Page 74 of Pulling Strings

Still unsteady, I turned toward the exit, but Talbot grabbed my shoulder and forced me back into my seat.

“Wait,” he commanded. “Let the media sharks clear out, or they’ll eat you alive.”

The Thorngate guard appeared in my peripheral, moving quickly toward us. He stopped in front of the table and held out a hand to Talbot. His wordless request eluded me until Talbot reached into his pocket and produced the shock collar remote. The guard took it and pressed a button.

I flinched, expecting pain, but heard a mechanical click instead. The collar fell open, bringing the immediate levity of freedom. Magic thrummed in melike a second pulse, reminding me how dead I felt without it. The moment of sweet relief rushed by. I had no time to savor it while the guard stood over me, scowling.

I loosened my tie and unbuttoned my shirt to fish the collar out. Once I had it in my grasp, I was tempted to snap the hinge backward out of spite. Let the guard say something. Call me inmate. Give me a reason to prove I wasn’t so easily subdued outside of a prison cell.

Instead, I tossed it onto the table for the guard to take.

He scooped it up, then took off at a brisk pace. In his stead, Holland Lyle approached. No limp in her step from Avery’s knife attack, but of course the Capitol princess had access to the best healers. She wouldn’t suffer so much as a paper cut but for the time it took to call a medic.

The way her head kept swiveling back to where Briggs lingered near the far wall, I could tell her attention was divided, but mine was fixed on the dips and hollows of her stomach, easily viewed through her sheer mesh top.

When my eyes made it past her breasts to her face, I flashed a smile. “Long time no see, Investigator. Did you come to congratulate me?”

She bent over the table, bracing on her arms to lean very near my face. “I don’t know what you or your connections did to make this happen, but you should use it. Turn your life around. Better yourself. Make a fresh start.”

She smelled faintly spicy, not like the flowery body store bullshit most girls wore. It suited her.

I took a deep whiff before replying, “That’s strange advice to give an innocent man.”

Her face puckered as though she’d tasted somethingsour. “There’s a difference between innocent and not found guilty.” She stood straight and reached into her slacks pocket, pulling out a small metal case. “Regardless, take this.” She handed me an embossed black and gold business card. “Call me if you want to talk. About anything.”

I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms. “I have to say, Investigator, I’m disappointed. Not that I didn’t want your number, but I figured you would at least make me work for it.”

“Unbelievable.” She yanked off her sunglasses so she could scowl directly at me.

The sight of her eyes, hazy gray and narrowed with eyeliner giving sharp edges, held me rapt.

“Do you realize what just happened here?” she asked, her nostrils flaring. “You got away with murder. Dozens of murders. You should be on your way to the guillotine right this minute.” The tap of her finger along with the last three words added emphasis.

“Instead,” she continued, “you’re sitting here, looking smug, dropping shitty pickup lines. You don’t even have the good sense to be grateful.”

Gratitude was somewhere in the mixed bag of feelings through which I was currently muddling. Alongside the fear that if I pinched myself, I would wake up in a prison cell with a growing sense of betrayal. Grimm’s testimony may have given the jury reasonable doubt, but it did a number on me, too. My win in court was a massive loss for my reputation. In one day, they effectively discredited everything I’d ever done.

Thirty-two kills and counting. Was I proud? Donovan had asked. Maybe a little.

Talbot leaned over, drawing the investigator’s focus. “I think you’ve said enough, Miss Lyle,” he told her.

Holland’s eyes darted from him back to me, not ready to quit. “You know I felt sorry for you?” she asked. “I thought you needed help. Wanted it. But maybe you’ve had what you wanted all along.”

I held her gaze steadily and silently.

She shoved back from the table to stand straight once more. “Congratulations, Fitch. I hope you’re happy. Really, I do.”

As I watched her go, my thoughts and mood yo-yoed.

Ruckus continued outside the courtroom, muffled by the distance and closed door between it and me. I imagined the lawn outside, littered with protestors, was in full-blown pandemonium. The press was lower on my list of concerns than vigilantes ready to exact justice in the absence of a guilty verdict. I may have been a free man, but I had no fewer enemies than before. And, if I wanted to maintain my newfound squeaky-clean persona, my options for self-defense were limited.

Talbot was in no hurry, silent beside me since his brief words to Holland.

Standing, I turned toward him. “This has been fun, but I am ready to get out of here. A little scared they’ll change their minds, you know?” My effort at laughing was choked by a surge of anxiety.

Talbot rose as well, smoothing his suit coat. “We’ll go out the back. Usually, I would return you to Thorngate to gather your belongings but, with all the turmoil from last night, the prison is still on lockdown.”

I nodded, mentally inventorying the contents of my pockets when I’d been arrested. Cigarettes and lighter, wallet, keys…

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