Home > Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(41)

Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(41)
Author: Meghan March

Cav crosses the room and offers his hand. “Must have been pretty important if you had to tear your bag apart to get at it.”

I shrug, crouching down to pick it up. “I forgot about the deadline.” There, that’s part of the truth.

I walk over to the counter and set the folder down before returning to clean up the rest of the clothes. They all need to go in the laundry anyway. When I make my way back to the kitchen, Cav has the case file open, and a muscle ticks in his jaw.

“This is the guy you went to see at Rikers?”

I’m shocked he remembers, but then again, Cav seems to store away almost every detail I tell him.

“Yeah.”

He slaps the file shut. “Why the hell are you still on this case if you quit your job? It makes no sense. Give it back to the firm and have them deal with it. This isn’t the kind of scum you need to be dealing with. You’re better than that.” He turns to face me, his jaw tense, anger emblazoned on every feature.

I’m not sure how to respond to him, but the one thing I’m definitely not going to tell him is about my upcoming trip to Rikers. So I give him the most truth I can.

“I won’t be working on it much longer. I’m turning it back over to the firm.”

“Good.” He scrubs his hand through his hair, the dark locks now deliciously messy. “I’m gonna take a shower, and then let’s get something to eat. Check with Holly about your brother and if she hasn’t heard from him, let’s take dinner over to her. Pregnant woman has to eat.”

I’m touched by his concern for Holly. Cav’s a good man. “Sounds perfect. I’ve got a couple more calls to make, but I’ll be done by the time you get out.”

Cav reaches out and pulls me into him for a hug and presses a kiss to my hair. “I love you, Greer.”

It’s still so new to be saying the words on a regular basis, but they come so easily. “I love you too.”

He releases me and heads for my bedroom. I kind of like how at home he feels in my space.

I wait until I hear the water come on in the bathroom before I call Rikers and put in a request to see my client. It’s right at the end of the shift, and whoever is on the other line clearly just wants to get home.

“That’s fine. I’m not checking with the prisoner today, though. Be here tomorrow by nine o’clock with the rest of the visitors, and if he refuses to see you, it’ll be a wasted trip. Up to you.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be there.”

Guilt for doing this behind Cav’s back gnaws at me, but this is my professional reputation I’m trying to salvage. And after tomorrow, it’ll all be over anyway, and we’ll go back to having no secrets between us.

Have you ever had a premonition? Or even just an uneasy feeling that something is going to go horribly wrong? I can’t shake the feeling on the cab ride out to Rikers.

Yes, cab ride. I could have called Ed, but then this trip would have been run through Creighton, and I definitely didn’t want my brother to know about it any more than I wanted Cav to be aware.

I can’t shake that feeling, though, like something terrible is going to happen. With my luck lately, there’ll be a prison riot with a full lockdown, and I’ll get stuck inside. Cav and Creighton will have to tear Rikers apart brick by brick to get me out. I can only imagine the lecture I’d get from Creighton then.

Maybe I should have brought Ed . . .

Last night after I called the prison, I called Holly to see if she wanted some dinner, company, or both. Creighton had just walked in the door with her favorite fried chicken in the city, and she was happily moaning about how amazing it was. Creighton liberated the phone from her.

“You’re home?”

“Yes, I came as soon as I heard. Is there anything I can do?”

Creighton sighed before replying, and once again I felt like the little sister who was a constant screwup. I’m not that girl anymore.

“Nothing you can do. We’re all just waiting on the autopsy results, and that’ll determine what’s next.”

“And Dom?” My question was quiet because I didn’t want Cav to overhear.

“He’s in charge of looking out for himself. He doesn’t need either of us worrying about him.”

That was probably the truth.

“And Aunt Katherine?”

“Elisabetta said the last she knew, she was heading to an overnight spa place and hadn’t come back yet. She didn’t remember which one. I’ve got Cannon trying to track her down.”

So once again, my brother had everything under control, down to checking with the housekeeper. “Okay. Well, let me know if you need anything from me.”

“Just stay out of trouble, Greer.”

Again, the fuckup feeling grew exponentially.

“Will do. Glad you’re okay, Creighton.”

Recalling the conversation while in the back of a cab headed for Rikers Island almost surely makes it a little more ironic.

“Just stay out of trouble, Greer.”

That’s what I’m working on, brother dearest.

I’ll be in and out, and no one will be the wiser. All I need is my client’s signature on the letter requesting my withdrawal from the case, and this will all become a bad memory.

The process to get into the prison is almost as hard as getting out. Because I don’t have a formal appointment, I have to wait longer than I hoped, and the Saturday crowd waiting to visit loved ones is out of control.

One woman waits with a baby bouncing on her lap. She’s dressed neatly in black pants and a pink-and-white striped shirt that matches the baby’s onesie.

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