Dirty Law

“What? No.” I raised my hands, shaking them as I tried to regain some control. Tell him everything? The last people I had told everything to were the police, and that had backfired tremendously. I still had no reason to trust Law. The fact was I knew nothing about Law other than he worked for Morris in some capacity. I was already being an idiot letting him inside my home. And letting him drink my only good whiskey!

“I can help,” Law said.

I kicked my heel against the back of the couch, the pain clearing my mind. “By reporting me to Morris? Look, you can tell him I’m done, okay? I won’t do anything any more. He’s made his point.” And he had. Clearly I was in over my head. I just wanted justice, but this wasn’t some comic book. When people like me try to get justice, people like Morris send Law. If I kept going, I would probably end up dead.

Some days that felt like the best option, but most days I knew better.

“What are you talking about?” Law asked, coming to sit by me. “Why would I report you to Morris?”

I eyed him, feeling hate and loathing seep out of me like sweat. “Because you work for him. Don’t fuck with me.”

“I don’t work for Morris.” Law looked at me as if I were speaking in tongues. He leaned forward, just enough that I could smell him. He smelled good, if I was being honest, like wood and campfire smoke and something else…something rich that I couldn’t quite place. Trying to put space between us, I stood up and walked to the other end of the room.

“That’s bullshit,” I said. “So you can go ahead and stop talking right now. I know you work for him. I saw you two together and I heard everything.”

“I don’t know what you heard, Nami,” Law said, taking a step toward me. I immediately stepped backward, tripping over a pair of shoes I’d left out. I hated this, absolutely hated it. I wanted to stand tall and not let Law bully me, but goddamn I was so afraid.

It was a visceral response now. I didn’t get to make the decisions any more. I didn’t get to choose to stand tall. The minute Law stepped toward me I cowered. Fear wasn’t a choice; fear was my constant state of mind.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Law said, his voice lower and calmer, as if talking to a frightened cat. Maybe I was a frightened cat. I felt ashamed and embarrassed.

“Whatever,” I said, turning my head so I didn’t have to look at him. “Anything that comes out of your mouth is a lie, so you can go ahead and stop trying.” And why was he trying? Was Morris so obsessed with me that he’d hired this actor to lull me back into a false sense of security? Well, I wouldn’t be lulled. I would never, repeat: never, let myself be vulnerable again.

Law touched my chin and I jerked it away. Taken aback by his sudden advancement, I stumbled back and fell on my ass. “What the hell do you want with me?” I screamed so loud Raskol barked.

“I don’t want anything,” Law said, sounding nonplussed. “I’m just trying to explain myself.”

“No need!” I said, scrambling to my feet. “I know who you are and who you work for.”

“Oh yeah?” Law said, aggression starting to tinge his words. “Tell me then, Nami, tell me how you know so much about me.”

“I heard you talking to Morris. I know you work for him. I know you’re just as bad. Did he hire you to keep an eye on me? I don’t fucking care. Get the fuck out of my house before I shoot you!” I lunged for my .22 and pulled it out of my purse before Law could stop me. Law didn’t even try to stop me, though. As I aimed the cannon at his head, he merely cocked his own in slight amusement.

“Have you even shot a gun before?” Law asked, a slight smile playing on his lips.

“Get the fuck out of my house, Law. I won’t be raped again,” I growled, adjusting my finger on the trigger. Law’s eyes widened. I wanted to believe he was finally taking me seriously and starting to fear my trigger finger, but I doubted it. In the short time we’d known each other, my gun had been on him multiple times and he’d never batted an eye. If I’d had to bet money on what rocked Law’s calm, almost callous demeanor, it would have been my accusation.

“What?” I demanded. “Don’t act like that wasn’t the plan, Law. You’re Morris’s lapdog. He hired you either to fuck me or groom me so he could do it again.” Law’s jaw ticked, anger evident on his face. I bit my own lip, fear crawling down my spine. Was this it? Was he going to make his move?

“You know nothing about me,” Law growled, stepping forward so his chest was pressed flat against the gun. I swallowed.

I kept the gun steady, pressed against the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll shoot you before I let Morris get me again.”

“Good.”

“W-what?” I stuttered, having not expected that reply. “Did you hear me? I said I’ll shoot you—”

“Good,” Law repeated. Stepping even closer, Law pushed me flat against the wall. The muzzle was buried in his chest but I wasn’t naive enough to think I held the power in the situation. “You should shoot anyone who threatens you. Including me.”

My eyes widened. I stared into his hazel eyes, looking for a clue to the game he was playing. Nothing. He was locked tight. All humor from be

fore had vanished. His jaw was clenched, the five o’clock shadow looking less sexy and more menacing. I swallowed.

“What are you doing?” I asked, voice small. Law stepped back and I sucked in all the oxygen I hadn’t known I was missing.

“I don’t work for Morris.”

I scoffed. Yeah right. Law grabbed my chin and pulled my gaze to his. “I do not work for Morris.”