Read Elastic Heart for Free Online Page A

rascal?” Law asked, quirking an eyebrow as Raskol zoomed by.
    “No, like Raskol. What the fuck did I just say?” I was getting sick of playing nice with the could-be-vile sycophant. I didn’t want to spend time deciphering his true intentions. He’d had a meal with him ; that was all the proof I needed that Law was no good. Why had I nearly forgotten that? It was long past time he left, and since Raskol had done a poor job of getting him to go, it was my turn.
    “I think it’s time you get the fuck out of my apartment,” I snapped.
    “What is your problem?” Law asked, walking farther inside. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you, even after you punched me in the face and told me to fuck off!”
    “Yeah, apparently you can’t take a hint.” I reeled. “I know who you work for so stop pretending!” Law took another step and I shoved his chest. Like hitting an oak, it did nothing to sway him.
    Law eyed me and my hands, confusion marring his stupidly perfect features. “I work for myself.”
    I laughed. Maybe the liquor had affected me, or maybe I was drunk on anger. I’d known I shouldn’t get drunk. It was easy to take advantage of a drunk person, but the liquor calmed my mind. It erased the memories that surfaced like dead limbs. My words were coming much easier now, too. It felt like they were slipping from my mouth like water down an iceberg.
    “Stop acting like you don’t know who I am!” As I backed away from him, I tripped over my couch. I fell onto the floor, Raskol’s dog bed bracing my landing. “Even if I could believe you don’t work for him —which I don’t—you know who I am!”
    “A crazy lady?” Law asked, taking a step toward me. He offered his hand to help me up, but I smacked it away.
    A little wobbly, I stood up without his help. Counting off the names people had called me on my fingers, I spat them back at him: “Whore, slut, liar!”
    Law opened and closed his mouth. For a moment he wasn’t a handsome albeit dirty prick, he was a fish out of water. Eventually he asked, “Who do you think I work for?”
    I’d had it with him. I’d had it with the deception and games he was clearly playing. Whatever sick, twisted ending he had planned for me, I wanted it to happen now. I wasn’t prepared, but I was sure I would never be prepared. You can try as you might to prepare for an earthquake or a tsunami, but the fact of the matter is, it’s still devastating when it hits.
    I opened my mouth and prepared for my earth to be rocked. “Mitch Morris!”
     
     

 
    “As in Senator Mitch Morris?” Law asked.
    My fist was clenched at my side and my other hand felt empty. My .22 was about a foot away, nestled in the purse I’d dropped angrily to the ground. I wanted to lunge for it, but that would be too obvious. Still, I felt so exposed and helpless. I’d laid all my cards on the table and now I was without any extra chips. I really didn’t know what to expect from Law.
    I was sure he was working for Morris. Sure that Morris had hired him to do something with me. Kill me? Maybe. At least Morris wanted me silenced, of that I was pretty certain. Still, I wasn’t sure how much Morris had told Law. Perhaps Law had no idea what Morris had done to me.
    I nodded in response to Law’s question, waiting for the incredulity and hate to flow. Six months before, when the rape was still fresh and I was still naive enough to think people would believe me, I had learned the hard way that most didn’t respond well to finding out their beloved senator and prominent church leader was a rapist. Instead they chose to believe I was a whore. A slut. A liar.
    “Wait…” Law took a step away from me. I was used to that too. It was as if after finding out what had happened to me, I became tainted. Plagued. Like my terrible “lies” would spread to them too. “A couple of months ago there was a news story—”
    “About an intern who tried to smear Morris. Called him a rapist but turned out she