Dirty Law

“You don’t know anything about me.” Before I could put my phone away, he responded.

“I know. And you’re making it fucking hard to learn.” I shoved my phone in the sleeve of my backpack, resolved to deal with Huck later. When I looked up, Riley was in the doorway. My breath escaped me in a silent gasp.

“Nami DeGrace?” Riley asked, shock marring her perfectly made up features. “Whatever are you doing here?” I stood up from her desk, folding my arms. I’d only met Riley a few times as an intern, and each time had been the exact same. She’d given me a brilliant megawatt smile and thanked me for my dutiful service. Then she’d returned her attention to her smartphone and walked off, barking orders.

Becca Riley was a viper, probably more venomous than Morris. After all, she was the reason Morris was in office. I didn’t buy her surprise for a minute. Even though she was supposed to be resting, her face was still impeccably made up. Every bone was highlighted and contoured, her lips were sealed with red, and her lashes were long and much too luxurious to be real. She wore a satin nightgown and robe, like a fucking nineteen twenties movie star.

“Cut the shit, Riley.” Quicker than I could blink, Riley’s face turned cold. She eyed me with contempt and loathing and advanced forward. Placing a pointed finger on her wooden desk, she trailed the edge around to face me. With one eyebrow raised and two lips puckered, she regarded me.

“What game are you playing, DeGrace?” She smiled thinly through her question. I slammed the drawer shut just inches from her finger. She snapped her hand back. There was no pretense between us any more. She glowered at me and I returned her look with just as much gusto.

“I’m not playing a game,” I seethed. “I’m going to prove your boss to be the twisted pervert he is and you as his accomplice and cheerleader.”

Becca shook her hair out lazily. Sighing, she walked away from me and toward the window. I watched, my entire body posed for a fight, as she carefully pulled aside the drapes. Light poured in as Becca tied them up, taking long moments to carefully tie each knot. At last Becca turned to face me, her back leaning against the now exposed glass.

“Are you—oh, I don’t know the proper nomenclature any more…” Riley waved a hand frivolously. “Are you off the wagon? Is that why you broke into my house—because make no mistake, that’s what has happened here—and attempted to steal my valuables? Are you high, DeGrace? Should I call the police, or the professionals? Or perhaps the media would like another attempt at your psyche before the psychiatrists have a go?”

I placed both hands on the desk, refusing to relinquish my stare. “There’s proof of your depravity somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” Becca laughed, the trill, tinkly sound at odds with her rancorous being. “I take that to mean you still haven’t found anything.”

I nearly opened my mouth and spilled what I had found, just to wipe her stupid, smug grin away. I had proof. I had the rape kit the police refused to test. The police may have destroyed all other proof, like the clothes I was wearing and the pictures the hospital took, but they didn’t get the rape kit. The rape kit was stored at a separate facility that the police couldn’t touch.

I held on to that rape kit as my only hope. I thought if I could get Morris arrested on some other charge, they might test his DNA and get a match for the rape kit. Or maybe if I looked long enough, I could find more proof of my rape. So far nothing was showing up, but vile Becca Riley didn’t need to know any of that.

Instead I said, “You and Morris are like acid rain, Riley. You can’t help but burn whatever you touch. So yeah, there’s proof somewhere.”

Riley kicked off the glass, smiling. “Go ahead and look some more. If you could find something, it would make this game we play a little more interesting. Fair warning, the police will be here in about five minutes.” Riley sauntered out of the office, her silver robe fluttering behind.

Just seconds after she’d gone, sirens sounded in the distance. Cursing, I ran back to the servant’s hallway. I pounded down the stairs and into the basement, shoving open the cellar door that led to the tunnel system.

“There’s nothing here!” I threw the last of the papers on the floor in exasperation. There wasn’t a single usable piece in anything I’d stolen from Riley’s. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Some of the records proved Morris was using public money for private things, but in the grand scheme of things, that was nothing. Considering the scandals most politicians had to face lately, it was barely even a blip. I was trying to prove that Morris was Satan, and even I was starting to doubt myself.

So far I’d taken thousands of pictures of Morris and the only thing I’d caught was him meeting with his secretaries late at night. Sure, that was fishy, but it wasn’t evidence. If you had a devoted fan base like Morris did, it counted for nothing, especially considering the source: me. I was still the alcoholic whore who had tried to ruin Morris’s reputation.

I needed concrete evidence that Morris was one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Without evidence, I was just another preacher screaming on a street corner. The more evidence I had, the better, but really all I needed was to get him indicted. Even if all I could do was get him on something stupid, like too many unpaid parking tickets, it was worth it. If his DNA was scanned into the police database there would be no hiding. He would match my rape kit and then his house of cards would come tumbling down.

That had been my plan from the beginning, yet the further I continued, the more hopeless I felt. Morris was impregnable. He was like the fucking Pope in the Popemobile and I was just throwing candied almonds at his glass shield. Nothing I did touched him. He walked around with a smirk on his face while I wore a scarlet letter burned into my flesh.

Grimacing, I shoved the bad thoughts down where they belonged a

nd turned back to the pile of papers on the floor. The only thing of value that I’d swiped was Riley’s personal day planner. I probably only had a few days before she realized it was missing and switched all of her dates, making the thing useless. I flipped through the pages, writing down the important information.

It would make tailing Morris a bit easier. Instead of following him all day, I could simply show up. I didn’t need to wait outside his house or office for hours in hopes of him making an appearance. I didn’t have to scan his website to see if he had any events. Instead I could just check the planner. So that was nice.

As I was thinking over my new plan, a knock sounded at my door. I glanced warily up from the piles of papers strewn about my room. There was only one person besides the delivery man who knocked at my door: Law. I went to the door and yelled out, “What do you want?”

“Let me in!”

“Fat fucking chance of that.” Laughing, I turned and walked away from the door, but not before yelling, “Go away!” As I seated myself back on the floor, I heard the lock being picked. Terror seized me and I ran for my gun where it was nestled safely in the nightstand. I kicked Raskol lightly to wake him up, but he only raised his head before returning to his slumber.

“Seriously, worst guard dog ever,” I muttered before raising my gun to the opening door.

“Woah,” Law said, eyeing the cannon. “Is this how you greet all your friends?”

“It’s how I greet people who break and enter my home,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “What the fuck do you want?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.” I shut my eyes at his answer and kept the lids pressed tight—anything to gain control over the way his voice affected me. “You never called. I was worried.” I opened my eyes, stunned to see how close Law had gotten. He was only a foot away from me now. That rich, heady scent that was utterly Law engulfed me. It drugged me.