The Dirty Series 2(76)

“Angelica, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m the one,” I cry, a couple of tears spilling over onto my cheeks. “I’m the one who’s been feeding information to an outside group so they can steal your money. All I know is one name.”

Jett raises his hands to his hair, runs his fingers through it, and stares at me like I’m speaking a foreign language.

“My brother—he was in trouble. He owed money to a man named Charlie. He threatened to—” I shake my head. All this sounds like an invented excuse, and in the end, does it matter why I did what I did? “I did it, Jett. Every week I’ve been downloading information from your computer and giving it to Charlie. He’s got to be in charge of a crime ring of some kind, because he’s got people—”

“Angelica,” he says, the word a razor that goes straight into my heart. “What the hell were you thinking?”

My chin quivers.

I hate myself.

“I was protecting my brother.”

“Is that all?”

Jett’s question hits me like a meteor rocketing through the atmosphere and slamming into the earth’s surface, causing destruction across the planet.

“In the beginning....”

“That’s enough,” he says, holding his hand in the air. “That’s more than enough.”

There’s a heavy silence in the room.

I can hardly breathe.

Then Jett looks at me with disgust in his eyes. “I should have known.”

I lick my lips, try to find the words, but he continues.

“I should have known that you were up to something pathetic that night. Who fucking sneaks out like that in the middle of the night? Jesus, Angelica, are you some rebellious teenage bitch who doesn’t want to own up to what she’s really doing behind the scenes?”

If you hadn’t been such a stupid bitch and installed the program correctly the first time....

Charlie’s words, echoed by Jett’s, ring in my ears so loudly that I can’t hear what he’s saying. It doesn’t matter what he says. The hurt—the rage—on his face is so palpable that it makes my hands shake.

“I wanted to stop,” I say, and Jett shakes his head, his lip curling.

“At any point,” he says, his tone soft and sharp again, “you could have come to me. I have the resources to deal with....” His jaw works. “I don’t even know what to say to you, Angelica. I can’t believe you would do this.”

“I know.”

“Was it all a lie, then?”

Jett’s accountant has his eyes glued to his desk, and the man is holding perfectly still. I can imagine he wants to get out of here as quickly as possible, but there’s no graceful way to make an exit—not at this point. My face goes hotter. If Jett would just cool down, just listen to me, then maybe....

“Tell me.” His green eyes are flashing, locked on mine, burning me up from the inside. “Was it all a lie?”

“It wasn’t—”

“The elevator. That first day. Was that a lie?”

“It was the first time I ever saw you.”

“Were you there to steal from me?”

“I was doing what I had to do.”

“And that flood at your apartment? Another lie, so you could get closer to me?”

It’s an effort to relax my jaw enough to speak. “My apartment didn’t flood. But that doesn’t mean it was all—”

“Just stop.”

I take a shuddering breath and pinch my lips together. I want him to know that I love him. I want him to know that I was afraid, I was doing this because I was afraid, because there was never a moment when my family’s lives weren’t at risk. What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to do?

“If I could make a suggestion, Mr. Brandon,” the accountant interjects, his voice soft, appeasing. “It’s probably time that we contact the authorities. And your attorneys.”





Chapter Thirty-Six





Jett



There’s a strange pain in my chest, a tightness in my skin that makes me want to rip the buttons off the collar of my shirt, throw my jacket to the floor, anything to be free.

Instead, I sit quietly, looking at Angelica.

She looks back at me, eyes wide, tears leaking miserably from beneath her lashes.

For all I know, it’s just crocodile tears.

Something in my heart hardens, a rock sitting in the center of my chest.

Twenty minutes ago I was looking forward to sitting across from Angelica at some exclusive hole-in-the-wall place, watching her face light up with each new dish, listening to her tell me about her day at work, about her horrible boss. Telling her that I love her.

Now....