I'm Your Weakness

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I'm Your Weakness Page 3

by Rachel Cade


  “Get the f-” Nik quickly unfolded held the box cutter on her keys and sliced back through the air toward her attacker.

  “Cut the bullshit.” The voice made her stop short. “Keep walking.”

  The next thing she knew, she was opening the door to her apartment.

  “Fix me something to drink.”

  Gritting her teeth, she moved across the small apartment to retrieve a glass before checking her refrigerator. All she had was orange juice and Sprite.

  How long had he been standing outside of her apartment?

  Donnie’s tall, darkly dressed figure watched her as he sat down in her worn leather recliner.

  “I thought about having my guy tail you tonight. But since I’m a nice guy, I told him to hold back.”

  Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.

  She’d used that thought to rationalize bringing this back into her life.

  “Box cutter on your keys?” Donnie nodded once while his eyes scanned her place. “That’s cute.”

  Nik walked toward him, despite all her senses screaming to run toward the door, and handed him the glass.

  “So you went out tonight, huh? With who?”

  “I went to a museum,” Nik admitted as she sat down.

  Donnie chuckled. “A museum? What for?”

  A fifteen-year-old girl would think he was handsome; his skin and eyes were a clear nutmeg brown, his haircut was low and wavy. He had dimples when he smiled and a charm - when he wanted to use it.

  But a fifteen-year-old girl didn’t know what she knew.

  “I had a project for school.”

  His sigh was brief as he sat back. “You still doing that shit?” He shook his head since it was more of a put down than a question. “And who’d you go with?” He peered at her while leaning forward to put his untouched drink on the wood coffee table strewn with school books.

  “I went by myself.”

  “In that?” Donnie stared pointedly at her dress.

  “Yes,” she answered calmly.

  Donnie nodded slowly, keeping eye contact.

  Then he cleared his throat. It didn’t do much to ease the tension that made her back rigid.

  “Let’s get down to business, then. You came to me out of nowhere needing a grand and I gave it to you with no questions. Despite how you dropped me cold for a year.”

  “I know,” she answered, looking down to try to convey remorse she didn’t feel.

  “So you’re just out here doing this school thing, in this shitty apartment after everything I offered you?”

  “I was scared. I walked away because that life wasn’t for me.” Nik added drama to her voice but ironically enough, her words were kind of true.

  “But you were good at it.” His frustration consumed the room for a few moments. She could see him physically trying to rein it in.

  “I haven’t figured out what my favor is going to be, in addition to my money in lieu of interest.” He spoke coldly, repeating their deal. “But I’ll be in touch, princess.”

  *

  “How did your evening go last night, sir?” Elek asked, pouring him a coffee.

  Oliver sat at his dining room table in a robe, reading the news on his tablet. He always needed to eat before he dressed to start the day. He was up at sunrise as usual, and had the patio doors opened so he could enjoy the Manhattan quiet before the masses ruined it all.

  “It wasn’t quite as eventful as I’d hoped,” he answered without looking up.

  “Sorry to hear that.” The older man straightened.

  “Are you?” Oliver raised a suspicious brow before sipping his coffee. It was the perfect temperature as always.

  Nothing in Elek’s face gave away his thoughts.

  “So she returned my money, then declined my company for the evening.”

  There was quiet, then Elek’s brow raised. “So then your business with her is done?”

  Oliver placed a napkin over his lap and began cutting into his omelet. “That appears to be her stance.”

  “Class is over, Miss Pearson.”

  “Huh?” She looked up to see her sociology professor, Ms. Lowell staring down at her.

  “Class is over.” The woman smiled.

  “I’m sorry.” Nik gathered her notes from the small desk. “My mind was just somewhere else.”

  “I’ve been there before.” Lowell was was a petite woman with bronze skin and a mass of curly black hair. She might have been in her late thirties or early forties, but Nik really couldn’t tell.

  Nik was almost at the door when she heard the woman’s voice.

  “Not sure if you’re interested, but I have a meeting today at City Hall. Would you like to go?”

  Nik was caught off guard and it showed.

  Ms. Lowell clarified. “I usually have a student come with me. Whoever seems interested in the ‘inner workings of government.’” She smirked at her own phrasing.

  “It’s like an internship or something?”

  “Some of my students have been offered internships with the mayor’s office.”

  Nik grimaced. “I don’t know. That’s really not me. This is my first semester. I’m just taking general classes.”

