Dirty

by Ella Miles

  I date the perfect guys. They are all impeccable gentlemen, taking me on fancy dates and treating me like a queen in the bedroom.

  And most importantly, I have the perfect job.

  "Will the defendant rise for sentencing?” the judge asks, staring at the accused and his lawyers.

  I look over at Ivan, the suspect and soon to be prisoner, with a smirk on my face. I toss my hair back and hold my head high as the monster stands before the court for judgment. He's a terrifying man. The kind of man who can just glance at you and strike fear into the deepest confines of your soul. His entire body exudes evil and dark. Even the suit his lawyers bought for him doesn't hide his cruelty.

  They could have put him in a bunny costume, and it wouldn’t have hidden the monster inside him. The dark suit he’s wearing reflects the darkness of his soul. His hair is shaved short, revealing the tattoos inked into his scalp. The long jacket sleeves can’t contain the tattoos, nor the scars, that blanket his arms and hands. But it's not only his general appearance that makes him menacing. It’s the glare in his eyes, the arrogance in his strut, and the vulgar venom in his speech. Everything about him makes it clear he doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. He’ll hurt anyone who dares to cross him.

  Right now, he’s terrified. He no longer stands proud and strong, like no one can touch him. His body trembles a little as he stands and his bottom lip quivers. He tries to hold back the tears staining his bulging eyes. He knows he's lost. He knows he's going to prison for the rest of his life at the very least, or he's going to die on death row.

  This is my favorite part. The part where the bad guys realize they're not untouchable. They are weak. And by locking them away, I’m saving countless other souls from these evil savages.

  “Ivan Shaw, on the count of murder in the first degree, this court has found you guilty."

  I cock my head to the side as I stare at Ivan. Gazing at him as the single tear rolls down his cheek. I watch as the handcuffs go around his wrists and he is lead out of the courtroom. Before he’s pulled out of the courtroom entirely, he turns his head and gives me one last dirty, sullen stare, his face shining red and jaw clenching. But it does nothing to intimidate me. In fact, it warms my insides to see him dragged away, never to see freedom again.

  "You’re fucking amazing," Jules, my assistant, says next to me as she begins gathering up the files of papers we had laid out across the courtroom table.

  I put a couple of the files into my briefcase and snap the leather case shut. "I'm not that incredible. My work is important, so I have to get it right. If not, a man like Ivan could go back out on the streets and kill dozens of other innocent people. I’m the last line of defense to ensure he doesn’t hurt another person."

  Jules smiles and shrugs. "You're still freaking awesome. Ivan left no evidence. His men were utterly loyal to him. The fact that you got one of his men to flip and give you the gun used to commit the murder, with Ivan’s fingerprints all over it, is astonishing. No other lawyer would have gotten anyone loyal to him to say so much as a single syllable against him. Any other lawyer would have lost the case."

  Exhaling, I turn and walk out of the courtroom with Jules on my heels. She's young and inexperienced, but she's well on her way to becoming my mini-me. I hope to train as many people as I can to do my job, so we can apprehend more evil creatures and protect this city.

  "How do I look?" I ask before exiting the courtroom, preparing myself to face the reporters outside.

  Jules scrutinizes me up and down, peering down my dark red skirt and jacket, up to my pin straight black hair, and across my face to examine my makeup. "You’re flawless and perfect as usual. Not a lipstick smudge or glisten of sweat visible.”

  I nod. "Good."

  Plastering a smug expression on my face, a warning to all other convicts out there that I'm coming for you and I'm going to win, I step out into the lobby of the courtroom. The flashes should blind me, but I'm used to it by now. Bristles from the microphone booms brush against my cheek. The attention should make me uneasy, but instead, I find it as easy as talking to a close friend.

  "How were you able to lock away one of LA's worst criminals, abating the police and court system for decades?” one of the reporters asks.

