“He was going to list names of conspirators.”
One of Dallas’s shoulders lifted. “It’s probable. Hell, word around the district attorney’s office was that Saint James was never supposed to be transferred to Rikers in the first place.”
My brows furrowed. “What?”
“I don’t know how much truth is in it, but apparently he was supposed to go to Lincoln. The fact that he went to one of the most notorious prisons known for its brutality says a lot that backs up McAllister’s fear. It was in his eyes, Theo. The man knew not to cross Pratt. Makes sense if you think about it. Pratt has a hand in just about any business you could imagine. If he went too far, he probably doesn’t know how to quit and wasn’t about to let Anthony talk.”
I let that soak in for a moment, my anger rising higher and higher until I was sure my face was red, and steam threatened to billow out of my ears. “It was a set up,” I murmured in realization, cursing, and scrubbing a palm down my face. “If Pratt hired somebody on the inside to take down Anthony so he wouldn’t talk about co-conspirators in the scandal, nobody would think twice about his death because of how many fatalities the prison has in an average week.”
All Dallas did was nod with a grim look on his face.
I cursed again before dropping down into my chair and exhaling heavily. “Adele can’t find out about this yet. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.” There was a pause as I stared down at the list of names. “I’ve been keeping your secrets for a long time. If you don’t mind me saying so…”
He captured my attention enough for me to glare at him. If he was going to threaten me, he chose a bad time to do it. But as soon as I met his eyes, I realized that wasn’t what he was doing. Dallas was a good man. How many times had Della told me that? They’d talked often on their drives together. She knew more about the man than I did, and he’d been under my employment for a long ass time.
“You two have always been good together, willing to push the other. When I said that you cared for Adele, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Look at all you’ve done for her. Hell, you keep me on payroll to drive her around even though she rarely uses the services.”
“Because she thinks you’re Sophie’s employee,” I pointed out. That and Della hated having a driver when she could walk places. Anything that reminded her of the privilege she was born into was something she distanced herself from. I respected it, even if it pissed me off she walked on foot or called fucking Uber instead of using Dallas. “It doesn’t matter what your opinion is anyway.”
“No?” His brows go up. “At the risk of losing the money you gave me, I’d like to disagree with you. If my opinion favors whatever you two are doing, don’t you think others will too? You’re torturing yourself by thinking worst case scenario to keep her at a distance, but that’s only hurting both of you.”
I glowered. “What do you know?”
Amusement danced in his eyes as he stood, buttoning the jacket of his suit. “I’d say a lot considering you’ve paid me to keep an eye on her for all these years. She’s a good girl. Smart. But she’s hurting. Hurting real bad, sir. Always has been, but it’s gotten worse the last couple of weeks. Not to step out of line, but she reminds me of what she was like…before. When things got tough, that is. She’s a ghost of herself when I take her places, like her friend’s house.”
Dallas was a lot of things, and truthful was always one. It was why I kept him on my payroll, always offering him bonuses for doing things beyond what he signed up for. Digging. Investigative work. When he signed the contract, it was to look after Adele. Drive her. Keep an eye out to ensure she was safe. Despite her not using the car much, they did form somewhat of a friendship. Normally that would have pissed me off, especially because Dallas is younger than me. Hell, he has a lot more going for him than I do married or not. But I knew better than to think Della would do anything with him because of the ring on his finger. I knew she wouldn’t do anything because of me. And maybe that was the problem. I was forty. Angry. Divorced. Bitter at the world. What the fuck could I offer her other than misery and sage advice when the moment called for it? I gave her one moment to make her choice, a spontaneous decision that led to more. And I wanted even more than that.
I needed that night and all the fucking moments that came after.
Her scent.
Her pleas.
Her body.
Her heart.
But part of me didn’t want her to know that because I was going to drag Della down with me, drowning her in the blanket of misery my mind led to even when I was happiest with her. It was inevitable. But us? Fuck. Weren’t we inevitable too? Wasn’t that what was building?
“Do me a favor,” I told him. “Get me a meeting with McAllister. One on one. Somewhere private. He and I have a lot to discuss.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” he doubted.
I stared at the list of names in front of me again before pulling out a carton of cigarettes from my desk and lighting one up between my lips. “Not at all. But I have nothing to lose.”
We both knew that was a lie though.
He watched me for a moment longer before turning to the door, one hand on the knob as he hesitantly said, “I’ll do it, but consider what it could mean for everyone else.”
Della came to mind as I absorbed the nicotine my lungs demanded. I’d told her countless times I’d quit—that I’d try. But I also told her I’d be there for her whenever she needed me.
I was a fucking liar.
Chapter Fifteen
Della
One, two, three, four, five, si—
“Crap,” I hissed, stumbling on my feet on the second turn. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I waited for the right note to drop before starting again. Without Tiffany, the stress wasn’t nearly as bad, but suddenly the determination to get it right was tenfold.
My mother always used to tell me I was too strong headed for my own good. “It’s your strongest trait and your biggest downfall, sweet Della.”
How many times did she tell me it was okay not to be perfect? I knew I wasn’t better than everyone, even if there were people in my life who thought I was. Lips twitching, I swiped at my skin and rested my hands on my hips while trying to catch my breath. For a microsecond, I’d been glad she wasn’t here to witness what I was putting myself through, but that feeling quickly diminished and was replaced with guilt, shame, and mourning.
What the hell was wrong with me?
Bending to grab my water, I startled when I saw a tall, broad figure at the doorway watching me. Theo.
“That was…” He leaned against the doorjamb with his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t seen you move like that before. I like it.”
It was hard to swallow knowing he saw me screw up. “I messed up.”
I was hyperaware of my bare stomach showcasing my hideous scar. The workout pants I wore were low on my hips, which meant it was out there for anybody to see if they barged in. I’d shed my shirt an hour ago and was left in a red sports bra and black leggings. I’d noticed muscles coming back into my legs that had disappeared after I called it quits, muscles that Judith called dancers legs. They were toned but petite until I’d filled out after my stress eating, turning into my own personal nightmare.