Page 8 of Lawless
“You seem to have forgotten mine,” I point out bitterly.
“And you seem to have forgotten that you drove here,” Aubrey teases. “You might be bankrolling this, but I don’t have a spare bed for you to warm.”
Lifting my head, I glare at her as she pours herself another drink.
“I can handle one.” I scoff. “I’m no lightweight.”
She smirks at me before grabbing a second tumbler and pouring me a drink, although it’s nowhere near the amount I need right now.
Carrying them both over, she places them on the coffee table before curling her legs beneath her and getting comfortable on the couch opposite mine.
“So…” she starts after taking a sip from her drip, “I feel like there’s more to all of this than you’re letting on.”
Reaching for my drink, I rest my elbows on my knees, swirling the contents of the glass around between them as I try to decide how much to confess to.
“I know you want him dead. That’s no secret. But up until now, you’re been clear-headed and fully focused. Something is different. I’ve never seen this…” She waves her hand up and down in front of me. “Side of you. You’re agitated and nervous. It’s not a good look,” she adds to further piss me off.
“Sorry, I’m not quite as emotionally stunted as you, Aubs.” The grin I give her is nothing but insincere.
She snarls at me, baring her teeth, but there’s no fire behind it. She continues studying me as if the answer is written all over my face.
Suddenly she stills, as if whatever she’s trying to figure out has just slapped her across the face.
“There’s a woman, isn’t there?” she suddenly asks.
“What? No. Don’t be crazy,” I argue, finally lifting the glass to my lips and throwing the contents back.
It burns, but not as much as I need it to.
“Oh, there so is.”
Aubrey grins, her eyes alight with excitement as she waits for me to spill the goods. She looks so… normal like this, it’s hard to remember who she really is and what she does for a living. Right now, with her hair pulled back into a messy bun and her face clear of makeup, she looks like a normal young woman. It’s easy to see why she’s so good at her job. She manages to get even the most astute men to fall at her feet with that innocent doe-eyed look. It’s exactly why I’m paying her so handsomely for her skills.
“There’s not,” I state, needing to change the subject.
It’s not that I don’t trust her to know about Alana and Mav. Quite honestly, what’s happened with them is child's play compared to what she already knows about my plan with Victor. But still, the confession never leaves my lips.
“What about you? Any men on the scene.”
She scoffs. “If you’re going to try to deflect, Harris, at least make it a question worthy of our time.”
“Gotta be better than asking if my old man has put out yet,” I mutter, revulsion rolling through me at just the thought.
“I mean, if you want to talk sex lives, I’m an open book.” The evil glint in her eye makes me shake my head at her.
“I’m good. Thanks.”
“Dude, you’re just jealous because I’m getting more action than you.”
“I highly doubt it. Don’t you know who I am?”
“The arrogant, egotistical prodigal son of the great Victor Harris. Every motherfucker in this town knows who you are.” She grins before taking another sip of her drink. “Doesn’t mean you’re seeing any action though, does it? So… back to my original question… who is she?”
“She’s no one.”
Aubrey’s eyes light up. “Ooooh… married? Older? Wait… does JD have a sister because that would be a story.” My teeth grind so hard I’m surprised one doesn’t crack. “No, wait… I’ve got it. Stepsister. We all know Victor has fucked almost every pussy in this town; I bet you’ve got siblings of all varieties all over the place.
“You still reading those trashy books?” I tease.