Текст книги "Defending Pacer"

Автор книги: T. J. Hamilton

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

I watch Pacer’s gorgeous round ass cheeks as he walks up the four stairs to the kitchen level of the house. He’s off to find his phone and have our dinner delivered. Seeing his ankle monitor as he walks reminds me that he has a curfew.

Damn it! Just when we were enjoying each other, his criminal activities get in the way.

“What’s the time? There aren’t any clocks in this house,” I call out.

He reappears. His body is even better without clothes. He has muscles, but they’re not bulging. They’re in proportion with his strong physique. His chest is broad and his shoulders are square. Ink covers one side of his ribs, all of his left arm, and his left pec. The tattoos are a blended mix of pin-up girls, old sailor symbols to religious figures and script quotes about loyalty … or something. They don’t match, but all fit in with one another just fine. I want to study them more, and learn if there is a meaning behind each of them. In fact, I want to study Pacer more. I want to know everything about him.

I grin at how much of a stalker I am with him.

“Yeah, there’s a reason for no clocks,” he says with a smile, as he makes his way back down the stairs. “This is one of the only places I can escape as much of the world as possible. Time means nothing to me out here.”

“As your barrister, I need to remind you that you have a curfew to adhere to … and an ankle monitor that will alert authorities when you’re not home.”

He shrugs and lies on the rug again. “As the guy who wants to fuck you all night long, I need to tell you that I have it sorted and that you don’t need to worry yourself about technicalities like that.”

What is he talking about?

“Unfortunately, this is the one technicality that you should worry about. I can’t have you being locked up now. Not after you gave me multiple orgasms … multiple times.” I bite my lip at the thought of those orgasms.

He laughs and touches my face. I love how tender he is, but then how he unravels me with his dominate hand when it’s needed. I know what atrocities his hands have caused, but somehow they make me feel safe.

“I’m not going anywhere, honeybee.”

I believe him.

“Do I want to know?” I brace myself for his explanation after asking the question. A part of me finds this so exciting, but the other part—the lawyer part—knows how much work this could mean.

“Not unless you want to know the truth.”

Do I? Do I want to know the truth?

“Just make sure you don’t get caught. I’m already under the pump with your case … and it would be devastating if you left me now.”

“I wouldn’t risk it. Trust me.” His smile is devilish.

“I do.” There’s a strange pull in my emotions when I say those two little words.

I push him back into the rug and climb on top of him. Who needs food when you have this?

***

The sun bearing down on my face startles me from my sleep. My eyes spring open, but I can’t move. Pacer’s arms are draped heavily around me, the weight of his embrace constricting yet amazing. I feel at peace. It’s perfect. We’re still in front of the fireplace. I don’t remember falling asleep.

I try to move again, but for a guy who’s not overly muscly, Pacer is really heavy. He grunts and swings his leg around me, now completely enveloping me.

It makes me smile.

Lying my head back against the cushion again, I figure I might as well enjoy the moment. I wish I knew the time. I have an important day ahead. Today’s the day Pacer will be acquitted of all charges, and I no longer have to worry about losing him.

Wriggling around within the confines of Pacer’s arms, I finally roll around to meet his peaceful, sleeping face.

Is he such a heavy sleeper because he doesn’t get to rest like this often? Or has our mammoth fuck-fest exhausted him? Maybe it’s the house? It does feel peaceful and secluded here.

I carefully lean in and kiss his soft lips as he sleeps. His arms flex as he slowly wakes. His lips move and reciprocate the kiss. I feel them stretch into a smile. Opening my eyes, I see Pacer looking at me behind weary, hooded eyelids. I grin back. This is something I can get very used to.

“Mmm … morning,” he grumbles.

Damn, even his sleepy voice is sexy. It’s a vulnerable sound first thing bright and early.

“Good morning. I really need to know the time, so I’m going to find a clock … somewhere.”

“Fuck the time,” he groggily murmurs, and kisses me again. His tongue finds its way into my mouth. It dances around mine, causing my slightly swollen pussy to pulse. I don’t think I could have any more sex, even if I tried. I feel raw down there.

I try to unsuccessfully speak with Pacer’s tongue still in my mouth. “I need to do things today,” I mumble. Pacer’s tongue slips away and his eyes open a little wider. “I have a job, remember? I have to meet with the judge this morning. That means I need to contact him before he’s in session … which begins at nine.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Fine.”

