Elle cackles. “Naw, don’t do that. She’s already got someone, and he doesn’t play.”
ARCHER
Minka sits close beside me, her thigh pressed to my thigh, her shoulder almost completely tucked under mine, her hand wrapped around my hand.
Not because she has a particular penchant for public displays of affection. But because she’s already allpeopledout, and I’ve been gone all damn day.
“So then she just threw me off the building, Daddy.” Jen slaps the table and sends cutlery clattering. “She was cold and calculated and entirely toosmileyabout it. Pretty sure that’s a marker of psychopathy.”
“Sociopathy, dear.” Justin sits back in his chair, his posture shot to shit, his stomach a little full, and his smile entirely too fucking drunken-looking. Except he’s been nursing the same drink the whole hour we’ve been sitting, and I feel likedrunk, on him, is just happiness because of his overflowing table. “Psychopaths premeditate. They’re meticulous and cunning and often, genetically predisposed.”
“Yes, well?—”
“Sociopaths, on the other hand, are typically impulsive in their crimes. Doctor Mayet couldn’t possibly have predicted you would foolishly climb onto a building in the middle of the night in some other town, honey. Her pushing you off was, evidently, of a spontaneous nature.”
“Take the district attorney out of the courtroom,” Soph snickers. “But he’s still gonna argue like a lawyer. Hypothetically, sir, could we discuss case law for a moment?”
Justin’s lips twitch playfully, his chin coming down in acknowledgment. “Shoot.”
“So, say I know someone who committed a crime…”
Literallyeveryone’seyes swing to hers.
Which crime, Soph? The crimes you’ve committed today? This week? Last week… With my fucking wife?
“This personreallywants to gift someone something, but that someone is refusing to accept the gift. Is it a crime to force it on them, even if they don’t want it?”
“What’s the gift?” Fletch asks. “A hundred bucks? A kid? A case of the clap?”
I choke out a muffled laugh and drape my arm over Minka’s shoulder. Turning just my face, I press a kiss to her temple and feel her pulse thud-thud-thudding against my lips.
Lawrence gives Soph’s question genuine consideration. “Well… gifting someone money they weren’t expecting isn’t a crime. Gifting them an STD they weren’t expectingis. So I suppose, as always, the details matter here.”
“What if it was, say…” She risks a glance across to me. Or, well, Minka. “Let’s hypothesize this gift is food. A consumable of some sort.” Her lips split into a wide grin. “Cake.”
“Are you walking up and offering them this cake, and when they say no, you set it on the table and walk away? Or are you offering them this cake, they say no, so you stuff it down their throat? The second is a crime.”
“For God’s sake.” Minka furiously snarls. “Is the cake a certain medication, Sophia?”
“Oh! Yeah!” Jen bounces excitedly in her seat. “Good question. Can we stuff the cake down the recipient’s throat, Daddy?”
“No.”
“But—”
“That would be assault,” he chuckles. “And if we’re not talking about cake at all, but medication, then that’s even worse.”
“Okay, so what if we bake an actual cake and put the meds inside, and the recipientchoosesto eat the cake?”
He chuckles under his breath. “Assault.”
“What if we open the soluble cap and tip the compounded mixture into this person’s wineglass. If they’re willingly drinking the wine, and if we’ve already had this conversation, which could imply consent has been requested and received, then?—”
Lawrence shakes his head. “Assault.”
“Dammit, Daddy!”
“What if I gift someone a punch in their face?” Minka counters with a sadistic smile. “Right now, at this table. What if I even pre-warn everyone sitting here that the recipient will be a female Lawrence, thus, my intentions have been communicated and consent has been received, is that still assault?”