The Good Fight (Time Served Book 3) by Julianna Keyes

Author:Julianna Keyes [Keyes, Julianna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carina Press
Published: 2016-06-30T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

I don’t call her. I don’t give her the chance to prepare some bullshit story she can use to try to cover her ass, assuming she even cares enough to try. The concierge recognizes me and believes me when I tell him I’m expected, and I take the elevator to Susan’s floor, pacing back and forth in the tiny box, striding out when I finally reach the top.

The roads were relatively clear at this time of night, so it’s not even ten o’clock when I knock. I figured she’d be home packing since she has to leave early to drive to Milwaukee tomorrow, and through the door I can hear the faint strains of a rap song I haven’t heard since college.

I knock again, louder, and after a second the music stops. A moment later she pulls open the door, brow wrinkled in confusion. “Oscar?” she says, peering past me as though I might have brought company. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?” I’m still dressed in my work clothes, white button up and navy pants, loafers. I left the jacket and tie in the car, but it doesn’t matter. Even wearing baggy scrub bottoms and a tank top, hair wet from a shower, Susan holds all the power. Always has.

She’s frowning when she steps back to let me enter, closing the door and peering at me in concern. “Is everything all right?” she asks. “You’re flushed. Is Jade okay? The Green Space? Did something happen?”

I take a few steps then turn, deciding to heed Jade’s advice after all. If Susan didn’t do this, if it’s some sort of weird misunderstanding, I don’t want to destroy everything we’ve built over the past month. I don’t want to lose the only thing that’s made me feel anything in years. Good and bad.

“Did you ask Larry Lurst to write an article on the Green Space?” I ask.

Her eyes never leave mine as she considers her response. Tell the truth and get in trouble; lie and get in trouble. Her silence is the only answer I need, but she confirms it when she takes a deep breath and says, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it...” Her fingers twist in the fabric at her hips, and I know she’s guilty before she speaks. “Because it’s a good idea,” she says hurriedly, “and because I needed to show the hospital that I’m a good person.”

Even though I’d suspected as much for the past hour, the words still stun me. She could take one of those shiny copper pots from the kitchen and club me over the head with it, and it would be less shocking. “Fuck, Susan.”

“I’m sorry,” she adds as an afterthought. Strike two.

“You lied about everything?” I have never felt like such a loser. Like a big, lurching idiot, sniffing around for pussy and some sort of inspiration, desperate and dedicated and thoroughly fucking duped.

“I never lied,” she says. The doctor mask is firmly in place. She’s distant and placid, all facts and figures.

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