Unwrapping his arms from around me, he stretches and yawns loudly. I know the feeling. I kneel and stretch backwards with my hands at the small of my back. Wow, that amount of sex is a serious workout. My muscles ache and my bones feel old. Pacer rolls over and reaches for his phone on the nearby coffee table. I giggle when I think about how the idea of dinner was quickly ditched last night, along with Pacer’s phone when we considered ordering food. On that thought, my stomach joins in the morning grumbles with it’s own hungry sound.

Pacer’s eyes flick to my stomach. I cover it with my hands, suddenly feeling exposed.

He shakes his head unapprovingly. “It’s only six-twenty in the morning. You’re an early riser, I take it? We have plenty of time, and you’re not going anywhere without me getting something into you for breakfast.”

I chuckle and raise my brow. “Something in me for breakfast? That sounds hot.”

“I would love nothing more than to see you naked all day, but if we don’t get clothes on some time soon, we’re going to end up staying here.” He grins.

If only we could. The thought of us being able to come here and be left alone for days is dreamy. Today’s mission is all the more important when the outcome could result in more of this.

Pacer holds his hand out to pull me up with him as he stands. “Go and find your clothes, honeybee. I’ll get breakfast cooking. Bacon and eggs?”

My wild grin is unavoidable. The thought of him cooking for me is even dreamier than my thoughts of staying here alone with him. In fact, everything about Pacer is dreamy.

I almost skip across the cold concrete floor as I make my way to the path of clothes that has been spread from the front door all the way to the main bedroom. I haven’t needed clothes until this point, so it’s a nice reminder of how this all began around fourteen hours ago.

Holy shit! That means we’ve been having wild sex with each other for at least ten or so hours! Is that even normal? No wonder I’m walking like I’ve been bareback horse riding all day.

The space around me is really cosy for such a stark, minimalist house. The warm carpet in the bedroom is a welcome feeling under my feet. I like that we didn’t just sleep in the bed like normal people do. But Pacer and I are far from normal.

I grab Pacer’s shirt from next to the bed and decide to throw that over me. I laugh as I go to button it up, remembering that they were half ripped of yesterday.

On my way back to the kitchen, smelling something on the stove, I remind myself that this is as far as we can ever really get. Sure, we can have wild weekends together in the seclusion of this house, but that’s all our relationship can ever be. We come from the two families who probably hate each other the most in the city.

But if Romeo and Juliet could make it work … wait … bad example.

I catch a glimpse of Pacer from the hallway. He’s in a white bathrobe and moving around the kitchen like a trained chef. The sight instantaneously breaks me from my reality check. God, he looks good.

Pacer catches my downtrodden look when I enter the kitchen.

“What’s the matter, honeybee? Cute shirt, by the way. It looks good on you.” He flips bacon on the grill and talks at the same time. Impressive.

He must get the kitchen skills from his Uncle? Or is it his Mum … or sister? It reminds me of how much more I want to learn about him. There has to be a way to make this work.

I wrap my arms around him from behind and hold him tight. “Just work stuff on my mind,” I lie … well, not completely. “You look comfortable in the kitchen. I have to admit that I have terrible cooking skills. I think I would probably burn water.”

His strong torso jiggles within my arms as he laughs. “I’m Italian. If I wasn’t able to cook, I think my whole familia would disown me.”

There’s that divide between our lives again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone in my family cook. Maybe Dad grilled on the BBQ once, but that’s a very vague memory.”

Pacer pulls me around to him and holds me with one arm while still tending to the cooking. “I might have to teach you some of the basics one day.” He winks.

“I’d like that.”

My smile hides the doubt that’s crept into my mind again. It’s doubt that’s telling me how our fate is sealed, no matter how much I wish it to be different.

“One thing I can make is coffee.” I smile genuinely this time.

The coffee machine in the wall rivals the one at Dolorous. Coffee might as well be intravenously injected into you when you’re a barrister. You pretty much get an addiction to caffeine the moment your law degree hits your hands. So coffee, I know.

Pacer and I manoeuvre around each other very naturally. It feels as if we’ve been together for years, but there’s still that new spark there that makes it exciting. It’s the type of spark you get when you spend time alone with someone for the first time and imagine what life would be like ten years from now, but you also want time to stand still for as long as possible.

There has to be a way to make this work.

***

“Just how many cars do you have?” I ask, as Pacer opens the door to the garage.

