At least, that’s what I thought. I mean, if I had a nickel for every time I heard someone try and use 9/11 to justify their misgivings about Muslims, or even dark-skinned people…well, I’d be pretty well off. Was that who I’d become?
The cabin was quiet; only the faint sound of air blowing and magazine pages rustling could be heard. I felt queasy as I thought about Law’s question. I looked to him, but he only raised an eyebrow.
“I overheard you both talking,” I said, shaking off the gnawing in my gut. “It has nothing to do with his religion.” Law shot me a look and I folded my arms. “Fine, it has a little bit to do with his religion. But can you blame me? He said I was a stalker and that Morris was a ‘good guy’.” I huffed just thinking about it. “How can you be friends with someone like that?”
“What you heard was only a snapshot of the man I know. He never used to sit in an office. He never used to have a desk job. He was out in the shit. He was digging up what others buried. Now he’s…”
“He’s what?” I demanded.
“He’s lost himself.” Law set down his drink, empty save for the ice cubes wet with brown liquid. “I met Matthew years ago when I was just out of Quantico. It was my first sex trafficking case and he just happened to be reporting on it. He nearly got himself arrested trying to break into the company.”
“I still don’t see how…” Law gripped my arm, forcing the words on my tongue to die. Reluctantly I quieted, instead listening to what he had to say. As Law continued, the grip on my forearm lessened, but only a little.
“When you’re a man of law, you’re tied by it. So tied that sometimes it feels like a noose around your neck. You learn to rely on others to pick up what you can’t. Matthew was that man. He called out the shitbags that hid behind bureaucracy and red tape and lawyers. He got the truth out. He might have saved more lives than me.”
Law released me and I quickly turned my glare back to the window. I didn’t want to combat the fury in his golden gaze, so instead I stared at the clouds below. The Jameson Law described was a far cry from the man I’d met.
“I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.” I felt the ghost of a touch on my back, but just as quickly as I sensed it was it gone. “Your beauty, but beyond that, your mettle. You unearthed me, and I guess I was hoping you would…” Law trailed off.
“You were hoping I would what?” I snapped my head back to his, unsure if the emotion tearing through me was one of anger or yearning.
“I was hoping you would help him find his story again.”
If I thought Utah winters were bad, it was nothing compared to the bitter Massachusetts chill. I gripped my coat, wrapping it tighter around me, as another gust of glacial winter wind whipped my cheek. Despite attempts to keep my stony demeanor, I shivered.
“I told you to bring a coat,” Law said, giving me a look.
“This is my coat,” I responded, glaring at Law. It wasn’t like he’d given me much notice. He hadn’t told me where we were going until after we’d gotten in the car. Law sighed and unzipped his jacket.
“What are you doing?” Law put his jacket over my shoulders and placed his hands in his dark jeans. Even though I was instantly warmer, I protested. “I’m not going to take your jacket. You’ll freeze out here!”
“I’ll be fine,” Law said dismissively. “We won’t be out here for long, anyway. I only wanted to show you one thing.”
I shrugged out of the jacket, handing it back to Law. “I’m not going to be the reason for your frostbite.” Law eyed me and the outstretched jacket with slight amusement before turning away. My outstretched hand shivered as the wind twirled around us, whipping bits of snow into small tornados.
“Fine,” I grumbled. I couldn’t take the cold any more and if he didn’t want his coat, then I was going to wear it. Plus, he did look fine. Standing with his hands in his pockets, it looked as if he were standing by a fire, not outside a house on a cold Boston street.
“What are we looking at?” I said through shivering teeth. Even Law’s jacket couldn’t keep my face warm.
“That’s my home.” There was a steely reserve in Law’s words, like he was hiding something. I was used to him hiding from me, though. It was like we were constantly playing a game of truth or dare, and Law always picked dare.
“Why don’t we go inside?” I edged, seeing if he would let on as to why we were standing outside his home and not inside. Plus, I’d have bet it was much warmer in there.
