A knock sounded at my window and I jumped, turning to see who it was. My heart fluttered, the traitorous thing, as I thought it could be Law. Even though his knife was still firmly in my back, I wanted to see him. How pathetic was I?
My eyes widened in surprise when I saw who it was. Turning off my car, I opened the door and stepped out.
“What are you? Some kind of stalker now?” Effie laughed. I stared at her, unsure what to say in response. It was pure coincidence that we were at the same yogurt shop. Salt Lake City was often called “Small Lake City” for a reason. She knew that. We’d joked about it. I didn’t owe her anything, much less a reason for why I was parked at a public yogurt shop
“What happened to you, Effie?” I asked. “Don’t you remember us?” This was the girl that on the day my parents died had held me until I stopped crying. Now she was looking at me as if I were shit on her shoe.
Effie folded her arms. “I remember how crazy you were and I’m glad I got away before you did something to me.” She took a step back as if I was going to pounce or something. With one arm I rubbed my shoulder, trying to comfort myself. It was as if my sister was saying these things to me and, yeah, it hurt.
I wished it didn’t. I wished I was strong enough to just get in my car and flip her the bird. I wasn’t; I just didn’t understand how she could do this complete 180 on me. We had been so close. How could she possibly believe what was said about me?
I had no words left, nothing to argue. I had run out of steam months ago when the paparazzi had hounded me night and day. I was sick of explaining myself, sick of defending the fact that I was raped. The fact that I had to defend myself to Effie, who was basically my family, made me nauseated.
On top of that, I was dealing with yet another betrayal. I looked from Effie and up to the gray cloudy sky. A bit of blue sky briefly peaked through before it was smothered by a cloud. I sighed and shook my head before turning back to my car.
“Go back to your miserable little life, Nami,” Effie said to my back. I spun around, furious. I didn’t care if we used to be sisters; she had crossed the line. I stopped and turned to face her. She had a smug smile on her face, the kind she usually reserved for men who bought her drinks. I looked at her yogurt and back at her smug face. Without another thought I shoved her yogurt in her face.
She screamed, “You fucking freak!”
“And you’re a judgmental, spineless bitch. I’m glad we both know who we are.”
Wiping the yogurt off her face, Effie sneered. “I don’t know how we were ever friends.” I watched her, with her streaky, yogurt-covered face. Done up in the latest fashion, she wore black riding boots and black designer jeans with a flowing peach top. Her hair was inky black, cut into a sharp bob. On her right arm was a big, black Marc Jacobs bag, and in her left hand she had the rest of the yogurt. I knew she wouldn’t have eaten it anyway. Strike that, she would have eaten the top of it.
Later she would go to the gym and work out for a good two hours. On her way home she would text her friends about going out that night, then complain later about how she always had to be the one to set up plans. Everyone would meet up at some bar and she would kiss her current boyfriend on the cheek then proceed to flirt with anyone in sight. Afterward, when everyone had gone home, she would text. And text. And text until passing out with her phone on her chest. Then she would wake up and do it all over again.
“Me either,” I said. I turned around and hopped in my car before Effie could say anything more.
I gripped my steering wheel, stuck at another light. This time it was red, but I feared for when it turned green. My phone continued to buzz like an angry insect and it was starting to wear on my willpower. As it buzzed another time, I reached for it, ready to chuck it out my window. The words caught my eye, though: “It’s Jameson. I’m sorry but I can’t report your story.”
I looked at the text, emotions swirling in my gut. Who could I trust? Law had given me Jameson’s info, and it was clear that Law was working for Morris. I slammed my hands against the steering wheel in frustration, a small scream escaping my mouth.
As the light turned green, I did an illegal turn. I ignored the honking and drove toward The Time’s office. I didn’t like the idea of loose ends, and Jameson was a very loose end. He had my name and knew I had a story. Though he didn’t know exactly what my story was, he was tied to Law. I still wasn’t sure what Law’s endgame was. Plus, what was stopping Jameson from leaking my info to Morris, or worse, starting another media shit storm about me?
Answer: nothing.
As I rode the elevator up, I ran my fingers through my hair fretfully. I had dealt with this for nearly a year, but apparently had learned nothing. I was still the same naive girl as before, trusting men I shouldn’t have been trusting. When was I going to learn that the only person in the world who had my back was me? I was my castle, my keeper, and my sovereign. It was a lonely existence, but it was better than constantly being fucked over.
The elevator dinged open and I made my way down the banal hallway. I walked past foggy office windows with boring names, looking for the boring name that held all my information. I passed through the large, square room of cubicles, and no one paid me any mind. I was grateful for that. Only months ago those vultures would have pounced on me, trying to rip at my flesh for a hint of a story.
I rounded a corner and I neared my destination. I was about to knock Jameson’s door, when muffled voices stopped me. I could faintly hear the sounds of a disagreement coming through the wood. I lowered my hand and pressed my ear against the door.
“The fuck man?”
I stumbled back, stunned. Law was on the other side of the door, and he was yelling at Jameson. Up to that point, I hadn’t thought Law knew Jameson, mostly because Law said he didn’t know Jameson. Then again, Law had said a lot of things to me, a lot of things that had turned out to be lies. So why was I surprised?
