Page 72 of Only the Devil
My chest tightens. How the hell did he find out? Her shoulders are rounded, gaze downcast, and her big toe wriggles the oversized sock.
“And? Did he threaten you? Your mom?”
“No. He’s too smooth for that.” Her dark brown eyes peer up at me before quickly flicking back to her lap. “I’m not sure when he discovered my connection to Reed, but if I were to guess, it wasn’t until after he offered me the CTO slot. But maybe it was before. Maybe that’s why he offered it to me. He’s probably heard that someone’s still gathering names, that efforts to build a case haven’t completely stopped.”
“Did he fire you?”
“No, quite the opposite. Reviewed my obligation to the firm. Expressed his faith in me.”
“But he didn’t threaten you?”
“No.” She rubs the back of her fingers under her nose, and I notice the goosebumps along her arms. I lift a throw from the armchair and toss it to her, and she quickly pulls it into her lap, then wraps it around her shoulders.
“Want me to turn down the AC?”
“It’s fine.” She chews at the corner of her lip, and I nudge her knee, urging her to spit out whatever’s going on in that head of hers.
It’s not ideal that he’s made the connection, but if he’s confident he owns her, it’s not really a risk. Then it hits me.
“You’re taking the position. For real.” She knows he’s sleazy and there’s a damn good chance he’s guilty of murder, and yet she’s gonna do it long-term. “Is this what soul searching looks like on you?”
She sniffs and presses a shoulder into the sofa cushion.
“You know, I always prided myself on being someone who didn’t care about money. I never wanted to spend thousands on clothes, shoes, or handbags. I once knew this girl who bragged about her six-hundred-dollar sneakers, and I thought she was a moron. Logos on handbags. Belts. Always thought it was silly. A waste. I never wanted a fancy car. Hell, I didn’t get my license until I was twenty. I took pride in being above all that. And here I am…”
“Thinking about it?” I fill in the words for her because I can. I get it. When I gave Hudson the situation report earlier, I didn’t tell him he should pull me, that it wasn’t a good use of the client’s funds.
She closes her eyes, and I notice how long and full her lashes are and how she has a scattering of freckles, ever so light, along her cheekbone.
“It’d be easier, you know, if someone in my family had cancer and I had this way of justifying it.”
Her eyes open, and she doesn’t exactly smile, but there’s a hint of amusement in the tilt of her lips.
“That’s not the case, huh?”
“No. I mean, my mom’s an idiot, but I make enough to support her.”
“She can’t be too much of an idiot. She gave birth to you. You’re brilliant.”
She snorts. “I swear to god I question sometimes how that happened. Like if she’s actually my biological mother. But she is. I had a DNA analysis completed, so there’s no doubt. I’ve decided I just take after my dad.”
“What was he like?” She’s mentioned her mom, but never once her dad. I didn’t dig, as I expect it’s not a pretty story.
“Dad? Not good. Not bad. Once again, nothing extreme or dramatic that I can use to justify being an ass as an adult.”
I smile at that. I’ve got a stellar set of parents, but I ran across plenty of men over the years that I’d bet money had grade A assholes for dads.
“We’re not close, but he doesn’t ask me for money.”
“Like your mom?”
“Eh, she doesn’t ask as much as she just needs it.”
“You’ve been taking care of her for a long time?”
She nods like she’s lost in thought. Her eyebrows lift, and she speaks, but she sounds distant, like maybe she’s having a conversation with herself. “Mom thinks I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I should take my lottery ticket and move on. It’s not like I’d be breaking the law. If he’s actively breaking the law, an investigation will eventually uncover it. I’d just be receiving a lotto ticket every two weeks in the meantime.”
“Huh.” Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know why she’s so down. She’s got a conscience—and she’s warring with it. “With two lame-ass parents, I’m guessing your Uncle Alvin filled in the gaps.”