“No one’s there,” Law explained, gaze still transfixed on the snow-covered home. “Well, no one you’d want to meet. Mom and Dad aren’t really present and my sister is gone.” His words stuck in the air, as if frozen by the chill. Neither of us said anything for a while. Though the bitter wind sliced away my warmth and numbed my skin, I didn’t complain. I didn’t even shiver, instead focusing on Law.
His mind was elsewhere again. That tumultuous look only memories could give was evident on his features. A car drove by and the driver leaned out the window, flipped us off, and yelled for us to get out of the middle of the street. Law still didn’t tear his gaze from the house.
“Where’s your sister?” I asked, voice low.
“Not sure.” A light flicked on in the house and Law glared. “She was last seen about thirteen years ago. One minute she was at school and the next she vanished. She’d be twenty-six this month.”
The wind howled. The sky was a bright white just like the snow on the ground. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I should say something. Instead, I took a step toward Law and latched my arm around his. Together we stared at his old home. I realized it probably wasn’t much warmer inside.
We were quite a pair. I was broken, sometimes feeling irreparably damaged. Our relationship was nearly shattered. Yet there, among the ruins of his childhood, Law did something amazing. He gave me a piece of himself to help me rebuild.
“This doesn’t fix everything, Nami,” Law said. “I’m going to have to work for that, I know. But I wanted you to see where it started. You’re the only one I’ve told this.”
Even though the truth he’d shared with me meant more than anything, there was a thought I couldn’t shake. It stuck in my side larger than a thorn, like broken glass. “Would you have even talked to me if Morris hadn’t raped me?”
Law took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Does it matter? I love you. I love your courage, your tenacity, your grit. We’re all products of the world around us, and what happened outside this home thirteen years ago shaped me. I see the world through stolen childhoods and broken homes now. But, Nami, I love how you reacted. You could have caved. You could have twisted. But you bloomed.” Unlatching my arm from his, I twisted to face him. Wind had burned his cheeks and his face was red, but he was still beautiful. Hard, unyielding, a force to be reckoned with. Even the elements couldn’t whip him into submission. Love him or occasionally hate him, he was the only Law that I would obey. As Law opened his mouth to speak, I dove at him, cutting his words at the quick with my kiss.
Twenty-One
Kissing Law was an adventure. His taste sucked me in, his lips kept me tied, and he—the very essence of Law—made me surrender. In the middle of the snowy street, we kissed. I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, lips fused, wind whirring around us, the occasional car driving by and alerting us with a honk. Time seemed to cease for us and our kiss. It was magical. The winter chill started to feel like a fairytale and not a horrid force of nature.
I lost myself in him. The way he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. The way he slanted his mouth to get more of me. The way he cupped his hand on the back of my neck and drew me in. I lost myself in the sensation and the safety of him.
When Law pulled back, I felt delirious and drugged. I reached for him again but he caught my wrist, keeping me at a distance.
“I would love to keep kissing you, Nami.” Law paused, eyelids hooded as if remembering our kiss. I stepped forward, ready to make a new memory, bu
t Law tightened his grip on my wrist and continued. “I would die here, kissing you, but if we don’t leave soon we’ll miss our flight home.”
Reluctantly I agreed and clasped my other hand in Law’s outstretched one. We walked back to the car and Law didn’t let go of my hand the entire way back to the airport. A warm fog settled and neither of us spoke; I think we both didn’t want to risk ruining what had just happened.
When we sat down in the first class lounge, Law dozed off, our hands still bound. I never thought I’d be happy to go back to Utah, but sitting in the airport, I couldn’t wait to board the plane. Boston had been cold and unfamiliar. Better the devil you know, I suppose. I watched people walk around the airport, wondering what they were returning to…or running from. A man with a Patriots shirt walked by and a thought popped into my head.
“But you don’t have a Boston accent,” I said, turning to Law.
He gazed at me sleepily. “You think we all talk like we’re wicked smaht?”
