A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)

“Carter, sir.”

 

Ward’s eyes narrowed and his mouth snapped into a sharp line. When the door slammed shut behind him and the guard, Kat looked around the room.

 

“Carter?” she asked.

 

Riley laughed loudly, immediately clearing the tension Ward forever left in his wake. “Carter. Dammit. That boy never fuckin’ changes.”

 

 

 

 

 

3

 

 

“You’re not sleeping well, are you?” Ben, one of Kat’s closest yet most irritatingly observant friends smiled sadly as a waiter placed a triple espresso in front of her.

 

Even without the numerous yawns she’d been stifling all through dinner, Kat knew she looked like crap. Even Estée Lauder couldn’t hide the weariness around her eyes. Besides, he’d known her for six years and nothing got past him. “I tried,” she replied, shaking a packet of Sweet ’N Low.

 

“You’re still having nightmares?” Beth asked from her seat at Kat’s left. She and Kat had been friends since high school and, despite Beth only returning to New York a few months earlier after teaching in Texas for four years, they’d fallen back into their friendship easily.

 

It was nice to have her close again, completing their friendship trifecta, even if their constant worrying drove her near distraction. Kat knew they both meant well, but, along with her mother’s continuous anxieties about Kat’s job, it was becoming exhausting.

 

Ben shook his head. “You can always call me, you know?”

 

Like protective siblings, he and Beth frequently offered to stay the night when the nightmares hit, or offered the spare beds at their places, but she always declined.

 

“And wake you and Abby?” Kat asked with a lift of her shoulders. “Why would I call you?”

 

“Because we’re your friends and we care about you,” Beth said before spooning a large helping of crème br?lée into her mouth.

 

“Especially with this job,” Ben added.

 

Kat glared. “Don’t start.”

 

Ben held his hands up. “Who’s starting?”

 

Kat stirred her spoon around in her cup. “This job—”

 

“Is important to you—we know,” Beth interrupted. She was a little sharper around the edges than she’d been in high school, but her chestnut eyes and crazy cropped ash-blonde hair reaffirmed she was still the same girl Kat had known for years. “But we still worry.”

 

Ben rested a hand on Kat’s. “You have a lot coming up in the next few months.”

 

Kat dropped her gaze to the table.

 

“Your father’s anniversary isn’t far away. Just know that Abby and I are here, okay? We love you.”

 

“And I love you, too.” Beth grinned. “Even though Adam bought me a diamond, you’re still my number one, you know.” She wiggled the finger that held the gorgeous square-cut diamond engagement ring.

 

Kat tried to smile. “I know. Thank you both.”

 

Ben replied, “And remember, I’m a lawyer. If anyone in that place gives you a hard time, I’m your man. You know I could dig up shit on the pope if you needed me to.”

 

Beth and Kat laughed. It was probably true. Ben won most of his cases through sheer dogged determination, dirt digging, and favors. Like a hunting dog, he could sniff out scandal and blackmail at twenty paces.

 

“Hey, has your mom called?” Beth asked.

 

Kat exhaled hard. “Three times last night alone.”

 

Beth’s brow furrowed. “She called me, too. She’s worried, that’s all.”

 

Kat hummed sardonically. “Look, I know you’re Team Mom—”

 

“I’m not team anyone,” Beth countered. “I simply see where she’s coming from. It must be difficult for her.”

 

Kat huffed. “Difficult for her? She’s been on my case since I took this damned job. ‘It’s unsafe.’ ” She mimicked her mother’s tone. “ ‘I’m putting myself at risk working with those animals,’ blah, blah, blah.” Her shoulders slumped. “Why can’t she be supportive?”

 

“She means well,” Ben said. “She’ll come around.”

 

“Sure,” Kat replied, unconvinced.

 

*

 

Carter woke, having slept soundly; maybe he’d worn himself out plotting against Anthony Ward. He smiled. The motherfucker really had no idea who he was messing with.

 

He was to stay in his cell until four—two hours to go—which was when his twenty-four-hour punishment was over. For pushing a chair into a wall. What bullshit.

 

Maybe he’d pushed it a little harder than he should have, but his philosophy tutor had most definitely overreacted. And Ward? Well, he just knew all of Carter’s buttons to press.

 

Jack soon arrived with a rescheduled visit for Max and a disappointed look on his face, which made Carter’s insides clench. He appreciated Jack’s gesture, given the man’s thoughts on Max, and once again, he kicked himself for acting like a dick with his counselor. His mouth just ran away with him sometimes.

 

“So, I take it we don’t like philosophy?” Jack had asked with a small grin. “Aristotle not doing it for ya?”

 

“Not exactly.”

 

Jack nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks for the shit storm from Anthony Ward, by the way. I owe you big-time for that.”

 

“About that,” Carter mumbled from his bed. “My bad.”

 

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