  I stare directly at the camera that is pointed at me. "I surround myself with the best team, and I have dedicated my life to making our world a little safer. I'll do whatever it takes to ensure the bad guy goes to jail every single time. Ivan Shaw was a villain. It may take some time, but in the end, good always conquers evil."

  “This case seemed impossible. How were you able to convince the key witness, in this case, to cooperate with you?"

  I turn my head towards the next camera. "Because impossible doesn't exist. Not really. Every one of these people are human. They all have wants and desires of their own. No one wants to go to prison for the rest of their lives. No one wants to be responsible for the criminal going free. So it's a matter of having a heart-to-heart conversation with someone, human to human. After that, the witness was more than willing to talk.”

  I glance around all the reporters. "I'll take one more question."

  "What's next? You prosecute more cases than anyone in the state. Are you going to take a much-needed vacation?"

  I laugh. "I'll take a vacation when all the bad guys are locked up, and there are none left to terrorize this city.“

  I start walking again, and the reporters reluctantly part for me, still firing off questions despite me saying I was only taking one more question. I walk fast in my stiletto heels, keeping ahead of the reporters and Jules who are trailing behind me.

  I don't like admitting it, but I like the attention winning a case brings. I like the afterglow and the feeling that I did something helpful for the world. I feel like a rock star, and hopeful that maybe, this was the time I locked away the last criminal. Tomorrow I’ll wake up and sleep in, instead of getting a call about yet another murder that happened while I slept. This will be the time I never get that call. All of the horrible people will have somehow been eradicated from the world, or at least my small part of it.

  But I know it’s just a dream, a fantasy. Tomorrow I’ll wake up to a phone call asking if I want to take another case on. I know I will accept the new case because this is my life, and despite how hard it can be, it's also precisely what I want for my life. I have a perfect record when it comes to defeating wicked, cruel beasts, and I don't plan on giving up the reins anytime soon.

  I walk out of the courtroom and over to my red Ferrari. I climb in and roll down the window to talk to Jules one last time before I head home.

  "Do you want to get a drink or something tonight to celebrate?" Jules asks.

  “Sorry, but I have —”

  Jules rolls her eyes as she crosses her arms and leans against my car. "You have a date with one of your Mr. Perfect’s, don't you?"

  I grimace. "Am I that predictable?"

  "Yes,” she huffs. She glances over at the reporters who are now busy interviewing the families. I look away, unable to watch the families. I don't feel sorry for the criminal’s family. As for the victim’s family, I can never do enough to get the haunting, sickening feeling to leave my stomach.

  “You should take some time off Jules.”

  She smirks. "I will if you will."

  "It doesn't work that way. I'm telling you as your boss to take next week off."

  “And what happens tomorrow if you accept a case for the second most evil person in the world, after that bastard, and I’m sitting on the beach somewhere?”

  "Then I guess I'll have to do the initial groundwork without you. Now go. Have fun tonight, and go spend some time relaxing on the beach this week. Turn off your phone and the world, and enjoy life away from all this." I wave my hands out motioning to the courthouse and the chaos surrounding it.

  She nods slowly, pulling out her phone. "I'll turn my phone off as soon as I hear about how your date with Mr. Incredible goes tonight
. You know I love hearing all the juicy details."

  I laugh. "No, you can hear about them when you come back."

  She pouts.

  I laugh again, and snatch her phone from her hand as she squeals. I turn it off before handing it back to her.

  "I mean it. Keep this thing off so no one at work will bother you for a week."

  "Fine."

  She will probably turn it back on as soon as she is out of eyesight of me, but I can hope at least one person in my office is going to get a much-needed break from this life.

  I can't take a break. I couldn't live with myself if I took a break and someone went free because I wasn’t here leading the charge to lock the criminal up. Jules is still young and doesn't have the responsibility of the world on her shoulders. She should enjoy herself.

  She walks back to her car a few aisles over as I start my own car and drive off. Blasting the radio as I drive home, I try to drown out my thoughts and forget about work so I can enjoy my hot blind date tonight.

