Elastic Heart (21 page)

“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?”

“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.

“Lead the way.” Law walked past my outstretched arm and to his car. When he reached his car, he opened the door for me, but I shook my head. “I’m not getting in a car with you. I’ll follow.”

As Law started his car and pulled off the curb, I contemplated turning around and driving home. I thought about driving past my home and out of the state. I could drive until I reached the end of the world. I wouldn’t have to face what Law had in store for me. I wouldn’t have to be Nami DeGrace any more. The rape wouldn’t have happened. My world wouldn’t have been shattered, and I never would have tried to put the pieces back together. I never would have cut myself with the shards.

Instead I followed Law, because as much as I wanted to disappear, I wanted to see clearly more. I wanted the fog on the glass to fade and I wanted the world to show me its face, even if it was ugly. I was done with secrets and I was done with lies. There was always going to be that part of me that wanted to run and hide, but I didn’t want that part to own me. I wanted to scream so loud that it was tattooed on the ears of humanity that Nami DeGrace could handle anything that was thrown at her.

And I was starting with Law.

Law pulled into his hotel parking lot and I followed. We were silent as we entered the elevator and our silence continued when we reached his floor. Memories flooded me as we walked down the hallway. I remembered all that Law had done for me. I couldn’t help but remember how he’d taken care of me when I was hurt, how he’d bathed me and treated me so well. I remembered all he’d shared with me.

How much of that had been true? How much had been lies? Maybe I would never know. Law placed his keycard over the lock and I braced myself for yet another reality.

“Becca Riley was raped by Mitch Morris,” Law said, keeping his stare on me. I blinked a few times and shifted my position on the chair I’d been sitting on for fifteen minutes. After coming inside his room, Law had offered me a drink. I’d declined. Since then we’d sat quietly, neither daring to break the calm. Everything was the same about the room. The same plush wingback chairs. The same pale yellow glow from the lamps. The same charming paintings stuck to the wall. Everything was the same, until he said that.

How was I supposed to respond? Part of me wanted to deny it, to say that he was lying and making it up. I nearly did, too. I nearly called him out and said he was making it up and Becca Riley wasn’t raped. I had my mouth open, ready to call her a liar and a—

A what?

A whore?

What everyone else had called me?

“What does that have to do with me?” I finally asked. Let’s say I could believe Morris had raped her; well, that still left me with a crapload of other questions. Like, why me? Why didn’t she help me? Why did she fucking murder Raskol?