Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(43)

“I don’t understand what this has to do with you being in some kind of trouble, Mia.”

I sigh. “I told you it was complicated. I’m trying to make it as uncomplicated as possible.”

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay.”

“This building, it was in terrible shape. It was run-down, in disrepair, and it was owned by this shady businessman who was rich as hell, but owned a lot of slummy buildings that he rented to people who were down on their luck, or who couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. He cut corners all the time, but sometimes things would be broken for months before he’d get around to hiring a repair man, if he ever even bothered to do that. We filed formal complaints with the city, but this guy had so many officials in his pocket that none of the complaints ever made a difference. It’s amazing what money can do to make people turn the other way when you’re not doing the right thing.”

Caleb’s eyes widen, like I actually smacked him, then he looks down at his hands. I reach out and clasp his hand with mine.

“Hey,” I tell him. “I don’t mean-”

“I know,” he replies, and he gives me a halfhearted smile. “It’s true, what you said.”

“I went off to college in Massachusetts, on a full scholarship. I didn’t get home often—we didn’t have spare money for the airfare—but when I graduated last year, I moved back to Chicago to be closer to him. The building had really gone to hell. I tried to convince him to let me move us out to a nicer place, but he wouldn’t have it. I mean, I couldn’t have afforded much better at the time…I was just picking up clients, but I could’ve afforded better than that.”

Caleb is gradually moving closer, leaning into me. I’m guessing he’s starting to think that maybe this story isn’t as bad as he anticipated, but I’m just now getting there. He’s cradling my hand in his now, rubbing his thumbs in a soothing circuit across my wrist.

“I saw news of the explosion on the television,” I begin with a sniffle. “I was meeting with a potential client in a cafe. I looked up, and I just…I was in shock. It seems as if my dad died right away. I hope he did, at least. Amelia, she was on her way home from the grocery store, so she didn’t take the brunt of the impact, but she had burns all over her body. They ruled it a faulty gas line, but…we complained about so much shit in that building over the years. It was due to neglect, I know it was, but the owner—Jack Kemp—he was pretty much untouchable.”

“Your friend Marcus, was he-”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “No, he wasn’t there. Anyway, Kemp gave our families a small stipend. It was enough for me to pay for my dad’s funeral, but not much else, considering we had lost everything. There were a few survivors of the blast, but they died within a few days after the explosion. Amelia, she’s the only one who survived.

“Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have any insurance, and what little help Marcus and I were able to find for her wasn’t enough to cover her through the end of her treatment, if there ever is an end of her treatment. It had only been four months when I…did what I did, and her bills were already more than she could ever pay. Her apartment blew up; everything she had was gone, and she’d never be able to get out of that debt. How can a person lose everything twice?

“A few ambulance chasers came to Marcus, wanting him to sue, but the terms were more beneficial to them than they would’ve been to Amelia and Marcus, and Kemp has enough money to tie a case up in court for years, and it might not have even gone their way when it was all said and done. She needed to be moved to a specialized care facility, and she and Marcus needed the money now, not five years from now, or whenever a settlement would be reached.”

A look of understanding flits across Caleb’s face, melting away whatever anger was left.

“Christ, Mia. You stole the money?”

I lower my head, and nod. I can’t look him in the eye, I’m too ashamed.

“And Marcus let you?”

The shame I was feeling dissolves quickly, and I look up, glaring at Caleb. “Nobody lets me do anything.”

“He just stood back while you…what, ran for your life? Is Kemp the one who’s after you?”

“He didn’t stand back, he…Look, I made a mistake, and I left an electronic trail when I stole that money. One of Kemp’s IT people traced it back to me. What’s the point in implicating Marcus when my fingerprints were all over the crime scene? Besides, it was my idea.”

“And Kemp isn’t smart enough to put two and two together and figure out why you stole from him?”


I shrug. “He doesn’t seem to have put it together so far. I’ve been in touch with Marcus. I talked to him just yesterday, and he’s okay.”

“Does he know where you are?”

“No,” I reply. “I’m not that stupid.”

“If Kemp isn’t after you, then who is?”

“A man named Andre Privya. Kemp hired him.”

Caleb shakes his head a little, like he’s trying to make sense of everything I just told him. “How do you know that?”

“I was tracking his communications.”

Caleb lets out this unbelieving huff of air. “He just hired someone to kill you? Over the phone?”