-legged on his bed, wearing one of his T-shirts that hangs loosely on my frame.My hair’s still damp from the shower we shared a short time ago, and the familiar ache of too little sleep tugs at the edges of my awareness.Somehow, I’m awake.I have to be.We’re running out of time.
Fenton looks good in fresh sweatpants with his chest and feet bare.The man who made love to me with desperation in a linen closet is the same one pacing in gray sweatpants, plotting how to dismantle a criminal empire.
He glances toward me as we walk toward his office together.“Coffee’s on autotimer, thank God.We’ll need it.”
“Probably a gallon, at least.”I force a smile I don’t quite feel.What’s ahead presses against my ribcage.When we reach the office, we both take seats at the folding table he’s unearthed from somewhere, along with chairs, and stacks of documents he must have started printing last night before we went to bed.
“I think we should be done,” he says suddenly.“There’s no reason to keep doing this.To go to that lake house…”
I study his face, noting the strain in his expression that suggests internal conflict.“What’s really bothering you about it, Fenton?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, apparently choosing his words prudently.“Three years ago, I would have accepted that invitation without hesitation.The chance to gather evidence on his entire network, to ensure complete justice for every family he’s destroyed, would have been worth any personal risk.”
“And now?”
“Now, I have something to lose beyond my own life.”
The admission touches me more deeply than any romantic declaration could.For someone who’s spent three years living with death as an acceptable price for justice, the fact that he’s considering backing away from his mission to protect me represents a fundamental shift in his priorities.
Instead of gratitude, I experience a surge of anger that surprises me with its intensity.“You’re planning to make this decision unilaterally without consulting the person whose life you’re supposedly protecting?”
His expression shifts to surprise.“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“I’m not some helpless victim who needs shielding.”I stand up and move closer to his chair, my voice rising with frustration.“I’m a capable partner who chose to be part of this operation.You don’t get to suddenly decide I’m too fragile to handle the risks we agreed to face together.”
He looks shocked.“That’s not what I’m doing.”