“If you stop to think about those questions before you ask them, you would have the answer for yourself.” He opens the car door of his slick black Porsche. “I’m a guy, I’m Italian, and I can afford these kinds of luxuries. What else am I going to spend my money on?”

His cockiness is so attractive. I bite down on my smile and slide into the leather seat of his sports car. I still don’t really get guys though. I have just as much money to spend on cars, but don’t own a single set of wheels myself. Living in the city helps, I guess. I just walk or catch a taxi. Or is that a girl thing?

Pacer kicks the engine into gear and a song by Nelly, “Ride With Me”, pumps in the speakers. Nelly’s singing that it must be the money. The sound startles me, and I laugh at the song choice. It’s one of those songs that’s classically crass, but was really popular ten years ago. A sideways glance, a shoulder shrug, and Pacer presses the back arrow for the song to start again. The acoustic guitar riff is catchy, and I grin as we launch out of the garage and roar up the hill at a fast speed.

Cars … definitely a guy thing.

***

On the way back, I contact the magistrate’s assistant and convince her that my new information is urgent enough to meet with the magistrate during his recess at eleven.

“This better be good, Chelsea. He will fire me if I’ve wasted his recess break,” Amber says over the phone.

“Amber, I wouldn’t do that to you. Thank you. See you later.”

Ending the call, I glance over at Pacer and sigh. It’s hard to tell how Judge Nolan is going to react to me accusing the council of not only committing perjury in his court, but also that they’ve committed a miscarriage of justice against Pacer. Well, mostly. The fact that he did admittedly murder Collins is significant compared to Jackson Reed getting him behind bars with dirty statements and false witness accounts. But there is more to this. There is more to Jackson and Pacer, and I know it.

Searching through my phone, I find Logan’s number and send her a text.

CHELSEA: Can you grab my leather document holder from my bedroom before you leave Mum and Dad’s? I’ll meet you at my place at eight

LOGAN: See you there, you crazy fuck!

I giggle at the message and Pacer takes his eyes from the road for a moment. Giving me a sexy as hell grin, he turns his attention back to driving. The smile hasn’t faded for a moment. Jesus, he drives me crazy and makes me insatiable for more of him.

My thoughts unintentionally drift back to work. Does Pacer know more about Reed than he’s letting on? I watch him for a moment, wondering whether I should broach the subject with him.

Fuck it! “What do you know about Jackson Reed?” I say without a second’s thought.

Pacer laughs. “Be careful with him, Chelsea. The guy is dangerous. He’s got a lot of power behind him.”

“This is what I’m beginning to understand, the deeper I dig.” I sigh.

“Don’t dig any deeper. If he finds out that you know things about him, there’s no telling what he might try to do.” Pacer’s dark eyes are wide.

Should I be worried? What would he do to me? “What do you mean? What’s he doing, Pacer? I can help you. I can get Jackson put behind bars.”

Pacer shoots a look at me. “Don’t Chelsea! I mean it. Just drop it. The guy is bad.”

“What about my meeting with Judge Nolan today? I was going to show him the holes in your case. Holes that I think Jackson is a part of, for some reason.”

“Just be careful. I don’t know exactly who is working with Jackson. But you can’t trust anyone. Just don’t get Jackson backed into a corner. Show the judge what you need to show him without Jackson being held accountable for it all. Can you do that?” Pacer’s stony face looks worrisome.

“If I can do it with my Dad, I’m sure I can manage to persuade Nolan.”

What does Pacer know about Jackson?

I nod in reply, but I’m not slowing down. Not now. Jackson Reed needs to be stopped.

 

***

 

Pacer and I haven’t said much to each other after our discussion about Jackson. The mention of his name brought the mood to a serious low, the feeling amplified by the amazing night just spent together. My mind continues to tick over the little things Jackson has said and done. They all make more sense now. His spike in asshole comments increased when I was given Pacer’s case. Their hate for each other is something more than just Jackson wanting Pacer behind bars, for obvious reasons—Pacer being a murderer and all.

We pull into my street and Pacer pulls into the parking space four cars away from my front door.

“Call me as soon as you’ve finished the meeting?” His question definitely sounds rhetorical.

I lean across and kiss him on the lips. “Of course. Make sure you report to the police station before eleven.”

He rolls his eyes. What does he expect? I have to do my job. I won’t ever switch off from that.

As I get out of the car, Pacer catches my elbow. “Hey.” It forces me to turn back to him. “Promise me you’ll drop the Jackson Reed stuff, okay?”

