Page 81 of A Secret and a Lie
“I can protect you.”
My body flashes hot, then cold, like I can’t decide how to feel. I want to be horrified by his proposition, but I’m not. I’m not even scared. I’m…thrilled.Goddamnit.
Still, I snap, “Where was that protection when you fastened the cuffs around my wrists?”
His jaw tics. “You weren’t mine then.”
I want to correct him; to tell him that I’m not his now either, even if all signs point to that being categorically untrue. But I’m not his in any way that matters.
Logically, I can accept that hemayhave a point. He has money—an obscene amount—and the Crawford name at his disposal. People bow and scrape at his feet, and if I want anyone to kiss my own shoes again, using Ford’s resources could be…beneficial. I don’t have to like the situation, and I certainly don’t have to trust him, but I could use him.
“I can protect myself,” I counter. “I’ve been doing a damn good job it that so far.” I’ve had my own back for years now, and I refuse to be left out in the baking sun for the scavengers to feast upon. I don’t need Ford’s help to ensure that.
His steely gaze softens marginally. “I know you can. You’re smart, you’re capable, you’repowerful. But I can give you something you desperately need: an escape. With my money and my last name, no one will touch you. I’m offering to put you on a pedestal, Genevieve. I’m offering you the world.”
Those words drape over me like a heavy blanket on a cold night, enveloping me in warm comfort. I want to shed the sense of security he’s given me. I want to spit in his face and tell him I can handlemyself. But we both know I won’t. He’s offering me a meal that will only feed the beast within me. I’d be a fool to walk away.
I’ve spent a decade collecting blackmail for this every reason. It’s insurance, a life raft; although, I don’t wantto use it until it’s necessary. I’d rather get out of here without releasing the secrets, so that when I go back to work, I haven’t lost clients. It’s easier for them to want to stay on the books of the Madam whose kept their confidences, even while imprisoned.
I weigh my options. This alliance of sorts is surely temporary, and considering that I haven’t been able to contact my own damn attorney since my arraignment, and an even better one is being dangled in front of my face, I should accept this offer…right?That’s the smart thing to do, anyway. I can create an exit strategy for escaping Ford later.
Reluctantly acknowledging the winning hand he’s just dealt me, I dip my chin.
His answering smile is nothing short of self-assured. Ford radiates dominance and assertiveness, power and strength. His aura compliments and nourishes my own. Without another word, he climbs to his feet and retrieves the lawyer from the hallway.
The attorney steps forward, capturing my attention. When he speaks, his voice oozes sophistication. “George Isom is the judge presiding over your case. Do you know him?”
My eyes flick to Ford, whose face is impassive, before finding Stafford’s cocoa gaze once more.
Of course I know Judge Isom. He was Corinne’s client for six years before she got married and chose to work exclusively as my assistant. That’s when Sloane took him on.
I remain silent, but nod.
“Is he your client?”
Something about this line of questioning makes me uncomfortable. Perhaps it’s the fact that Ford is privy to this information, or maybe it’s simply that I’m being asked about pieces of my client list. Either way, I’m not eager to answer the inquiry.
When I say nothing, Langfeld lets out a sigh, but myhusbandisthe one to speak. “For fuck’s sake, Gen, we’re trying to get you out of here. The keeper of secrets with an uncrackable code. You have nothing left keeping you alive.”
“If I die, my secrets will not die with me,” I snap. I feel his frustration tenfold, and my lip curls at the corner as I snarl, “I don’t exactly trust you.”
He has the audacity to appear as though I’ve wounded him. Perhaps I have, but he shot me first when he slapped those metal cuffs around my wrists.
If the government chooses to have me killed, Corinne has a one-time access code she can use decrypt a file on my computer that will tell her exactly how to crack the code in my journal. It’ll self-destruct after she accesses it.
Without understanding the code, the journal is useless, and the file on the computer is disguised as email correspondence. The blackmail is safe until she cracks the code and splashes the secrets across every news headline in America and beyond.
However, I’d start talking to the press before I found a knife at my throat. While I don’t plan to be reckless with the secrets in my arsenal, I won’t let propriety kill me.
Sensing the tension sizzling between us, Stafford suggests, “Ford, why don’t you wait outside? Genevieve and I can manage things for now.”
The look the lawyer gives me is inquisitive, and I find myself nodding. Ford’s nostrils flare as his lips thin, but he gets to his feet and moves toward the door. The heavythudof the door shutting is the only indication that he’s gone.
“I’ll remind you now that everything you share with me regarding your case is privileged information, kept only between the two of us, so I’ll try again. Is Judge Isom a client of yours?”
Knowing this is protected by attorney-client privilege, and since Stafford is my best—and seemingly only—shot at getting out of here, I take a breath, steadying myself, and tell him about the judge and the blowjob that landed me here.
Ford
