Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,5
seem to be buried lately.”
A shrug lifts my shoulders. “No more than usual.”
“I bet there’s some fresh meat at the prison who’s stealing all of your attention.” Grace waggles her eyebrows as she nudges a frosty margarita my way.
I indulge in a hearty gulp, hoping the slushy contents will cool the sudden inferno burning up my neck. Tangy lime with a strong hint of tequila burst on my tongue. A sigh of pleasure escapes me at the tasty combination. “Nope, I haven’t been assigned to a new inmate for several months.”
They’re well aware that I’m tied to strict confidentiality agreements in regard to my clients. Not that my friends would have any clue who I’m blabbing about anyway. But that’s beside the point. A breach of trust is a cardinal sin and almost impossible to fix. I do indulge their curiosity with common facts and figures that can be found by simple research methods. Anyone with access to the internet can gain plenty of intel on convicted criminals. There are no rules being broken by sharing general knowledge and basic demographics.
“When did you last visit the penitentiary?” Casey’s husky tone makes that word sound indecent.
I glance at her over the salted rim of my drink. “Yesterday.”
“And did anything exciting happen?”
A vision of broad shoulders rolling back and flexing with pride, disappearing beyond concrete barriers, flashes with clarity. But that’s my personal memory. “No.”
Her sigh is coated with frustration. “Give me more than that.”
“Yeah,” Grace chimes in. “We need to live vicariously, Blake.”
This line of questioning isn’t unusual or surprising. I can understand their frequent interest. My friends work in the corporate world, surrounded by suits and ties. The experiences I deal with are on the opposite end of a totally different spectrum. “What do you want me to tell you?”
Grace hums a happy sound, leaning her cheek into an open palm. “Are they all super hot?”
I snort out a laugh. “Sorry to bust your lust bubble, but no.”
Her mouth quirks in the corners. “A bad boy who needs to be redeemed is a sexy thought.”
She earns a flat look from me. “Don’t romanticize their stories. The vast majority of these men are very dangerous. They’ve committed serious enough crimes that sent them to prison. Not sure many of them can be reformed.”
But even as I douse those words with conviction, they taste sour. Do I want to believe they can all be saved, in whatever sense that might be? Absolutely. That’s not realistic, though. Regardless of how plausible, the innocent claims of one particular case seem to appeal louder than others. He’s one that I’ve been secretly rooting for. I bite my bottom lip and attempt to chase away thoughts of troubled brown eyes.
Casey swats at the air. “Don’t kill the fantasy. Let’s not pretend a certain someone hasn’t piqued your interest.”
No amount of alcohol can disguise the raging flush once he’s brought up, by name or mere suggestion alone. I do my best not to squirm as a tingle skitters along my thighs. Halder Rane has been my slice of forbidden over the last few years. I’ve treated myself to countless servings of the visual variety, but that’s the extent of our interactions. We’ve never shared anything more than heated looks. Had I been finding excuses to visit the prison more often? It’s shameful to admit that the answer is yes. But that’s all over now.
A loud slap on the table has me returning to the moment. Both of my friends are gawking at me. Grace is the first to speak. “Oh, my gosh. Are you blushing?”
Casey lets a giggle loose. “I was mostly joking, but your reaction says otherwise. There is a special guy in there, huh?”
“Not anymore,” I mutter.
She scoffs. “There’s no way he turned you down. What other options does the man have?”
I roll my eyes. “Because I would actually make a move.”
Grace scoots closer, seeming to be overly invested in the possibility. “Why not?”
“Um, for starters? He’s a convicted criminal.”
“That’s a bit judgmental,” Casey deadpans.
“It’s really not,” I retort. “He was found guilty for a reason.”
“Which is?”
“Even if I knew, I’m not allowed to discuss the specific details.”
Grace takes a long sip of her cocktail. “Can we look it up?”
“Well, yeah. But that feels like an invasion of privacy.”
She raises a brow. “You’re the one who told us all that stuff is accessible in a public database.”
“It is, for the most part. Feel free to investigate, if that’s what you want to do.”
Casey frowns. “Your