I stare at him for a moment. I don’t want to lie to him, but I can’t stop now. “Okay.” It’s an abbreviated version of what he wants to hear … I can’t promise anything though.

He lets go of me, and I leave the car without looking back. I don’t want him seeing the truth in my lying eyes. I’m sure he knows as well as I do that I have no intention of stopping until I’ve uncovered all of Jackson’s dirty deeds. It’s in my blood, after all.

Briskly walking to my door, I check the time on my phone. It’s almost nine o’clock, and I’m late to meet with Larry, Don and Mick for their bacon and egg rolls. As I unlock my front door, I Google Lou’s café number and call it. Logan has slipped my document folder under the door with a note

He had better be one amazing fuck or else I think you’ve lost your mind.

After three rings, I instantly recognise Lou’s voice. “Lou’s …”

“Hi, Lou. It’s Chelsea. Can you make the bacon and egg rolls for the boys, please? I’m running late this morning so I’m going to have to miss my morning coffee. I’ll fix you up after work; is that okay?”

“Have you been a bit busy, love?”

From the tone of his voice, I’m sure he’s talking about the front page of last week’s newspaper.

“Yeah, big case.” I don’t want to engage in any more of this small talk. I have so much to do, so I end the call as quickly as I can. “Better go. I’ll see you this afternoon.”

“Righto.” I end the call and race up the stairs of my terrace, pulling my jeans and blouse off before reaching the bedroom

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

 

My meeting with Justice Nolan lasts all of ten minutes. I presented my case … and he had very little emotional response to it, as per usual.

He adjourned the matter for six months to review the evidence, and ordered Pacer’s ankle monitor to be removed, effective immediately. It’s not exactly what I wanted, but Pacer is still out of prison and his restrictions are being lifted again. It’s a good start, and it will give me the time I need to get the real war between Jackson and Pacer uncovered.

Nolan was surprised by the key pieces of evidence that were left out of the investigation. Just how deep is Jackson Reed? And what does Pacer know about it all? The heated warning he gave me has done nothing but rouse my intrigue into the situation. It’s like trying to stem a nosebleed in summer; once it starts, it’s hard to block again. I need to find out what is really behind Pacer’s warning.

Do I tell Dad about my theories on Jackson Reed? I can’t. He’ll just want to handle this the honest way. But from what I’ve learnt during the past couple of weeks, these types of things can only be dealt with a certain way—Pacer’s way.

It’s interesting—after all these years of fighting for the bad guys, they’re the ones who really do need the protection after all. If the city’s controlled by crooks like Jackson Reed, then what hope is there for truth and justice?

Walking through the frosted glass doors of my firm’s entrance, I feel as if there are eyes on me everywhere. I try to take as little notice as possible, and pull off my best attempt at acting normal.

The moment I get to Sienna, sitting at her desk, she dives out from her chair, grabs my arm and pulls me quickly into my office behind her desk.

“What’s going on, Chelsea? It’s all over every newspaper.” She points to the city’s entire catalogue of news publications, spread out across my desk.

I instantly recognise my outfit from yesterday and the seaplane I got into with Pacer. My heart feels as if it’s dropped into my stomach, and the blood has drained from my head.

My instant thought is what my Mum and Dad are going to say about it?

Slapping my hand to my mouth, I sink into my chair. Sienna, as quick-thinking as ever, flicks the blinds shut on my window to the office corridor.

One photograph shows Pacer’s hand on my ass as I get into the seaplane, and the smaller insert is of us laughing in the back of the plane’s cabin—headphones on and looking adoringly at one another.

“Fuck!” I whisper loudly.

“Yeah, fuck alright. How was your meeting with Nolan? Do you think he saw this?” Sienna’s wide stare is a mix of interest and concern.

I shake my head. “No. Pacer’s case is adjourned until the end of the year. Plus, I know Nolan never reads the papers.”

I stop myself from telling Sienna how I know this about Justice Nolan. He’s played golf with my Dad for about fifteen years. Dad’s always told me what his assessment on people is, especially his old colleagues. He profiles all of them, and spends the rest of his friendship analysing every little thing about their personality, no matter who they are. I don’t think he’d ever breathe a word to another soul, including Mum, about this, but our conversations with one another are different. We’ve always been each other’s soundboard, for as long as I can remember. Mum told me he used to lean over my bassinette when I was a baby, telling me all about his day and his thoughts. I wish I could trust Dad with this, and it’s the first time in my life I haven’t been honest with him. But this time it’s different. Pacer is the game-changer.