“Holy shit!” I gasped. “What was that?”
“My accent.” Law smiled crookedly. “I trained to eradicate it. An accent is one of the easiest ways to blow your cover. Doesn’t mean I can’t pull it out as a pahty trick.”
“My stepdad is from Boston,” I mused. I turned back to people-watch but the man in the Patriots shirt was gone. Tony loved the Patriots. He had everything from a blanket to pajamas to cups. I didn’t like sports, much less love a team enough to deck myself out in their gear, but I loved that he loved them. “He has a thick accent. We used to make fun of him for it.”
“Used to?” Law asked.
I didn’t really feel like digging up the graves of my parents in the busy Boston airport, so I changed the subject. “Did you pick all those dandelions?”
Law sat up and turned to me. “Yes.”
“How? Where?” I paused, stewing over his answer, before asking again, “How?”
“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” Law replied, a wicked half-smile on his lips. When he smiled like that he reminded me of the gods I’d studied briefly in college, the ones lauded for such extreme beauty that mortals couldn’t comprehend it. Just like the gods, he was consistently tricky, never giving without expecting some kind of sacrifice in return. I folded my arms, preparing my lamb.
“I no longer make fun of him because my mom is dead so the tradition kind of died with her.”
Instead of giving me the usual spiel of condolence, Law asked, “Why can’t you?” It took me by surprise. I was used to having to fend off half-sincere sorries and hugs. Law had asked a question I genuinely wasn’t ready for.
“I already answered your stupid question,” I huffed. “Answer mine.”
Law shrugged back into the seat. “I drove to a few known dandelion fields.”
“How many is a few?” Leaning forward so that I was practically in his seat, I pressed my question.
“I answered your stupid question, you answer mine.” Law grinned at me as he repeated my insolent statement.
“Fine,” I huffed, sitting back into my own seat. “I can’t go to Tony because I’m afraid of what will happen. I’m afraid the paparazzi will hound him…” I trailed off, staring at a man with a Patriot’s hat. “I’m afraid he won’t want to talk to me any more.” So many “friends” had dropped me like dead weight during the scandal. I’d already lost two parents. I couldn’t bear losing Tony as well.
Minutes passed where neither of us said a word. Law slipped farther into his seat, head relaxed on his arm. I watched his eyes close and his jaw relax. It felt like watching a bear sleep. All that raw, condensed power slumbering felt unnatural. With my hand still entwined in his, I wondered if that meant a part of me was sleeping with the animal.
Law affected the deep rumblings of sleep, his chest rising and falling like the tide. I turned my attention to the windows so I could watch the airplanes land and liftoff. As I watched another plane leave, its lights disappearing in the dark sky, Law spoke, his voice startling me from my quiet vigil.
“I went to about a hundred different fields.”
“Will you tell me more about your sister?” I whispered.
I wasn’t sure if Law had gone to sleep. It was impossible to tell with him. His head rested on his hand and his eyes were closed, but with Law that didn’t mean shit. He could easily be awake and listening. It had taken a lot of courage to ask the question and I wasn’t sure if I could ask it again. I almost wished he was asleep.
As minutes passed with no response, I concluded that Law was indeed asleep. It had been twenty minutes since Law had dropped the dandelion bomb on me and still we had about twenty minutes before boarding. He’d dozed off, or at least it looked like he had, and I’d been left stupefied.
Over a hundred different fields? That was…unbelievable. Then again, Law was unbelievable. In the twenty minutes since he’d dropped the bomb, I’d stewed. I’d realized I knew so very little about Law. I felt like I knew him; on a carnal level, on a visceral level, on the kind of level where atoms existed, I knew Law. Yet, on the level where sisters disappeared, I didn’t know him at all.
“Her name was Jane—Janey.” I snapped my attention to Law. His eyes were still closed and his head still rested on his arm, but he had responded to me. I watched him, waiting for him to say more. Maybe all he would tell me was that she was “Janey”.