  I was set up by Jack, a guy I work with. My blind date’s name is Saul. He's a businessman, doing something with real estate, hotels, and condos. From what I'm told, he's smart, a gentleman, and a hottie. Exactly what I’m looking for tonight. He's taking me to one of the newest and hottest restaurants in LA. It will be nice to sit back with a cocktail, delicious food, and hopefully interesting conversation with a sexy man to ogle.

  My mind wanders to my usual thoughts whenever I’m not focusing on work: Nina.

  I haven't heard from her in weeks. She usually checks in at least once a month and lets me know that she’s safe and Arlo is still treating her well. Because if he's not, he knows I'll come for him and lock him up like I do all the other criminals.

  But every time Nina calls, she seems happy, no, better than happy. She acts like herself, like this is where her life was leading her all this time. So as much as I want to go to Arlo and knock his balls clean off his body for what he did to Nina, and for now making her live a life on the run, away from her friends and normal life, I won't. Because I love her and she loves Arlo. Despite all his faults, I do believe now he will do anything and everything he can to love and protect Nina.

  A few minutes later, I park the car and get out, say hello to my doorman, Larry, and grab the mail before I head up to my sprawling condo on the fifth floor.

  I throw the door open to my expansive home, walk over to my sound system and turn it on. Blaring music makes me feel less alone. I don't have any pets or roommates, no one to keep me company. I prefer it this way. I like having my own space and the freedom to spend my evenings how want.

  It's also one of the reasons why I stick to dates. I like being alone. I don't care about settling down anytime soon. I don't want a live-in boyfriend or a husband. Work keeps me plenty busy. I date one night a week.

  My date gets one shot with me, and no matter how much we connect or how good the sex is, that's all I’ll ever give him. I don't want to get attached. I don't him to develop feelings for me either, so I follow my simple rules. One man, one date, once a week.

  I stretch, wishing I had time for a quick yoga session before my date but I don't. I pour myself a glass of red wine and then head to my bedroom to find a suitable dress for tonight. I strip down to my black lace bra and underwear. I always wear sexy underwear, even when I'm the only one who is going to see it, especially on days I’m in court. Racy lingerie makes me feel strong and confident, which I need in the courtroom.

  I dig through my closet and find a simple black dress with plenty of sex appeal between its short length and low-cut front, giving off the vibe that I expect sex tonight and lots of it. I get dressed and touch up my hair and makeup in the mirror. I consider curling my hair but think better of it. I don't want him to think I'm trying too hard. That's not what tonight is about. If he thinks I'm trying hard, then he'll think I want to go on a second date. I don't.

  I apply another coat of red lipstick as I hear a knock on the door, faintly from behind my blaring music. I glance at the clock on my phone; he's early. One positive strike for him already. Carrying my wine and phone with me, I head to the living room and turn off the music on my way to the door. We have plenty of time to have a drink together first before heading to dinner.

  I open the door with an intriguing smile. My skin flushes, my lips part, and my knees grow so weak I have to grasp the doorframe to remain standing when I see how ruggedly handsome my date is. He has shoulder-length dark hair, a scar across his cheek that makes him look a little dangerous, but nothing compared to the men I prosecute. His body looks strong and fit beneath his simple black T-shirt and jeans. He appears to be way underdressed for the restaurant he told me he was taking me to tonight, but maybe I'm the one who’s overdressed. There is also something familiar about him that I can’t place.

  "Would you like to come in and have a drink before our date tonight?" I ask Saul. I rake my teeth over my bottom lip letting him know how much I appreciate his body and charming appearance. Jack did an excellent job setting us up.

  "I'd love to come in.”

  He steps inside, taking up space like he owns the place as he walks. I shut the door behind us and rush forward, leading him into my kitchen.

  "Is red wine okay or would you like something else?" I ask, my voice raspy as I speak. I swallow hard, trying to remedy my voice.

  He scours the room, but I have no idea what he’s looking for. "Red wine is fine.”