I used to think a person could only handle so many shocks. That there was a certain allotment of twists and turns a person got in their life. Like, once a person found out their biological father wasn’t the man who raised them, that was it. No more shocks for that person for the rest of their life. I knew better now. After all the twists and turns and general shittery of the past year, I knew life didn’t allocate anything. Life just happened.
I put my ear back on the door, sucking it up.
“Do you see the shit she’s tied up in?” I recognized that voice as belonging to Jameson.
“Yeah. It’s good,” Law responded. “It’s Watergate good.”
“I don’t want Watergate!” Jameson yelled. “I’m in the same ward as Morris. He’s a nice guy!” I nearly rolled my eyes at that revelation. Jameson admitted that he and Morris went to the same church. Pulitzer Prize-winning or not, he was just like every other reporter before him, blinded by the glow that was Senator Mitch Morris.
I didn’t have it in me to care, to be outraged, to be disgusted. I was normalized by it. He was just another reporter who saw me as a whore and Morris as the good guy. There was nothing surprising about that, and I would have been lying if I’d said I wasn’t expecting it. My fingers rested lightly on the wood, ready to tear myself away from yet another disappointment, when Law’s thundering voice pulled me back in.
“When I sent her to you I thought you had balls. What happened to the Jameson I knew? The one reporting on human traffickers and political lies and actually doing shit? What happened to my best friend?”
I pulled back from the door, genuinely shocked. Jameson was Law’s best friend? What the hell did that mean? My heart was beating fast again, and if I didn’t get it under control I was going to have a panic attack. It sounded like Law was helping me, like he wanted Jameson to run my story. I shook my head at that; I knew better now than to take things at face value. When I got raped, everyone decided to lie.
Or…and this was the thought that kept me up at night…what if I had gotten raped and now saw what the world didn�
��t want me to see? What if this was how it had always been, but it took trauma to force the false reality away? Lies on top of lies on top of more lies. People who lied with no rhyme or reason. People who lied simply because they could. I gulped, suppressing my fears and tears, and pressed my ear against the door once more.
“He got married and had a baby,” Jameson said. “Fuck, Nick. I didn’t know this is what you meant when you said you had a story you were sending me. If I report on this I’ll be ostracized—” Jameson was abruptly cut off. I heard shuffling and then the sound of a large weight being thrown against the wall.
“You’re weak,” Law growled. “What kind of example are you setting for your baby? You have a duty to the republic. You’re supposed to be keeping the politicians in check. I expect to see this shit in the papers.”
“Don’t tell me what to do Law,” Jameson growled back.
“Don’t make me tell you what to do! Grow a pair and do it on your own!” What sounded like a slam followed Law’s words, and then silence. I kept my ear pressed to the door for another minute, but neither said a word. When I heard shuffling of feet, I quickly turned and walked away. I no longer wanted to meet with Jameson, at least not then. There was too much to think about.
As I made my way to the elevator, my mind was reeling. If Law was working with Morris, then why would he want my story out? I had been certain he was working for Morris. Everything pointed to that. His clandestine meetings with Becca were just the cherry on top of the shit sundae.
So why say he loved me? Why help get my story out? I skipped the elevator and took the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Law was a liar, that much was clear. In my experience, people only lie when they either have something to hide or when they want something done. Neither scenario ends up well for the person being lied to who, in this instance, is me.
I waited outside the building until I saw Jameson leave. After months of following Morris, I’d gotten pretty good at tailing people. Four hours after the confrontation with Law, Jameson left the building. He boarded the metro and I followed the train for ten stops.
Jameson walked a few blocks until he arrived at a quaint brick house with a picket fence. A fucking picket fence. I hopped out of my car and rounded on him before he could reach the front door.
“Jameson,” I said to his back. He jumped, startled, and turned around. I wasn’t totally certain of my plan, but Jameson was mixed up in my shit. He very clearly had ties to the Mormon church, and even more clearly, Law. It was obvious now that Law was twat monkey number one in my life. If Jameson had any answers to questions that needed answering, I was going to find out.
Or, I was going to silence him before he did something destructive.
“Miss DeGrace?” Jameson asked, turning around to face me. “What are you doing here?”
“What the hell are you planning?” I spat.
“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?
“Love is an action, Law, and you’ve acted with lies.” I waved my hand at him. “You know what? I don’t even know why I’m bothering. It’s like trying to explain morals to Hannibal Lector.” I rubbed my temples, my fingers numb in the cold air.
“Nami please.” Law gripped my hands with his. “I promise if you don’t like what I have to tell you, I will leave. I will leave Salt Lake City and never come back.”
I stared at my hands. They looked so small encompassed in his. For a moment, I felt warm. For a moment, I felt safe. I let myself be comforted by his promise and pleas, but then I came back to reality. Slowly, I slid my hands out.
“How can I be sure you won’t break that promise, too?” I asked.
Laws brows crinkled, as if thinking, and then he pulled out his phone. He typed something into it before returning it to his pocket. “Done,” he said.
“Done?” I asked incredulously. I nearly shrugged him off but then I felt my own phone buzz.
“I sent you my contact at GEM,” Law explained. “What I’m about to tell you will get me fired. I’ll have no choice but to leave Salt Lake City.” Keeping my stare pinned on Law, I felt the outline of my phone over my jeans. Partially satisfied, I removed my hand and lifted my arm, gesturing toward the street.
Dirty Law Page 15