“She didn’t look much like me, actually we were very different.” Law sat up, slowly straightening his back and opening his eyes. “Janey had light skin and freckles. Her hair was red I think…” Law trailed off and I looked over to see what had stopped him. His gaze was pinned to the wall, but his mind was far off.
I thought about what he’d said. His profile was all hard edges and lines, but his skin was smooth without any imperfections; not even a mole marred the olive tone. Law was tan, his skin intense like desert sand. He had light brown hair that I loved to mess up with my hands. I still wasn’t sure what his heritage was, but that seemed like such a small secret in comparison to the others I’d unearthed.
“I wish I remembered more about her,” Law continued. “After the search parties stopped and the police closed her case, my parents threw away all her pictures. They gave away all of her clothes and furniture—anything that might remind them of her.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to continue.”
“No,” Law said. “No, it’s good. I haven’t talked about her in years. I’ve thought about her. Almost every day I’ve thought about her. Throwing away her stuff and burning her pictures didn’t dissolve her presence; if anything, it amplified it. We could never talk about her. We never mourned her. We never gave her a funeral. We simultaneously forgot about her and waited for her to return.”
Emotion clogged my throat. Not sure what to do to ease his pain, I wrapped myself around him. I squeezed tight, wishing I could suffocate all the bad that had been done to him. Law tensed up at first but then relaxed. He started stroking my hair.
“I haven’t talked to my parents since the day I left home. For them, when Janey died, the world stopped turning. I’m sorry I can’t offer you a big, warm family. All I have are pieces of one.”
I lifted off him and crossed my legs. “Both my parents are dead, my dog was murdered, and I stalk my stepdad because I’m too afraid of what he thinks of me. One piece of your life is worth more than my entire being. I’d be happy to have a piece of yours.”
Law reached out and stroked my cheek. “The biggest tragedy in your life isn’t your parents’ death. It isn’t Morris. It isn’t Raskol. It’s that you continually devalue yourself. The biggest tragedy of your life will be you not realizing how amazing you truly are.”
Tears brimmed the surface of my lids. I hadn’t cried for Morris. I’d kept my tears inside when he’d ruined my reputation. I hadn’t cried for Effie. When she’d left me alone, it had hurt worse than a punch to the gut, but I hadn’t cried. Despite my desolation, I hadn’t cried for Raskolnikov eit
her. Yet there, in the freaking Boston airport, I was about to cry.
Law didn’t say another word. He opened his arm for me and I gladly took the comfort. I nestled myself against his chest and let his scent sooth me. Tears fell silently but his shirt soaked them up. It wasn’t tears of sadness that fell, but tears of undoing. The thing I’d feared for months had finally happened: I’d come undone. It hadn’t happened in a blaze of glory, with Morris in pieces at my feet and Salt Lake City in rubble, though. It had happened pressed against Law, a man who promised to do me back up.
Law gave me the window seat again. When we lifted off, the city below looked like sparkling glitter. I was mesmerized by it. Boston was so beautiful from up in the plane. Twinkling like stardust, you could almost forget all the terrible things that happened there. Up in the sky, a city wasn’t made up of murder per capita, but glimmering lights.
I touched the window, its pane cold against my fingers. It was nighttime now and I couldn’t see anything. The sky was painted black. I turned my attention back to the sleeping cabin. Law had sprung for first class tickets again. Before the trip, I’d never flown first class. We had big chairs the size of twin beds and the attendants brought us anything we wanted. Flying like that, I was almost able to forget the circumstances that had led to it.
Law was asleep, his Grecian profile all the more prominent when illuminated by the soft glow of the overhead plane lights. I reached out to touch him but pulled back just as quickly. Shaking my head, I turned back to the window. Whatever had happened between Law and me in Boston would most likely stay in Boston.
“What are you thinking now, Dandelion?” Law’s words startled me and I turned to see his eyes open and studying me.
Dirty Law Page 18