Authors: J.J. McAvoy
P R S E N T
“I’m really sorry about what happened to Esther and Hector. Yes, Esther and I broke up, but we never hated each other. And Hector… Hector was my best friend. No one in the world knew me like he did.
“To his parents, who were always like second parents to me, I…I’m so sorry. I never thought that anything like this could have happened, and if I could go back, I would have never had the party. I’m sorry,” Richard whispered in to my mic before stepping back.
He brushed the back of his hand across his face, wiping away his tears. Then, he crossed his hands over his chest and looked down.
Placing my hand on his shoulder, I smiled, trying my best to comfort him. I didn’t want to mess things up for him. For the first time—well, the second time since last night—I realized that this was someone’s life that we were fighting for. As I sat straight and squared my shoulders, I prepared to give my speech to the media.
“Richard Archibald threw a party, one of eighteen, thrown by students at his high school this year. In fact, Richard had thrown a party one week prior, to the incident in question, but no one attended because there wasn’t enough alcohol or drugs for their liking. And so, he made a mistake, all for the sake of fitting in.
“There’s no denying that this was a tragic loss of two young lives, but to lay the blame solely on a sixteen year old boy’s shoulders is not only injustice, but incompetence.
“Since this investigation started, not once has any member of the Boston PD asked for information on the drug dealer, who is, in my opinion, the real killer. He sold a bad batch of drugs to minors, God alone knows how many others fell ill and possibly died because of his distribution. There are still parties being thrown, even now, with kids just like Esther and Hector, who are only one pill away from overdosing. This isn’t a racial issue, this is not about another privileged teen getting away with something. This is about the DA, and the Boston police, trying to make it seem as though they are tough on crime, when in all honesty they are chasing their tails, searching for a scapegoat. That scapegoat will not be Richard Archibald.”
Standing up, I allowed Richard to get ahead of me so that I could whisper to him to ignore all the people and cameras and questions that were being hurled our way. When we entered the house, I took a deep breath as Mrs. Archibald hugged her son, and Levi spoke to his father. Then, I moved into the living room, where Logan and the rest of Levi’s associates were watching the news.
“A little emotional, but not bad,” one of them said.
As I looked around, I noticed Atticus sitting in the corner with his jaw clenched shut.
That was a first.
Looking at me, he shrugged as if to say ‘not bad’. I smiled, knowing he was planning to do everything in his power to regain his lead on me.
“So what happens now?” Mrs. Archibald asked.
Before Levi could answer, one of his associates’ cell phone rang.
“It’s the DA.”
Smirking, he took the phone— “Pete, how are you?” A pause, then, “A three-month stint in rehab? Have you lost your mind? He didn’t even take a pill.”
Everyone was on the edge of their seats, and so was I.
“What do I want? I want all charges dropped and no further action to be taken against my client. That’s the only deal I’m making, and if not, I will take this matter to court, and you will be forever remembered as the guy who tried to shaft a kid.” He paused once more, and everyone in the room held their breaths.
I was sure that he was deliberately being dramatic, trying to freak us all out and give us heart attacks.
“Yeah Pete, I hear the words coming out of your mouth, I just don’t like them.”
Again with the damn pausing. Part of me knew it was because the district attorney was speaking, but another part of me knew that Levi was doing it on purpose.
“I’ll speak with my clients, and let you know,” he stated before hanging up.
Turning back to Richard he said, “The DA will drop all charges if you give them everything they need to know about the drugs. That means giving up Hector as well.”
“Will anyone else know about Hector?”
“I doubt it, it would only make them look worse, and since the drugs are still being distributed, it would be like putting a Band-Aid on a cracking dam.”
“Okay?” He looked up at his parents, who just nodded.
“Yes!” I squealed.
Suddenly a room full of eyes were focused on me. Realizing my outburst, I shrank back into my seat. “Sorry,” I apologized.
Levi stared at me, shaking his head before taking the rest of the Archibalds into the adjoining room.
“Lame,” Richard grinned at me.
“You wound me with your words, and just when I was beginning to like you.”
Rolling his eyes at me, he turned to walk away and stopped, “I’m not saying thank you or anything, because it’s kind of your job to help me—”
“Just go.”
Little brat… but when I looked at the situation retrospectively, he wasn't half-bad.
When he was gone, Atticus came up beside me, and his baby blue eyes looked me over.
“How did you do it?” he asked
“Do what?”
“Don’t play dumb! How’d you get to do the conference?”
I smiled. “While you were searching for Mr. Archibald, I was upstairs winning over the kid. I did say ‘game on’, remember?”
