Page 13 of Beautiful Envy

A smile spread as hope bloomed in my chest. This could finally be the moment I’d been waiting for.

The charges against me had been bogus, but with planted witnesses, it had been an open-and-shut case. I’d been told to take the plea deal to lessen my sentence, as no jury around here would ever find me not guilty.

I hated it, but I could understand the court-appointed attorney's position. Besides, it was what my father wanted. And what he desired, he got. If I didn’t go to jail to serve some bogus charge, he’d make it so I was buried six feet under.

Whatever he’d traded for my freedom had been bad enough for him to want to undermine me the way he did. That, or he’d finally figured out my plan all along. I wasn’t sure the Destroyer was that intuitive, but I’d learned from an early age to never underestimate him. Just when you thought you were safe, he would strike, reminding you why he was named the Destroyer.

McDaniels patted me on the back as we neared the visiting room, nodding to the guard at the door to let me through. I blanked my face, the mask I’d worn for so long feeling comfortable as I stepped into the room, eyeing the man at the table.

He was dressed in a nice gray suit, one that had to be expensive. Immediately, I knew he wasn’t from the court. Could he be the ally finally coming to meet? Or was this something else?

The man watched me as I entered, waving away the guard as I took a seat. Whoever he was, he was comfortable enough in himself to not fear me. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. It spoke of the power this man could wield, but what would that mean for me?

“Who are you?” I asked when he didn’t say anything, his eyes assessing me behind wire-rimmed glasses.

“The better question,” he said, “is what can I do for you?”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair and crossing my thick arms across my chest. My tattoos peeked out as I tried to regain some of the power dynamic between us. “What can you do for me?” I asked through gritted teeth.

He smiled, practically giddy, as he watched me. “Oh, you’re perfect.”

Smacking my hands down on the metal table, I smiled in glee when he jumped a little. “Tell me why you’re here, or I’ll show you what my fists can do,” I threatened. I had no intention of punching the man, but his demeanor was getting on my nerves.

He sighed like I was boring him, taking out a handkerchief to wipe his glasses. My jaw ticked as I waited, the anxiety coursing through me the longer he took. I had no more moves left, and he knew it.

Once he was finished, he placed his glasses back on his face and delicately folded the cloth. When it was folded back into the perfect square, he put it in his suit pocket, a little tuft sticking up. My face was red by this point, and I could imagine steam was about to roll out of my ears.

Pushing off the table, the chair screeched out behind me; the sound hurting my ears in the quiet space. I ignored it as I stood and began walking toward the door.

“I can get you out of here, Mr. King. Now, sit down and drop the macho act so we can get down to business. We only have a short amount of time to cover everything.”

Gritting my teeth, my jaw flexed as I debated giving this guy any more of my time. Deciding I had nothing to lose by hearing him out other than missing a few hours of mopping, I sat down.

He opened a file folder, turning it toward me.

“I believe you know this man fairly well?” he asked, showing me a picture of none other than the Destroyer.

“Is that a trick question?” I asked, trying to gauge what his game was. “It’s my father, but you already knew that.”

He smiled, the movement feeling a bit too perfect. “Yes, you are correct. And if I was to believe what I’ve heard, you’re not a fan of him. In fact, he’s the reason you’re in here? He set you up to take the fall for him when the Feds were getting too close.”

I grunted, not wanting to say too much. It was a battle of wills to determine who had the true upper hand here.

“A colleague of mine sent me your name and file, telling me that you just might be the person I’ve been looking for.”

“Sorry to break it to you, but you’re not my type. Besides, I’m taken.” I raised my eyebrows at him, daring him to continue.

He chuckled, not flummoxed at all by my comment. “Ah, there’s that wit Hank spoke of.”

The mentioning of Darcie’s father had me sitting up straighter. “You know Hank?” I asked, trying to keep the relief out of my voice.

“We have a mutual friend.”

“So what is it you’re wanting from me?” I asked, knowing this game all too well. He wouldn’t help me unless I could give him something—or someone.

“Smart too. I bet your fellow inmates resent you for that.” He joked, pointing toward the cell block. “Well, you see, Mr. King, I have a personal reason for wanting a man behind bars. The reason doesn’t matter per se, just whether or not you’re willing to help. In the process, we might be able to get you out of here and put two men away.”

“Who?” I asked, excitement building low in my stomach. It felt too good to be true, so I wanted to hedge it carefully so I didn’t come out on the losing end.

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