Fight Dirty by CJ Lyons Read Free Book Online

back to our clients.”
    “You still want to take this case?” he asked. “You know we might never be able to give them what they want. Is it for the money?” Jenna had expensive tastes, and her final paycheck from the US Postal Service had quickly been eaten up by the cost of renovating the offices. Lord only knew how sh e’d paid for the new furniture Morgan had acquired.
    She stopped, a small inverted V forming between her eyebrows. Glanced up at him without raising her chin, making her look like a little girl ready for a scolding. “Is that what you think? That I’m doing this for the money? That tha t’s why I want to send Morgan undercover, do anything we can to bring down ReNew?”
    Andre hesitated, then went for honesty just as he always did. “A contract with Green e’s company would be a huge win—”
    “A fourteen-year-old girl killed herself,” she interrupted. “Don’t you think someone should find out why?”
    Andre smiled. She raised her face to meet his gaze. He grazed a finger along her jaw, tracing its strong, willful lines. This was his Jenna, the woman h e’d fallen in love with. Headstrong, volatile, moody, yes, but once she found something worth fighting for she never backed down.
    “Okay, then,” he said, opening the door for her. “Le t’s get back to our clients.”

    Morgan sat in her car, an Audi Quattro sh e’d picked up at the airpor t’s long-term parking along with her latest house to crash in—God bless anniversary cruises—and listened to Jenna and Andr e’s discussion. Morgan had button cameras with mics scattered throughout Jenn a’s loft and the office space, all tied to an app on her phone. Oh, how Morgan loved technology.
    As she eavesdropped on Jenna and Andre arguing about whether or not Morgan should go undercover as a juvenile delinquent, she was torn between the challenge of proving herself to Andre and anger at Jenn a’s lack of concern over her welfare.
    They were both wrong—and both right. That was the problem with Norms. They always tried to figure every angle, including the emotional ones. If they just looked out for Number One like she did, they wouldn’t have to worry about quirky, random influences like emotions and everyone would be the happier for it.
    And this whole suicide thing? She totally didn’t get that. The girl, BreeAnna, was out of the detention facility, reform school, treatment center, whatever you wanted to call it, it was still a prison. She was free. So why the hell did she hang herself?
    Life was too damn precious. At least Morga n’s was. Suicide. The only situation she could even remotely imagine would drive her to such an extreme final option would be if she faced what her father now faced: being locked away under someone els e’s control.
    A few of the fish her father had caught had gone that route, killed themselves. Taken the easy way out, h e’d called it. It made him furious, would send him off on a rampage. Not because he cared about the women or their lives—they were under a death sentence as soon as he took them. Rather because it was an act of defiance, taking away his power, spoiling his fun.
    Morgan understood that. Power was everything. She even kind of admired the fish wh o’d had the nerve to defy her father.
    But killing yourself when you were walking around, free to do anything you wanted? That was just wasteful.
    She glanced at the clock. Nick would be breaking for lunch in twenty minutes. Perfect timing. She called his private cell, knowing it would go to voice mail while he was in with a patient, but it was part of their negotiation: no dropping in without notice.
    “Hey, I’m bringing lunch,” she told the machine. “I want to talk about suicide.” She smiled. That should get his attention. “See you soon.”
    As she ended the call another came through. Jenna. She debated letting it go to voice mail, then decided it was better to go ahead and get the inevitable over with. Jenna would fume and