He popped his jaw and nodded. “It ain’t over yet, Cunning.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I told him.
“Why don’t you both just whip it out already, so we can measure?” Raymond interjected.
Raymond had light brown skin and dark brown eyes. He was one of the first associates Levi hired when he started, making him at least in his late twenties or early thirties.
Atticus and I ceased our spat, and moved to help the other associates pack up the case files that were scattered all over the ground. By the time we were done, a row of taxis were all parked in waiting outside of the house and Levi was already at the door with his jacket on.
“Good work, head home, you all look horrible,” was all he said.
As he looked over to where I was standing, I immediately looked away and raised my hand to signal the driver of our complementary taxi.
The moment the cab stopped at my feet, I threw myself inside of it. I didn’t want to be left alone with him again…I didn’t think I could handle it.
“Hello?” I answered my phone without thinking, as I gave my address to the driver.
Shit.
“You ran.”
“You said to go home.”
He snickered, and for some reason it sounded sexier over the phone. “You did well today.”
“Are you going to call Atticus and tell him the same thing?”
I didn’t want to be treated differently… and yet some small part of me did. I was just confused.
“I didn’t need to call him, because unlike you, he didn’t run away, he actually approached me while you were busy flinging yourself into the cab. After all, we just won a big case without even going to court.”
Of course he did! Kiss-ass.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time—”
“Who said there was going to be a next time?”
“You just said I did a good job.”
“I said you did well
today
. Tomorrow is a brand new day. Plus, there are still sixteen students left. Prepare yourself for Monday.”
“Prepare myself?”
“Goodnight Thea.”
“Wait…” I almost pleaded into the receiver, but he was already gone, “Urgh!”
“Tough day?” the cabby asked.
“No. Tough professor.”
“Stick it out. I’m sure it’ll be worth it in the end.”
“God, I hope so.”
If it wasn’t, I was torturing myself for nothing.
All I wanted to do was get home as quickly as I could and crawl into bed. As I walked up to the front door, I slipped my heels off and relished the feel of the cool floor. I opened the door and was welcomed by Selene’s loud greeting.
“You were badass!” she squealed, as she jumped up from behind the couch.
“Thanks—” I replied.
Before I could utter another word, a shiny glint caught my eye.
“What the hell is that in your nose?” I asked sternly.
“You like it?” she cooed, touching the ring.
I could feel my eyebrow twitch.
“Selene, that better be fake, or so help me God, I will rip it out of your nose.”
“What’s the big deal—?”
“Take it out.
Now.
”
“Thea!”
“Now.”
“Ah! Why do you always have to do this? You're my sister, not my mother,” she snapped, as she took it out of her nose and handed it to me.
Opening the living room window, I threw it out into the yard. I heard it hit the walkway with a tiny
dink
, and then, it was lost from sight.
“Whether or not you like it Selene, I’m your legal guardian, and that sort of makes me your mom
and
your sister. When you turn eighteen, you can pierce whatever body part you like, but until that day, I don’t want to see another piercing or hear about it.”
“You sound more and more like
her
every day.”
That hurt.
“That was low… even for you,” I muttered.
She made no reply as she threw herself back unto the couch.
“Turn of the lights when you’re done,” I told her as I walked away.
Picking up my things, I dragged myself into my room. Falling onto my bed, I reached into my purse looking at the napkin that Levi had given me during our week together.
One free rant.
“
Congrats on the win. You didn’t even need me for this one,” Tristan said as he strolled into my office and placed his feet on my desk. He was the only person who could get away with doing that shit.
“For some reason, it almost feels like I didn’t even do anything to earn my win.” I said.
“Well, that makes it even sweeter,” Tristan said. “Work smarter, not harder,” he reminded me.
“I guess.”
“Dude, seriously? You have to get her out of your system man, it’s been two weeks already and you’ve spent more time thinking about the time that you were together, than when you were actually together.”
“I’ve tried! Don’t you think I’ve tried? It’s her damn fault, and she knows it too. She told me she was going to ruin all other women for me, and she fucking meant it! I picked three women up and I couldn’t even bring myself to leave with them.”
“What was wrong with them?”
“They weren’t her!” I shouted at him as though it should have been obvious. “They laughed at all the wrong times, and they couldn’t even hold a conversation.”
“Please remember you’re comparing them to an Ivy League educated female, whose mother was a year away from being nominated to Supreme Court judge.”
“You know?” I asked.
I hadn’t said a word about that to anyone. I wondered who else might have known about Ms. Cunning’s family history.
