AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Twenty-Six
I slouch on the bed with my back to the headboard and my legs outstretched while Erica huddles beside me, inches away though it feels like the entirety of the universe separates us. She tucks her feet under her, angling toward me, and moves her fingers restlessly for a moment. Then she shoves them under her legs.
She leans one shoulder against the headboard.
I settle a hand on her knee. "You owe me no explanations."
"Yes, I do. Lachlan—" Whatever she'd meant to say is cut off by a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes are glistening again, and I can tell she's fighting the tears. Though I want to drag her into my arms and kiss away her pain, I know that's the last thing I should do. So I squeeze her knee instead.
"I'm in trouble," she says. "It's bad, and I don't see any way out of it."
Erica shifts her weight side to side, edging closer to me though I don't think she realizes she's done that.
I glide my palm up to her thigh.
She stares at my hand, not speaking for several seconds, then she lifts her gaze to mine. "I trusted the wrong man. He was one of those hot guys who turn into hot messes. He charmed me, and I fell for it hook, line, and sinker—except this hook ripped me apart from the inside out."
Anything I might say would sound trite, so I don't speak. I will let her tell the story in her own way and in her own time. But I do clasp her hands and keep my focus on her.
"I was involved with Presley Cichon. He seduced me, and I believed every honeyed word he fed me." She shakes her head, her lips curling slightly in a rueful expression. "I should've known he was using me. Chicago's most eligible bachelor wouldn't date an accounting nerd."
"Nerd?" I spit, then touch my lips to the back of her hand. "I told you never to call yourself that again. You are a stunning, sensual woman. The kind any man would be fortunate to take as a wife."
Her eyes flare wide, and she doesn't blink or move, her mouth partway open.
What did I say that stunned her? The truth smacks me in the face. I said any man would be fortunate to have her as a wife. I didn't mean I want to marry her, though she must have assumed I did mean that.
Erica shakes off her shock and continues. "Anyway, Presley comes from a rich family. Old money, the kind that buys anything and anyone, and I guess I let myself be seduced by the luxury of wealth too. I slept with him, gave him all my trust, let myself be happy with this amazing guy. Only he wasn't amazing." Her shoulders crumple, and she slants forward, catching her forehead in her palm. When she speaks again, her voice quivers and her tone is rife with pain. "He was a goddamn fucking liar."
My entire body tenses, and I compress my lips. That bastard Presley should be the one who's anguished, not Erica. He used and discarded her like rubbish.
"What did he do to you?" I ask carefully.
"I worked for his family's accounting firm, one of many businesses they own. His mother put him in charge of the firm after he got his MBA because she thought the job would force him to grow up. That's where I met him." She lifts her other hand to cover her forehead with both palms. "I should've known better than to date my boss."
"You did nothing wrong."
"That's not what everyone else thinks." She grasps her upper arms. "Presley embezzled a quarter of a million dollars from a dozen of the firm's clients, all of them senior citizens. He framed me for the crime. The day after I was arrested, when I got out on bond, Presley tracked me down and bragged about how he set me up. It was my word against his, and the Cichon family is connected everywhere. I'm screwed." She hugs herself tight and rocks a wee bit. "And it's my own fault."
I grind my teeth, my hand on her thigh curling into a fist.
"Presley kept asking to use my computer, said his was glitching, and I… I am such an idiot. I gave him the password for my work computer." Tears escape her lids to trickle down her face. She sniffles and swipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. "About a month ago, someone gave the police an anonymous tip that I was embezzling funds from the firm. Since Presley used my computer, it looked like I was guilty. I told the DA my suspicions about Presley, but there was no evidence. All of it pointed to me. When the shit hit the fan, Presley came out smelling like fresh linen and I stank of guilt." She sniffles again, her whole body trembling while the tears flow faster. "I was fired. They're pursuing criminal charges. I found a lawyer to take me on pro bono, but she doesn't have the resources to investigate Presley. Odds are, I'll go to prison—unless I take a plea deal, which I will not do because it means admitting I'm guilty. So, it's off to the big house for me."
I drag her onto my lap, enfolding her in arms and cradling her to my chest. The tears pour out. She buries her face against my neck and clings to me like she never wants to let go. I stroke her hair, murmuring words that might not actually be words. I have no idea what I'm saying, only that I need to comfort her. Christ, she's been betrayed and used so badly that it's no wonder our arrangement distresses her.
"You're staying with me tonight, not here," I say. "Then I'm hiring you the best bloody solicitor in the world."
Her head pops up, and she gazes at me through a haze of tears. "Solicitor?"
"A lawyer. To defend you."
Sniffling, she shakes her head. "I like Doretta. I'm not firing her. And besides, I can't let you do that. I didn't tell you about this so you'd give me money. Considering you attacked Presley to protect me—three times—I needed to tell you the truth. But this is my mess, not yours."
"Wrong." I cradle her in my arms, slanting my head down until our noses touch. "This is Presley Cichon's mess. And he will pay for what he's done. I'll make damn sure of it."
She rubs her eyes and pushes off my lap. "You're leaving in four days."
"No." I swing my legs off the bed, turning my back to Erica, and snatch my mobile off the table. "I won't leave until you're settled."