Knowing how much Dad studies people, I have to work fast on Jackson Reed. If my Dad starts to dig, I’m out of the race. Dad knows people better than I do. It’s how he became the best judge in the country.

I may have fooled him before, but he will see through anything I say about my relationship with Pacer after these photos.

“What ever you do, do not allow my father to come in here.” I pause. How much do I tell her about Jackson? “You have to do me a really big favour. The biggest thing I’ve ever asked of you.” She nods for me to continue talking. I’m sure she trusts me. But do you ever really know? “You have to keep Jackson Reed well away from me, but be tactful. He can’t know that I’m avoiding him. There are things I’m going to ask you to do for me, which won’t make much sense. But you have to trust me. And I promise I’ll tell you everything as soon as it’s all over.”

Her eyes grow wider. This time they’re filled with fear. “Are you in trouble with this Pacer guy?” She puts her hand over mine on the desk.

I shake my head. “No. Total opposite. He’s in trouble, and I really need to help him. Please keep your eye on everything … and trust no one.”

“Is everything okay, Chelsea? None of this sounds good.”

“It’s not. But the less you know, the less you’ll be in danger.”

“Danger?”

Shit! I don’t want her panicking.

“Danger was a poor choice of phrase. It’s just going to make things easier for you if you don’t know anything.”

She nods again. I really need to call Pacer, so I send Sienna out to her desk to be my buffer from the shit storm that’s about to hit.

Pressing Pacer’s name on my mobile, I pace along the edge of the floor-to-ceiling window as the tone rings. Almost six rings in, his phone finally picks up.

“How did it all go?” He sounds emotionless over the phone, but I figure that’s because he’s cautious about who might be listening.

“Your trial is adjourned until December. Judge Nolan has ordered a review of all the evidence. Your ankle monitor can come off too. Go and see Inspector Lawson again. She will have your orders through for it to be removed.”

“You’re not coming with me this time?”

“I have a lot to do. Plus, all those photos on the front pages of the papers is only going to stir up everyone if we’re together.”

I hear him breathe heavy into the phone. “Yeah, my cousin showed me. But that’s just more reason to go on as normal.”

“Having a ring of cameras flashing around us isn’t my idea of normal.”

“Fine. I’ll deal with that myself then.” His voice is curt.

He’s right. I really shouldn’t be letting him deal with that on his own. I am his barrister, first. Fuck buddy, second.

“Okay. Meet here, in my office and we’ll walk over together to have your ankle monitor removed. Look sharp and keep your cool. The paps will want a reaction out of you.”

My heart speeds up at the thought of seeing Pacer again. It’s been three hours, after all.

“I’ll be there within the hour.” His voice isn’t gentle, like it was this morning.

“Bye.”

Where do I start with my private investigation into Jackson Reed? I know … Travis Jamerson. He was a good cop until he was investigated for selling information to crooks. I was his lawyer. His case was dismissed because none of it was actually true, but the police force weren’t satisfied, and his full operational duties have never been reappointed. He’s now the supervisor of archives in the city, which sucks for him, but works for me. His shunning by the police when he was innocent has only pushed him to do the wrong thing afterwards.

I search through my phone for his number.

He quickly answers. “Hi, Chelsea. It’s been a while. How are you? Or is that a bad question at the moment?”

Is there anyone in this city who isn’t going to have a stab at me?

“Yeah it’s easier to answer how I’m not feeling on a day like today. So I was just wondering if you could pull out some old case files for me? I know I’m meant to be going through the Freedom of Information Act, but I need to get some details quick. Then I’ll go through the correct avenues once I know it’s worth perusing.”

“When do you need them? Is this for that Fratelli guy your representing?”

“Yeah. There’s something not right with the investigations.” I know I can trust him with this information.

“Why am I not surprised?” He huffs. “I’ll be here until about eight tonight. They’ve just delivered a truck-load of boxes from an old station out west that’s amalgamated, so we get all their archives … and I bet you’re really interested in hearing all of this, too … Anyway, if you get here after six but before eight, no one else will be here, so I’ll point you in the direction you need to find what you’re after.”

“Thanks, Travis. I’ll bring coffee.”

“See ya, Chels.”