“Yeah, thanks for keeping that a secret, you prick. I nearly lost my cool when she said that I used to work for her mother.”
She was telling people now? Well at least that was one less thing holding her back. She had a royal flush in her hands, and she wasn’t playing any of her cards. If she wanted to make it, she had to stop treating her advantages as though they were handicaps.
“Is she anything like her mother?” I had never met
The Shark,
but that wasn’t for lack of trying.
“The world cannot handle another Margaret Cunning. She was a genius… and such a cutthroat bitch, that people’s heads rolled right off their shoulders as she walked by. I don’t even know how to describe that year of my life. If you can make it six months with
The Shark
—”
“You can make it anywhere,” I finished for him.
He nodded, as he grabbed a Snickers bar out of my desk. “I don’t think she was on good terms with her mother though,” Tristan said, as he tore open the wrapper and took a bite.
“Who?”
“Thea. At the bar I gave her my condolences for her loss, and she told me not to, because her mother was a horrible person. I don’t know what that was all about, but most people tend to not speak ill of the dead, especially if that person is their own mother.”
“Yeah?”
It was all I could think to say.
So what was her story? The more I thought about it, the less it made sense. She was living in her mother’s old house, but she didn’t have any photos of her anywhere. She never brought her up, and the one time I did, she was ready to bite my head off.
Why did Thea hate her mother? And if she hated her so much, why was she following in her footsteps?
No matter how many times I turned the story over in my mind, I couldn’t make sense of it. Thea Cunning was a true woman, and like a true woman, she was an enigma wrapped up in a mystery.
P A S T
D A Y 5
“What’s the matter?” I asked, taking a seat on his lap.
He shook his head, and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Nothing.”
“You’re a horrible liar.”
“Ah, my pride,” he joked, but he didn't really seem to be in the mood for anything.
Sighing, I sat up, reached over the couch, grabbed a napkin from the side table, and quickly scribbled a note on it before I handed it to him.
“One free rant?” he read.
“Yep, you get one free rant, about anything, for as long as you need, and when you’re done, I won’t say anything. We’ll just move on like it never even happened.”
He looked at me for a moment before reaching over to get another napkin off the table. He wrote on it and handed it right back.
“I’m not going to have anything to rant about within the next two days Levi.”
“That’s why there isn’t an expiration date on it. Even when were not together, you can call me up, and cash that in. If you don’t promise to use yours, I’m not going to use mine.”
“Fine.”
Did he always have to be so difficult?
He lifted his pinky.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You have to do it, or I won’t believe you,” he said with a grin so wide, I just wanted to kiss and slap him at the same time.
Sighing, I locked my pinky with his. “Yeah, this definitely makes it legal and binding.”
“Can I cash this in yet?”
Closing my mouth, I waited.
“My ex-wife,” he stated, pausing as if to test my reaction to those two words.
I ignored the alarms going off my head for a moment, and tried my best to stay composed and to keep my poker face in place.
“My ex-wife has been driving me insane for the last few weeks,” he continued, and I noticed his grip on me tightened, just slightly. “We were only married for three years before I found out she had been having an affair with my business partner. I left them both to start my own practice.
“In the beginning it was fine. Neither of them bothered much with me, because apparently, they expected me to fail. Starting a new firm in this economy is almost impossible, but I was dedicated. I was going to come back and tear them both down.
“It’s taken me a few years, but I’ve finally managed to get back on top. The only thing is that I no longer give a shit about either of them. I want to be the best lawyer I can be, for myself, not them. Fuck them. The only problem is, the higher I get, the bigger a target my firm becomes.
“My ex-wife’s been trying to steal clients new and old. My former partner has friends in Capital Hill, you know, the financial fraud agency, and they keep trying to railroad me at every turn. I’ve been audited every other year since my first big case. There are days when I want to walk into his office with a bat, and do what I should have done the moment I found about their affair...”
I sat up more, wrapping my arms around his neck, but not saying anything.
“It’s like high school never ended with them, grown adults acting like fucking children! And the only way I can fight back is to avoid them both and keep winning cases. But that isn’t enough, I want to close off that chapter of my life completely.
“I want to forget about her. I met her once since the divorce, and you know what she told me? That I wasn’t man enough, that I was too good, too nice. And for months I racked my brains, trying to figure out what the fuck it meant to be ‘too good’.
“I’m sorry I don’t drive a Harley, or feel the need to start brawls to prove I have fucking balls. She hurt me, I got over it, and now, I just want to work in peace. I sound… pathetic, don’t I?” he groaned, dropping his head back.
