Legacy (Sociopath Series Book 2)(18)
One problem with that scenario: I would not be with Leo. The thought makes me feel—well, f*ck all right now, thank you drugs—but something in my brain hisses that it isn’t logical. Maybe it’s the thought of her getting all Orange is the New Black with a bunch of hairy hormone factories in cheap lipstick, I don’t know; just doesn’t sit right in the pit of my mangled stomach. I already lost Tuija and it still feels weird to think about that, as if she’s going to come crashing through the door at any second and haul my ass back to the office.
She isn’t. Life’s a bitch, and then your bitch dies.
“I can get you a lawyer if you want,” the detective says, his brow still twisted in confusion, “but all I’m trying to do is get an idea of what happened. We know you were shot. Miss Reeves seems to think she shot you. Personally, some broad puts a bullet in my belly, I’m gonna have her quietly put away and then get on with my life. I’m not gonna ask what you did to encourage it, but it happens. Women get crazy.” He purses his lips, pushes air through them in a hiss. “Used to be in this job that we saw a lot of beat-up women. Still happens. But let me tell you, these days, we also see a lot of beat-up men.”
“It was an accident,” I repeat in a tired voice.
“I guess we’ll see what she says to that.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“You wouldn’t be the first guy to want to cover his own ass.”
“Look. She was a moron for carrying the gun like that, but she doesn’t deserve to be interrogated like some murderer. The doctors said the surgery went well—it’s not like she’s maimed me for life.” I bring a hand up and rub along the rough stubble on my jaw. Feels like it belongs to someone else. “Tell her I’m not mad. I forgive her.”
He tuts. “Yeah. You might change your mind about that when the drugs wear off.”
“I forgive her.”
He still doesn’t believe me. Perhaps, when Leo realises what I’m trying to do, he’ll believe her…?
The chair scrapes back again as he gets up, huffing to himself. “Love’s a funny f*ckin’ beast.”
“Tell me about it.”
Really.
Posner was right, by the way. I totally changed my mind when the drugs wore off.
CHAPTER THREE
Aeron
Charity (noun): socially acceptable form of subterfuge
GO FUND ME: BUY AERON LORE A CONSCIENCE
I dont kno about u guys but ive had enough. This f*cker gets away with everythin. Yeah yeah he didn’t kill his mom (like anyone believes that), then he gets together with this new chick and its just a big coincidence that his last gf dies! Rite! Oh and his dad “went missing” when he was a kid just like his brothers dad “went missing.” U seeing a theme here? Im not even gonna get into the fact that his “brother” looks JUST LIKE HIM. That is not his brother, its his SON. Why would he even hide that? I ask u.
In case u didnt know, Aeron Lore owns like half the worlds news channels or something and newspapers and this SilentWitn3ss “put the news in the hands of the people” bullshit. Basically he uses all his money & power to stay out of jail which is wrong. But thats the real world for u. We r all struggling with food and medical bills and this guy is plastering fotos of mutilated teen girls all over primetime TV cause it makes him more money. My moms friend sally knows Jamie perkins cousins and they r LIVID.
We cant put him in prison where he belongs. But we can do SOMETHING.. I for one wud like to donate money 2 medical research so we can buy this guy a conscience since he appears to have one muthaf*cka of a black hole where his shud be. Whose with me?
UPDATE #1: $4000?! holy shit where did that come from?! Here was me thinkin I was alone in all this
UPDATE #2: omg u guys. $12000?! Ur amazing! Lets keep spreading the word and maybe even get this bastard locked away like the animal he is!!!
“Aeron. Stop reading that page.” Leo, who has taken to entering my office without knocking, is suddenly peering over my shoulder. She walks her fingers to my shirt collar, absent-mindedly stroking the naked skin beneath. “You’ll just make yourself mad.”
“Fuck that.” I grab her fingers, plant a kiss over her knuckles, and then scoot forward to type.
“What are you doing?”
Clickety click. “Donating.”
“Aeron!” She lunges forward, grabbing at me. “You can’t just draw attention to this crap—”
“Oh, be quiet. Come on, Ash is my son? Seriously? Who is this even news for?” I roll my eyes. “Buzzfeed. Perez Hilton. Huff Post, if they’re lucky.”
Leo attempts to wrestle my hands off the keyboard, but then she just ends up in my lap, all gentle weight and warm curves.
I catch her chin and squeeze it, grinning. “Humour me, sweetheart.”
She glares from beneath a side-swept curtain of blond hair.
“I’m getting in here before Montgomery does.” How that pisstoad managed to recover from the twink scandal, I’ll never know. His wife even stuck by him. “How much should I donate?”
“There’s someone here to meet you.” Her voice is monotone and icy, but there’s no mistaking the slight wiggle of her hips. She’s sitting right on my cock. And knows it.