  “How do you know it’s not you if you don’t try it?” her professor asked with a raised brow.

  She had a point.

  “If you’re nervous. don’t be.” Ms. Lowell smiled reassurance at her as they stepped through the threshold of the Gothic building with a small crowd. The lobby was fairly crowded, and not long after, they realized the press was there to interview someone.

  It was strange to see the interaction from the other side.

  Wordlessly, Nik followed Ms. Lowell to get a closer look at what was going on.

  “Keith Samuels was previously convicted for possession of heroin, yes.” A white man in an officer’s uniform stood in front of them all, answering questions.

  “Has the minor victim he was with been identified?” one reporter asked.

  “Yes, unfortunately it was Samuels’s son, Aaron,” he answered. “We pass condolences on to his family.”

  “Are there any leads on who did the shooting?” asked another reporter.

  “I can’t give out details of an ongoing investigation.” The officer paused, ignoring another question. “When the most innocent fall victim to senseless street violence, their cases take top priority in our department. Anyone with information regarding this case is highly encouraged to contact local authorities, so that we can bring these perpetrators to justice.” He nodded once. “Thank you.”

  Of course, some of the reports shouted questions as he walked away and others pulled to the side with their cameramen to film a wrap up of the story.

  Nik felt her unease grow as she followed Ms. Lowell up a huge winding staircase that led to the second floor. Holding tightly to the banister, she couldn’t help but marvel at the huge dome above her head, with its intricate square designs leading to a circle of glass that filtered the sun.

  “Adam.”

  Nik reached the landing without tripping and gave a silent thanks while Ms. Lowell shook hands in greeting with a young brown-skinned man.

  Lowell looked back for her. “This is one of my students, Nikoletta Pearson.”

  He smiled brightly in response despite looking a bit frazzled. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adam Johnson.”

  “I’m going to assume the mayor won’t be seeing anyone today with everything that’s going on?” Ms. Lowell asked.

  Adam shook his head. “He’s with the commissioner now. That Samuels kid was four years old.”

  “A baby. I can’t even imagine. Absolutely senseless.”

  Nik stayed particularly quiet.

  “I went to school with him – Keith,” Adam admitted, “We graduated same year. Of course we ran in different crowds…”

  Adam’s voice faded into the background when he began to distance himself from the dead drug dealer. Yes, Adam, you’re one of the good ones.<
br />
  Nik’s eyes traveled over the architecture while she began crafting her escape plan.

  It began with an assignment she completely forgot was due.

  She thought she heard Adam offer them lunch, delaying her plan because she wasn’t going to turn down a free meal.

  Nik wasn’t a huge fan of heights, but she wanted to look at the lobby before they went into a stodgy office.

  In a small crowd of men below her, a pair of silver eyes caught her attention. He only glanced at her for a split second before smoothly returning to his conversation with the group.

  Oliver.

  Shit.

  She could hear a voice, but completely ignored its source. Nik was a statue, fingers clenched against the railing, watching him interact with other people for the first time.

  Judging from his face, whatever he was talking about with the other men was serious. He was in another suit of course, black and tailored, his tie was electric blue - silk by the way it glinted in the light. His hair was free and jet black but had an uncanny shine, just like his eyes. It was crazy how even in daylight, he kept a cloak of mystery around him.

  “Nikoletta, come,” Ms. Lowell smiled. “You don’t want to get lost.”

  Nik pushed back from the rail, her breathing shallow as she forced herself away from the sight of him.

  She kept up with the paper lie and took her meal to go, a huge serving of ziti with some garlic bread. She felt a little bad at first, snatching the plate and leaving, but it seemed like Adam and Ms. Lowell were quite fine chatting without her.

  The first real breath she took was when she got to her apartment. After doing a bathroom and closet check, she willed her pulse to go down with the knowledge she was alone.

  Her dinner, with a tall glass of ginger ale, was going to salvage her day somehow, especially now that she realized she actually did have a paper that was due. When her phone rang, her teeth crashed down on the ziti in her mouth.

  It was an unfamiliar number.

  She let it ring until it went to voicemail.

  “Telemarketer,” she said under her breath.

  Nik continued to eat in peace for a full two minutes before the phone rang again; the same number.

  Nik swallowed and leaned forward while the phone rang against the coffee table.

  Her index finger hovered over the red button to reject it.

