Staying inside on Sunday, locking my house up was my best option, and I needed time to get my head semi-straight.
The rest of the week after that goes slowly, and I don’t hear from Tanika until Thursday. And even then, it’s just a message asking me how the rest of my weekend went. I bet she doesn’t even remember seeing me that night, she was that drunk.
Martin annoys me almost all week while I help him work on a case. I’ve contemplated studying law myself with how much I have learned from him, and how much of the work I actually do for him as well. Also, I really love law, it stimulates my mind.
“Send this to the papers,” he says on Friday, dropping a written-up script in front of me. I briefly run my eyes over it and freeze at the names.
Exile Mc – Is Our City Safe?
Press Release
The Exile Motorcycle Club has been under investigation now for over two months for murder and missing persons. We suspect they’re also dealing in drugs. Is our city safe with this outlaw motorcycle gang running free in the area…
What the fuck! The article goes on and on about what the club has supposedly done and how unsafe the community feels. Honestly, they can’t print this or make a story out of this if it’s not true. Standing, I walk into Martin’s office. He has a coffee cup to his mouth and he looks up with cream all over his top lip. Goddamn, what a waste of space.
“Can you say this without evidence?” I ask him.
Martin wipes his face. “Do you have an issue, Rochelle? You know our job is to make the suspects look as guilty as possible.”
Damn if he isn’t dodgy—he couldn’t lay straight in bed if he tried.
“Is anything in this article true?” I ask again, waving it around like it’s burning my fingers.
“The client says it is.”
“Who’s that?” I ask because I know all of his clients. I’m the only person stupid enough to work for him. So it must be something he is doing on his own.
“Is this your job now… questioning your boss?” Martin asks as his hand slams down on the desk. If I didn’t have a house to pay for, I would quit here and now. But I do.
“No, I was just wondering.”
Martin waves a hand at me. “Get lost, Rochelle. Unless you have a conflict of interest you need to tell me about?” I freeze at his words. “Well?” he asks.
“No, I just want to know their story.”
“If you know what’s good for you, you will stay far away from them. They are bad news.”
Shutting the door, I walk back out to my desk and tear the paper up before I close down my computer to leave for the day. I can’t send that out—there has to be some truth in it for the papers to publish it.
“Pretty girl,” I yelp when I hear that name whispered at the entrance to my office. Marcus is standing there dressed in black jeans and a white shirt rolled up to his elbows. Why does he have to look so good? And why am I excited to see him?
“For someone who pushed me away at the start, you sure as shit show up a lot,” I say, shaking my head and turning as I try not to look his way.
“Maybe I woke up and smelled the pretty girl on me.”
“You mean the roses, right?”
“If you say so. I mean, I haven’t tasted you yet, so I don’t know if it’s more along the lines of roses or tulips.”
I groan at his words.
“Can I help you?” Martin asks, standing at his office door.
Marcus doesn’t answer him, so I do while Martin simply stares at him.
“He’s here for me. I’m just finishing up,” I say.
Martin stands taller, and I shake my head at him and reach for my stuff, then walk over to Marcus who doesn’t move until I reach for his hand.
“See you Monday, Martin.” I wave backward over my shoulder, pulling Marcus with me.
“You will,” is all Martin says before we get out the door.
The minute we’re out, I drop Marcus’ hand and turn to face him. He’s already watching me. “Why are you here?” I unlock my car and throw everything in, then turn to face him again. Marcus takes a tentative step toward me and pushes me against the car, it feels like déjà fucking vu.
My hands push him back and he smirks, but he does step back.
“I think we need a repeat.”
“You’re serious right now?” I ask.
“Yep, I want you. No denying that.” Marcus looks down to the tent in his pants, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m busy. No time for you this weekend. At all.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the Gold Coast with my sister. All weekend.”
“I can come. Meet you there?”
I laugh at him. “You’re joking, right?”
Marcus scratches his face, and the look that takes over it, it’s as if he’s just realized what he’s said.
“Yes, I fucking am.” Then he walks away.
Leaving me standing there confused as fuck.
“You aren’t wearing that, are you?” my sister Kat asks, eyeing me up and down as she holds Annabelle in her arms. I look down at my dress, which has a slit up the side and leaves nothing to the imagination.
“Maybe you should live a little, let me take Annabelle and you go out tonight. And let me dress you,” I say, showcasing my leg a little bit more.
“No, last time I did something stupid…” she trails off and looks at Annabelle. “Well, I got my best gift from your mistake. But I also learned my lesson, thank you very much.”
Kat pulls Annabelle up on her hip. “You just have to play it safer.” She eyes me.
“You know I speak to Tanika, too, right?” Kat’s blue eyes look at me. They’re the same color as mine. “I know you aren’t playing it safe with a particular man, whom I want photos of by the way.”
I wave my hands at her face. “No can do. That ship has sailed, and it’s over.”
“Was it fun, though?”
“It was a headache and a nightmare, plus the best orgasms I have ever had.”
“What I wouldn’t give for one of those.” Kat laughs.
We get seated on the boat. Annabelle falls asleep in her mother’s arms as the boat starts, and servers come around to serve our first course.
“Let me take her, you eat first.”
“No, I like it when she’s like this. It tells me she will always love me, no matter what.” Kat kisses the top of her head, and I start eating as she begins using one hand. Not once complaining or asking me to take her. By the last course, I take Annabelle despite Kat’s protests, and Annabelle stays asleep in my arms.
“Tanika said he’s one fine specimen. What’s so wrong with him?”
“Don’t you mean what’s right with him?”
Kat laughs and shrugs. “That too.”
“He’s confusing for one, and he isn’t relationship material. It’s obvious. I want kids one day… I don’t think I could ever have kids with a man like him,” I tell her the truth.
Kat looks to Annabelle then back to me. “Don’t base a relationship, or even fun, on what you think you want. Wants change. Needs change. I never wanted a child, and now I’d be lost without her.” Kat takes Annabelle back from me and I smile. Because she’s right. Kat never wanted kids, yet here she is, one of the best mothers I know.