The Criminal

Ch. 22: You're mine, Nicole. You're-just-mine.

George is much more coherent this afternoon, sitting up in his hospital bed. For the most part, he goes along with his attempt at suicide. He describes it as a lapse in judgement and assures me it won't happen again. I worry Murphy and his men will try again once he's transferred back to the prison but George seems to think he'll be in court before then. The date has yet to be set, but Lowes is pushing for it being soon.

"Who is Harry?" I ask, once my assessment is complete.

George falters, gazing at me with skepticism.

"You mentioned him when I last visited you."

"Oh."

"Was he important to you?" I question, pushing a little more than I usually would.

As messy as my situation with George is, he's still my client and I want to help him in any way I can.

"Yeah. He was my... he was my work colleague."

"Was," I repeat, picking up on his language. "Is Harry—"

"Dead."

"I'm sorry," I insist, maintaining eye contact. "How did it happen?"

George frowns, fists clenching.

"Has Kylie been in touch?" he asks, unprepared to discuss Harry any further. "She said she would call about bringing the court date forward."

I don't mention Lowes, nor my involvement with him. I figure there's a reason he hasn't mentioned me to George and I'd rather it stay that way. The less people who know, the better.

"Not yet," I share. "I'm sure they'll set a date soon."

"I'm meeting with my lawyers today," he informs, smiling. "They're supposedly the best."

I've no doubt Lowes has set his up.

"Are you feeling confident?" I ask, unnerved.

With Lowes' input and my glowing report, there's a chance he might actually walk free.

"Very much so," he claims, awfully happy for someone who was almost murdered in his prison cell.

I smile and slowly pack away my things, feeling a headache starting.

"Nicole..."

I look up and meet his gaze, the intensity in which I'm met with slightly concerning.

"Don't mention Harry ever again. Understood?"

I narrow my gaze, meeting his sternness head on.

"You're in no position to make demands, George."

His shock is evident, and I take great satisfaction in throwing him off.

"Understood?" I ask, towering over him.

It's the first time I've displayed even an inch of power and I can tell he wasn't expecting it.

"Where has this come from?" he asks, laughing.

I don't appreciate his mocking tone.

"It's reserved for when my clients act like arseholes."

His smile broadens. "He's got to you, hasn't he?"

"Who?

"Lowes."

Fuck—he does know.

I remain silent.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you, Nicole."

"No, you're not," I reply, packing away the last of my belongings.

George follows my every move, rejoicing in my loss of control. "I appreciate your help."