  But recalling her situation with Donnie, she swiped the green, plopping back into her couch, sullen.

  “Miss Pearson.” The deep voice echoed throughout her room. “How are you?”

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out at first.

  Oliver.

  She’d been expecting to hear Donnie.

  “I’m good.” Thank God they weren’t face to face.

  His voice was intimidating enough.

  “It was nice to see you today, though unexpected.”

  No shit.

  He continued. “But the unexpected sometimes turns out to be the most favorable.”

  “I was with my professor.” Why was she explaining herself to him?

  “I see,” he answered quietly.

  Nik moisturized her dry lips when she realized he was waiting for her to speak.

  There was some stress in her voice, despite her best effort. “Who are you?”

  “You didn’t google me?” His voice played with curiosity and sarcasm.

  “What? No.” She’d been too scared to, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “Is that why you left that night at the Met? Because you don’t know who I am?”

  “It was part of it,” she admitted.

  “What was the other part?”

  The calmness in his voice irritated her. “Can you just answer the question?”

  She could hear traffic noises from his end of the call.

  “Of course. Oliver Soltesz, District Attorney of Manhattan at your service.”

  “A district of what?” Who did he just say he was? She heard him, but was having difficulty processing. “Did you say D.A.? Shit.” She held her face down, her palm pressed against her forehead. “How is that possible? It doesn’t make sense!”

  “Why doesn’t it make sense?”

  “I didn’t - I never even considered you doing anything legal.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  Then a deep chuckle vibrated the phone.

  “No offense,” she said softly.

  “I’d say none taken, but I’m not so sure.” He was teasing her. She glanced toward her narrow window, not sure what to do next.

  “And why were you at City Hall with your professor today?”

  “She asked me to go. I guess she likes to show students how government works or something.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “It was fine.”

  “So you didn’t.”

  Nik would have grinned in another situation. “I left early, but grabbed some food.”

  “Good for you. I wouldn’t turn down a free meal.”

  “Except for seeing you there, it was pretty boring.”

  “Thanks for letting me be the exception.”

  Every word she said was being analyzed by this guy. And of course it would; he was a god damned lawyer.

  What the hell was she doing? she thought, giving herself a sudden mental shake. He might as well be a cop!

  Nik gnashed her teeth together. “Actually I have-”

  “To meet with me tonight, I know. I can send my driver for you.”

  “What?” She laughed shortly at his audacity.

  “Of course you could say no. But we’ve gone through that already.”

  She really couldn’t believe this was happening and could only think there had to be some kind of catch.

  “Name me one good reason, given our history, that we should spend any more time together?”

  “You want to know me,” he stated simply.

  Nik shook her head while he continued. “And I want to know you.”

  Chapter Four

  “You’re always in … some interesting places.”

  There was a huge silver clock embedded into the wall like a piece of art. The ceilings were so high, she felt like she was walking into a giant’s apartment. Art deco accents and furniture were strategically placed throughout the vast space.

  Oliver’s back was to her. The fiberglass window in front of him displayed all the glittering twin buildings surrounding them in the dark.

  He wasn’t wearing a jacket over his white dress shirt. It molded over the wide line of his shoulders. Since his hands were in his pockets, she could easily make out the lines of his biceps through the exact tailoring.

  “Jeans?” he asked, not turning around.

  Nik glanced down at her clothes. “I only have one dress. And you’ve seen me in it already.”

  “Why do you only have one dress?” he asked. There was an authority in his voice that probably persisted even through casual conversation.

  “Isn’t it kind of rude to talk to someone with your back to them?” She dodged his question with one of her own. Also, she wanted to see him.

  Oliver’s head lowered. She’d moved closer, but the recessed lighting wouldn’t give up his reflection in the glass.

  Keeping his hands in his pockets, he turned to face her.

  “Good evening, Miss Pearson.”

  Nik met his unwavering eyes, ignoring the flopping in her stomach that never happened around men. “Hey. What’s up?”

  His eyes crinkled a bit before he straightened his face. “I was asking you why you only owned one dress.”

  Analyzing.

  “I just never had a need for them,” she answered honestly.

  He pulled a hand from his pocket, to gesture toward her. “Is this how you dress the majority of the time?”

  Nik rolled her eyes. “You’re judging me. I’m twenty two; was I suppose to show up in a ballroom gown?”

 

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