Conflict of Interest

Chapter Forty Five

Happy birthday, @AshlyHarter! Hope you all enjoy the (somewhat brief) update...more coming your way soon.

Xoxoxo,
Railene

***

Kim

"Okay," I sighed, hanging my head in my free hand. "Well, thanks for calling, I guess."

"Sorry, Hayden. Wish it were different."

"It's alright," I said, going to hang up. "Thanks."

I placed my head on the table in front of me, not wanting to think about it.

"Fuck," I said out loud, though I was alone. Then I heard the key turn in the lock, and wanted to say it again, only forty times louder. Grace was clearly on the phone as she walked in, and I was grateful that maybe she'd be too distracted to notice that I'd physically collapsed.

"I know, right? Right? That's what I said. I know, she's so...whatever. Yeah. Yeah, I know. Okay, I have to go. Okay. Bye bye."

I picked my head up and went about trying to look normal. It was impossible.

"Hey, baby," she said, which felt like a knife through my stomach. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I lied. "How was your trip?"

"You look sick, Kim, like seriously sick. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"The defendant in my case made bail," I said. "That's all."

"What does that mean?"

If only Carrie were here, I thought. She would have had a Roman holiday with those four words.

"It means someone paid money so she doesn't have to sit in jail until her trial."

"No, I know what bail means," Grace said, just slightly offended. "God, how stupid do you think I am?"

I didn't want to answer that, because I didn't want to think about how Carrie's constant vitriol may have changed my opinion. That wasn't healthy, was it? Was I really that impressionable, that spineless? Or did I just value Carrie's approval that much?

"I...you asked what it meant," was what I said.

"I mean, what does that mean for you? You know, the implications..."

See, that was a four syllable word.

"Oh," I said. "I don't know. Just that I have to watch my shit, I guess."

"Can we talk about something without you getting mad at me?" she asked, sitting down.

Oh, Grace. If only you know how terribly hypocritical it would be of me to be mad at you for anything. At this point she could ask me to help her stash a body and I'd still be in no position to judge.

"Sure," was all I said.

"Why were you in Carrie's apartment that night in the first place?"

"I was drunk," I said immediately. To be fair, that was the truth. "It was her birthday, the PD went out for drinks, and I was drunk. And I didn't want to drive."

"I would have picked you up."

"You weren't speaking to me."

"I wasn't speaking to you?"

I shook my head. "You were mad at me because you and Carrie had a catfight down at the precinct and I took her side. Okay, I didn't really take her side, I just...I didn't take yours."