Page 7 of A Corruption Dark & Deadly

“I heard about your parents’ untimely demise,” Jericho said slowly. “DUI, right? No one was caught, am I correct? Hit and run?” Annie clenched her jaw. She didn’t like talking about her parents’ death. It was still a raw feeling and her voice could not be controlled. Her eyes would fill up with water and her face would get splotchy. And there was no way she wanted to appear that way in front of Jericho. There was no way she wanted him to know that about her. “I could do some research and find out what happened to them. Find out who committed the travesty. Make them pay.” He pushed his brows up, letting the unspoken question linger between them.

Annie’s throat went dry. He was asking if she wanted him to kill the person for her – or, at least, make them pay. She wasn’t going to lie. The thought had crossed her mind – how she would feel if she had ever met this mysterious person. Would they care that they killed a couple who had been married thirty years, with two grown children, and a house in the suburbs? Would they regret their actions or justify them? Would they turn everything around and make it about them – try and become the victim of the situation.

But to kill? To make them pay?

Annie wanted them to pay in court, to pay them back for the astronomic medical bill and the funeral expenses that Annie was still paying off, even a year later. Bruce couldn’t really afford it, considering he really did live paycheck to paycheck.

"I would rather put my faith in the police and our criminal justice system," Annie said. "They'll get what's coming to them. Eventually."

Jericho's pale green eyes seemed amused at her response. "Do you believe in some cosmic sense of justice through karma rather than taking fate into your own hands and extracting your own revenge yourself?" he asked. He wasn't critical of her belief, per se, but curious as to her logic.

"I believe in the law and our judicial system," she said. "I believe in right and wrong and punishment fitting the crime and that everything will get their return. The person who killed my parents deserves to be in prison for the rest of their life."

"Agreed," Jericho said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Except the problem with the law and our judicial system is that it’s corrupt. It always has been and it always will be. Certainly you understand that, don't you? How can you put your fate into something created by man?"

"So you're saying humanity, by its very definition, is flawed and therefore not worthy of putting your faith in?" Annie asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Absolutely not," Jericho said. "What I'm saying is you should have more faith in yourself than anything else. And if you put your mind to it, you could extract your revenge to whatever you deem as appropriate - not twelve strangers who don't know the whole story, who might be agreeing with whatever just to go home."

Annie clenched her jaw but did not look away. "I'm not here to argue about the flaws in our judicial system," she told him.

"Neither am I," he told her. "I'm just advising you to refrain from trusting a system that is inherently racist and unjust in order to attain the closure you desire." He raised a brow.

"What are you?" she asked slowly. "Some kind of vigilante?"

"I'm a man who knows what he wants and takes it," he explained. "I make my own fate. I don't require assistance from others."

Without meaning to, Annie's eyes shifted to his bodyguards before sliding back over to him. Jericho laughed, a surprising sound that resembled bells. Music. Was this guy flawed in anyway?

"I like you Annie Brennan," he said once his laughter stopped. "You're clever. I suppose you make a good point. I don't rely completely on myself to get things done. I hire people to do it for me."

"That doesn't mean they're loyal," Annie pointed out.

"You are correct," Jericho said with a nod, "but I don't expect their loyalty to be just given to me. Who am I to them except another rich white man making them promises I probably won't keep? See, the difference between me and them is that I pay for their loyalty. I offer them a competitive wage and an excellent benefits package so deciding they don't want to work for me would be illogical."

"So you know they're working for you for practical reasons and that they aren't tied to you in any way," Annie said slowly, "and you're okay with that?"

Jericho nodded once. "I prefer it that way," he said. "I have beautiful women throwing themselves at me every day. Do you think it's because they want to be with me or because they want to be with my money? At least with my employees, I'm paying them to do a job. I can expect them to do a job. It's business. There are no emotional ties complicating the situation." He tilted his head at an awkward angle as he continued to regard her. "I guess you could say I prefer to keep business and pleasure separate."

She arched a brow at him, like she didn't quite believe him.

"You've never dated your employees?" Annie asked doubtfully. "And when I say date, I hope you know that word encompasses all sorts of raunchy activity like having sex or oral or, you know."

"Annie!" Bruce exclaimed. Annie could tell her brother was embarrassed by her comments due to the way his entire face was turning red but, quite frankly, she didn't particularly care.

"I don't know," Jericho said with a slow, easy smile. The kind that haunted your dreams at night. "Please. Elaborate."

"That's my sister, dude," Bruce told Jericho. He cut his eyes over to Bruce and Bruce straightened but he didn't apologize. Annie felt herself relax next to him. It was nice to know that her brother had her back, even if Bruce had called Jericho dude.

"Of course," Jericho said. "I apologize."

"I don't care about how you run your business," Annie said, jumping in at the silence. "I don’t care about business and pleasure and your role in your employees' lives. I care about my house. I care about my parents' legacy. Bruce doesn't have the right to give up something that ours."

"But the house isn't ours," Bruce said in a quiet, hesitant voice. "It's mine."

Annie shot her gaze over to her brother's profile. His shoulders were slumped forward, his eyes cast down as though he was ashamed of this admittance. He should be; it was a lie.

"What are you talking about?" Annie said, her voice dangerously low. She curled her fingers into tight fists, her fingernails making crescent moons in her skin.