“I know I said that I wouldn’t say anything, but can I amend the conditions of your voucher for just one statement?”
“Sure, why not?” he muttered half-heartedly, keeping his gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Sitting up on my knees, right between his thighs, I kissed his cheek. “Your ex-wife has to be the biggest damn fool in the state, and she’s probably kicking herself right now, which is why she’s trying so hard to reinsert herself into your life. But it’s her loss, my gain… at least for the next two days at any rate,” I said, as I gently sucked and kissed my way down his neck.
He pulled me back, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Is that’s all you’re going to say?”
“What more needs to be said? You used your rant card and now we move on. So can I finish now?” I asked, as I resumed kissing his lips.
He breathed out deeply and allowed himself to relax, as I reached into his pants and grabbed on to his member. I could feel him hardening in my hands with each stroke.
“Sometimes I think to myself that you, that this, is all a dream,” he moaned, shifting under me.
“I’m one hundred percent real,” I assured him as I gently squeezed, a simple reminder that we were both real, that we were both here, and that this was really happening.
Reaching up, he pulled the shirt off of me, grasping both of my breasts with his hands and I shivered at his touch. He kept his eyes on me, as he kissed the both of them, licking around my nipples before gently taking them between his teeth. I winced, both in pleasure and pain.
“Levi… ah,” I moaned, as one of his hands slipped downwards from my breasts, and came to rest in-between my legs.
Letting go of him completely, I leaned back and rocked against his fingers.
“Damn… you. I… I… fuck I—”
“You what?” he grinned, as he slipped another finger into me.
He leaned back against the pillows, and watched me as I ground myself against his hand.
“You… ah…” I moaned, as he increased the pressure on my nipples.
“I, what? Come on baby, complete sentences please.”
“Fuck you.”
“You already are,” he grinned. “Or would you like me to stop…?”
And just like that, his hands froze, and I grunted in frustration, and crushed his lips against my own. My tongue slipped into his mouth, brushing against his, as tried to get him moving again. But instead, he pulled out, completely breaking away from my lips to lick his fingers.
He smirked as he regarded me. “How badly do you want it?”
“Mmmmmm,” I whined.
“Use your words,” he instructed.
That stupid smirk of his, and those damn green eyes— “I fucking hate you.”
“Wrong words,” he said, his tone cold and menacing.
He moved towards me then, faster than I ever saw him move. He was rough with me as he flipped me back onto couch, driving me downwards. I grabbed on to the armrest, bracing myself for his sexual fury.
He kissed my back, moving upwards until his lips barely brushed against the curve of my neck. “Since you can’t say what you want, I’m just going to have to take what I want. Don’t you
dare
move,” he warned.
He disappeared from behind me, and I remained on the couch, my knees locked, my knuckles white against the armrest, and my heart racing in anticipation of the pleasure that was to come, as adrenaline surged through my body. I was frozen in place. Unable to move, even if I wanted to.
He returned seconds later, and kissed his way down my spine. I shivered, but I still didn't move. I could feel him right behind me, his chest hovering over my back and I could feel the heat coming off his body in waves. I shivered once more, and my skin broke out into goose bumps. He pressed himself against my ass, and I felt myself tremble at the heat of it. I wanted to clamp my legs together; he had made me so wet, it was almost embarrassing.
“How badly do you want it?” he asked again, as he pressed the tip against my opening.
“If you have to ask—”
Slam.
“Fuck!” he hissed, tightening his hold on me, as he slid his shaft in all the way to the base. My mouth dropped open. There simply wasn’t enough words to describe the intensity of the pleasure I felt, and as he thrust into me, deeper and harder, I found that my hunger for him was insatiable. I wanted more, I
needed
more.
“More—please,” I begged.
I knew the voice was mine, but it didn’t sound like me at all. Since when did I sound like such a porn star?
“Yes!” I shouted, wanting more, more, more…
I moaned, my cries echoing throughout the house as I felt my climax nearing. I dug my nails into the chair and threw my head back, screaming his name at the ceiling. My head was spinning, my vision was blurred, my toes curled, I was reaching heaven in the most beautiful way.
“Fuck, Thea,” he grunted, one hand on my hip the other on my shoulder as he fucked me harder.
“Yes. God yes!” He was amazing, he was fucking amazing.
“I can’t—”
“Not yet,” he demanded, but, I was seeing stars. Never in my life had I ever felt like this.
I couldn’t hold back any longer.
“Levi!”
He gripped on tightly, burying himself in me over and over, until he stilled for a moment.