  I suddenly feel nervous, my hands clammy, as I begin pouring him a glass of wine. I'm used to dating powerful, strong men, but this man is different. He walks around commanding attention, demanding my eyes to stay on him and he's barely said anything or hardly even looked at me. I'm used to sharp dressed men that give me flowers and complements, place their hand on the small my back, or link our fingers together.

  He does none of these things. But yet he requires everything of me.

  He walks over to the colossal windows spanning the entire length of the wall, looking out over the ocean. I walk over to him and hold out his glass of wine to him, my hand shaking slightly. "Here you go.”

  He takes the glass from me, lifts it to his mouth, and takes a sip before spitting it out.

  He eyes the glass suspiciously. "You call this wine? It's disgusting."

  I snort and raise an eyebrow as I take the wine glass back from him. "Sorry, I don't have much experience with wine, so I usually buy whatever cheap wine is on sale. I think I have some whiskey if you prefer?”

  He shakes his head. “I don't think I trust your taste in whiskey either."

  “I guess you'll be the one picking out the wine at dinner tonight."

  He reaches out and tugs gently on one of my strands of hair. “Do you always straighten your hair like this?"

  I nod. “Why? You don't like it?" I open my eyes wide and give him an ‘I dare you to say you hate it’ stare.

  “No reason. I used to know someone who wore her hair very much like yours. It suits you well."

  “Thank you. Although, straight is a trendy hairstyle. I do have a close friend who wears her hair very similar to mine. People would call us twins, or at the very least, sisters because we were so much alike."

  “And what is your friend's name?"

  “Nina."

  “Would Nina like to go on a double date with us to dinner this evening?”

  I shake my head. “No, she doesn't live here.”

  I swear he frowns at the news, but then again, he seems always to be frowning or grimacing or glaring. He doesn't seem like a happy, relaxed person. He seems stiff and far too serious.

  I’m one to talk. I spend my whole day being serious. Maybe his work is similar to mine, and he has to take it seriously. I can understand why it would be hard for him to relax, even on a date.

  “Shall we head to dinner?”

  “Sure, that way we can get you a proper drink," I say smiling at him, hoping he will smile back.

  He doesn’t; he continues to stare at m
e like he has seen a ghost or something.

  A knock at the door startles me, and I turn.

  “Maybe it's the doorman delivering a package or something?” I say, walking toward the door after setting my wine glass down on the kitchen counter.

  I open the door and see a charming man standing in my doorway in a suit, holding a modest bouquet of daisies. He grins at me as he approvingly checks out my tanned legs and cleavage.

  I wince, holding the door open. “I’m sorry I think you have the wrong condo.”

  “You’re Eden Collins, right?"

  I nod. “And you are?"

  “I’m Saul Lewis. Jack set us up on a blind date tonight or did I get the wrong day?” He glances behind me to the man standing in my living room.

  “Wait, you’re Saul?”

  He nods.

  “Can you show me your ID?”

  He raises an eyebrow, reaching into his back pocket for his ID and handing it to me. I read his name across the top of his driver's license. Saul Lewis.

  I storm back to the living room, leaving Saul standing in my doorway.

  “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my home?”

  I cross my arms over my chest and give him a glare I only reserve for the worst of the criminals I prosecute.

  He chuckles. “I’m surprised you don't recognize me, sweetheart."

  I stare at him a second longer, and then I do. “No…"

  He cocks his head to the side flashing me a grin I immediately hate. “So you do remember me. That's good; it means you'll help me."

  “No, get out of my condo Matteo. Now."

  He takes a sprawling seat on my leather couch instead, a couch that seems small with his muscular body dwarfing it.

  My eyes fly open at the audacity of him to come here, let alone sit down on my couch, after what he did to my friend. Nina may have forgiven him, but I don't. I’ve barely absolved Arlo, and that's only because she loves him. I can't forgive Matteo. Besides, now he is in charge of the Carini company, so I’m sure he's done far worse things than any of the men I lock up on a daily basis.

  “Should I come in or what?" Saul asks from the doorway.