Hanging up the phone, I wish there was more I could do for someone like Travis. How can he go from being a hands-on cop to shuffling boxes and files? Surely there’s more to life? There are many injustices in the world, but I can’t solve all of them.

If I can get into the old investigations for Pacer’s previous crimes, I’m hoping I’ll find someone, anyone, who might be working with Jackson to see if they’re involved together. There will be a link. I know it’s going to be there, I just need to find it.

The phone on my desk bleeps with the intercom sound from Sienna. “Hey, Chelsea. Your Dad is persistent. He wants to know when you’ll be out of your meetings. He wants you to call him immediately. That’s call three for the morning.”

I sigh and press the speaker button on the phone. “Thanks, Sienna. I’ll call him later. Just tell him I’ve left if he calls again.”

“Your Mum has called too. She said she’s been calling your mobile phone but it has been off all morning. She wants you to call her before speaking to your father.”

I press the button again. “Thanks, Sienna. Pacer will be coming in shortly. Let me know when the front desk informs you of his arrival. I’ll go out and get him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sienna. Less questions.” I have to be blunt. I can’t waste my time explaining everything to her.

‘Okay’ is her final response.

There are twelve voice messages waiting for me. I’ve forwarded all my voice calls so that I still receive the messages and can make calls.

I sit down and listen to all of them. The first few are just as I imagined.

“Chelsea Elizabeth Blythe Tanner. I will not have you ruin the family name with this charade. There better be a decent explanation behind these reports.” Dad’s voice is the first cab off the rank.

“Chelsea, your Dad is furious. We were told you were with friends yesterday, but we didn’t expect this! Please tell me they’ve got it all wrong again.” Mum’s voice is less angry than Dad’s.

“Hi, Chelsea. This is Delicia Parry from the Daily Telegr…”

Delete.

“Chelsea, please call me. Your father is on his way to your place. Did you get those locks changed? If that boy’s there, you had better tell him to leave. Immediately.” Mum’s message actually makes me laugh, but then the reality of my Dad trying to get into my house is kind of disturbing.

Luckily, I had all the locks changed and new deadbolts added at the back garage a couple of years ago. I didn’t take down that board of Pacer. I didn’t have time. But if Dad manages to find his way inside, I can at least explain that it’s all for the case. Dad is really taking this hard. It’s not like I’ve lost my mind or anything? It’s far from lost … I’ve lost my heart may be, but not my head. My head is firmly prepared to expose Jackson for what he is.

I don’t bother listening to the rest of the messages just yet; I know what I need to do. Mum’s number is in the recent call list. I press her name. I’m pretty sure she was just watching her phone, the way she answered it before it even rang.

“Chelsea.” Mum’s voice sounds stressed. “Have you spoken with your father?”

“Hi, Mum. No, I rang you straight away.” I don’t give her a chance to speak. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking, but there is more to this. Please get Dad off my back while I sort it all out. Can you please just do that for me?”

“So there’s nothing between you and this boy, then?”

I chuckle. “He’s not a boy, Mum. He’s a man, just like I’m a woman. I know what I’m doing. He’s not who they say he is. I’ll prove everything soon enough. You’ve just got to get Dad to back off.”

“Well, I am really surprised they were even game enough to run the story. I’ve spoken with the chief editors of all the publications, but there’s something not right about it all. Someone is paying really good money for these stories to get out. They spun me some tale about it being for the information of the public to know what’s happening, but it’s just not how we do things.”

I bet Jackson has something to do with this.

“Mum, I think I know what’s going on. This is all to do with one person. It’s for the same reason that Pacer is in the position he’s in.” Well, it’s not all a lie. Pacer is more righteous in his crimes than Jackson. “There are some bad things going on in the city at the moment. Dad needs to stay out of it. It’s not like it used to be when he was a judge.”

“Oh, Chelsea! You’re scaring me. Why can’t you just let this go? If you’re worried about your own father’s involvement, then how am I meant to feel about you being part of all this?” Mum’s voice is shaky.

“Mum, I was put here to do something like this in my life. I am the product of you and Dad. It’s safe to say I’ll be alright.” I don’t want my Mum to worry. “Please trust me.”

There’s a pause. The silence lasts longer than it’s welcome.

“Well, I hope he’s worth it.”

She makes me smile.

“Wasn’t Dad worth it? I love you. I’ll be out there this weekend.”

I end the call and think about my words. At this point, Pacer is worth more than I care to admit.