“Thea,” he grunted before rested on top of me.
My hair stuck to my face, and my breathing was short as I tried to regain my senses.
“Mmmm…. we’re definitely doing that again,” I slurred, still drunk from the sheer force of my orgasm.
“Definitely.”
When she meant we were going to do it again, I didn’t think we would end up doing it three more times; in the shower, in her kitchen, and on her bed. Jesus, I was spent. Her sexual appetite was becoming voracious, and I was surprised that she could still move, and that I could see straight.
She rested against my chest, reading her what she called her ‘least favorite, favorite book’,
The Great Gatsby
. She was a little weird, but I liked it. Even without really knowing me, she still seemed to understand what I needed, and when I needed it.
I had been nervous to talk to her about my ex-wife, and I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or do anything to kill our mood. But I had gotten yet another email from Odile, and I was just about ready to snap. I could only hope that she needed to use her rant slip soon so we could be on equal footing. I felt like I was depending on her way too much, and it had only been five days.
I blinked and brought my focus back to her. She had put her book down and was now staring at me.
“A penny for your thoughts?” I asked her.
She smiled; she had the most beautiful smile. “Only a penny, Mr. Black? What type of girl do you think I am?”
“You’re right, my apologies,” I said. “So, what’s the price for a slice of Thea Cunning’s thoughts?”
“One of your own,” she answered, her eyes studying my face intently.
“I have far too many of them,” I told her.
“So do I.”
“And here I figured you just said whatever came to your mind,” I teased.
I brushed her hair behind her ear.
“I do… sometimes.”
“What were you thinking about then?”
“Why the hell is he staring at me like that? Doesn’t he know what his eyes do to me… or, well, something of that nature,” she replied once again, far more honestly than I imagined. “And you?”
“That I depend way too much on you, and I wish it were the other way around.” I couldn’t lie to her for some reason.
“What do you mean? You haven’t depended on me for anything.”
She looked like she truly believed that. She had no idea how much of an impact she had on me.
Shaking my head, I looked to her book. “Why is
The Great Gatsby
your least favorite, favorite book? Is it because you hate Jay?”
“No! I hate Daisy,” she said, as she sat up angrily.
This was going to be amusing.
“You hate Daisy?”
“She’s an evil witch!”
“That’s a little harsh,” I laughed.
I enjoyed seeing her get so worked up.
“Oh please! First of all, she marries a man she doesn’t love because he’s rich. But I can forgive that, because, you know, it’s the 1900s, women’s suffrage is just starting to kick in. In fact, I felt bad for her because it was as though her parents were pushing her into it. But then she drank the Kool-Aid.”
“The Kool-Aid?” I asked.
“Yes, the golden Kool-Aid of the rich and fabulous. The next time we meet her, Jay’s back, and she’s all like, ‘let me forget about my husband and child, and go party at my former lover’s house all the damn day.’ ”
“But she truly loved him,” I said, realizing in that moment that I was now defending fictional characters.
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Even if he’s your true love, you’re still married to another man. You either run away with him, or you stay away from him. You don’t
keep
having an affair under your husband’s nose. And what type of person meets her long awaited, true love and doesn’t ask a few questions first? She just jumps onto his private boat, and parties around in his house.”
“Gatsby is the one that called her there, why didn’t he sweep her away?”
“Any man willing to take the rap for murder would have gladly run away with her. But nope, Daisy didn’t want to just have her cake and eat it too, she wanted the bloody pastry chef as well!” she said, with a huff.
She was all worked up now, and she hopped onto her knees, waving the book in front of me.
“And the absolute worst part of it all is the fact that she didn't even have the decency to go to his funeral. She just ran away to live her perfect little life with her husband. She is a horrible, terrible human being, and I wish she would have gotten run over by a yellow buggy!”
I laughed. The look on her face, the passion and rage pouring out her, it was too funny.
“Damn it! Why’d you bring up this book? Now I look crazy,” she groaned, hiding her face under the sheets.
Instead of remedying the situation, it only made me laugh more.
“Stop laughing at me! It’s not my fault. Us English Lit majors tend to be a little weird about books, okay?”
“Thea,” I said, trying my best to stop laughing as I reached for her.
But she turned away. Wrapping my arm around her, I held her through the sheets.
“I’m not laughing because I think you’re weird… though you are for the record, but just a little bit.” She smacked me before I could continue. “I’m laughing because you’re amazing, and I couldn’t help but wonder if you can get this passionate over a fictional story how you must you be with real people. You have a big heart, I can tell by the way you love your books.”