Dirty Law

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jameson set his briefcase down and gave me a curious look.

“I know who you’re working for,” I replied. I was getting pretty sick of all the confrontations. It was like my life had devolved into a shitty film noir. Still, it seemed like it wasn’t going to stop any time soon. Not as long as Morris lived and breathed, anyway. Jameson squinted, pretending to be confused.

“I repeat,” Jameson said. “What are you talking about?”

“Cut the shit, Jameson.”

Jameson folded his arms, sighing. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t report your story. I can give you a list of others who might be able to, but I’ll be honest, they probably won’t.” I opened my mouth to respond when I heard the voice of a person I’d hoped had fallen into a well.

“Nami?”

I spun around, glaring at Law. “Why are you here?” When I’d seen him leave The Times, it had taken all of my willpower not to run up and demand an explanation, or shove him into an open manhole. Why me? Why didn’t he just leave me alone? Why did he choose me to torment? My heart burned at the mere thought of him.

Why had he made me fall for him?

“I could ask you the same thing,” Law said. My eyes widened in surprise and then anger.

“I have a perfectly good reason to be here,” I said, indignation burning my tongue. I looked at the both of them, scoffed, and walked down the porch steps to leave. I felt dirty, having fallen for their tricks, but at least I could say I wouldn’t fall for them again.

“Wait.” Law grabbed my arm as I walked past him. I tried to shake him off but he wouldn’t let me budge. “You need to let me explain, Nami. Last night wasn’t what it looked like.”

I glowered up at Law’s gorgeous amber eyes. I hated that even now he made me ache. The memory of our sex was still burned in my soul. Just looking at him I remembered the way he felt on my skin and tasted on my lips. I hated him for lying, but I hated myself so much more for falling for it. I’d let myself go thinking Law would catch me, and instead I’d landed on more jagged rocks. Even more so, I hated myself for continuing to clutch on to the feelings. As if Law’s betrayal wasn’t still fresh and bloody, there was a part that clung to the cliff he’d thrown me off.

I was such a fool.

Looking away, I scoffed. “So Becca Riley wasn’t in your room?”

“No,” Law said steadily. “She was.”

I yanked my arm free from his grasp. “Then it was exactly what it looked like.”

“Okay guys…” I snapped my head back to Jameson, having forgotten he was even there. When Law was near, it was like we were in vortex of our own making. “Clearly you have something going on. Maybe you should work it out. Feel free to use my lawn, of course.” Jameson picked up his briefcase and unlocked the front door, leaving Law and me alone in the freezing Utah air.

“I’m not through with you…you…” I snapped at Jameson’s back, trying to think of the perfect insult, but fell flat. In truth, he’d been better than any reporter before him. He’d simply refused to take my story. That was better than twisting my words and making me appear wanton and ruthless.

So he wasn’t brave; there were much worse things to be in the world than cowardly. I knew firsthand how difficult it was to go up against Senator Mitch Morris. I exhaled, defeated, as Jameson shut the door on us.

“Nami,” Law said gently, reaching out to stroke my cheek. “Please, just let me explain.” I loathed that I still craved his touch. For those few seconds, the gentle way he caressed my cheek was enough to make me forget myself. It was enough to make me forget his betrayal.

“Honestly, Law,” I said, breaking the spell he had on me. “There is nothing you can say that will make me trust you again.” Law might have had my heart in a vice grip, but I would never trust him again. He held my heart captive, and that was very different than me giving it to him freely. I would never willingly give myself up to him. I’d made that mistake once and I wouldn’t do it again.

As I pushed myself past him, Law said to my back, “What if I told you Becca Riley is on your side?”

Eighteen

“I would say you’re fucking crazy.” I spun around immediately. Did he think I was a complete imbecile? “She made up the stories about me. She murdered my dog!” I marched back up to Law. He was a full head taller than me but I stuck my chin out and stood tall. I would not be taken advantage of any more. No more lies. No more deceit. He wasn’t going to trick me.

“Did you forget that Law?” I pressed. “Did you forget that she threw Raskol over the side of a mountain?”

“I can’t do this here,” Law said, looking sideways. “Can you come to my hotel room?”

I folded my arms. “How stupid do you think I am? Never mind, don’t answer that.” History wasn’t in my favor. Law probably thought I was a gullible idiot. I wasn’t going to fall for this, though. Becca Riley was on my side? He had a better shot of getting me to believe that the moon was made of cheese. I told him as much.

“Nami,” Law said. “If you ever trusted me, if you ever felt anything for me,

you will come with me now. Please.” I frowned, his words affecting me more than I would have liked. The air was a frigid, bitter cold. I hadn’t worn a jacket, not expecting to be outside long. The wind blew with precise ice, burning the tip of my nose and cheeks. Still, I would rather freeze in the gray-white world than be duped and betrayed again. My heart just couldn’t take it.

“Nami,” Law said again. “I know you feel for me. Maybe not as much as I feel for you—” I laughed bitterly, cutting off whatever he was about to say. How dare he assume my feelings, but more so, how dare he say he felt more than I did?