"How did you get the feds?" Those dark eyes gleam as he replies, "Everyone has a price." I shake my head, "Not everyone. Some people are good." His eyes narrow slightly, "You had a price." I can feel bile seer my throat. I look away, eyes darting to the floor in shame. Fuck him for saying that. My voice is tight, "You didn't leave me much of a choice." Those golden eyes swirl. I cannot bear to raise my eyes to meet his gaze. His voice is low, "If that's what makes you sleep at night." Law is what I pursue in the court room in Chicago, yet it is sin that I chase in the shadows of the city and the depth of his eyes. I cannot erase the desire to walk the edge between evil and good and dance upon the blade of his knife. Perhaps I will get myself killed. Perhaps I will get him arrested. Perhaps it will be both of our downfalls. But if I go down, I intend to take him crashing with me.
11 parts