She’s right. I can recall the expression on his face and how it morphed into anger. For a moment I wanted to believe he was protecting me, but that was stupid weakness on my part.
“Maybe he wasn’t acting, Elle,” Anya continues. “What if they aren’t connected? What if he’s just some guy who saw you coming out of the courthouse?” She doesn’t let me answer. “That first incident was strike one. And now it’s obvious he’s targeting you, Elle. I’m scared for you!”
I don’t need this right now. I need to take care of those kids. I don’t have time to be scared.
Not thinking about it and pretending it was nothing was easier.
“Okay. You win. What do I do?” I ask her, feeling even more defeated.
“What do we do.” She puts her arm around me. “We’re in this together.”
The next few hours are spent waiting, talking to police, and poring through thick binders filled with mug shots and wanted photos. I don’t see the guy who attacked me, so I work with a forensic artist to create a profile. By the time we’ve finished I’m shaken and exhausted.
“I don’t feel like shopping anymore.” I can’t help but look over my shoulder every few seconds as we cross the parking lot to the car.
“It was the right thing to do, Elle.”
“I know. It’s just now… very real to me,” I confess.
“Even if he was sent by Prescott or Harrison and Smith just to ‘intimidate’ you,”—Anya uses air quotes—“it could turn into something more real fast. You need to stay on your guard.” In an attempt to lighten the mood, she bribes me with, “Come on, we’ll get a smoothie at Blenders.”
I smile. “And, coincidence! Blenders is in the same mall as Penny’s.”
Anya laughs. “Maybe.”
“I am hungry. I could go for a smoothie.”
“Chocolate peanut butter?”
“Of course.”
After smoothies we find a cute pair of heels that’ll match her red dress perfectly.
After a wretched night of nearly zero sleep where I spent most of the time staring up at the ceiling wondering how I could possibly fix everything that was happening, Samson wedges open the door to my room and bounds onto the bed to tongue-bathe my face!
“Okay, boy! Okay.” Hopping off the bed, I get dressed and head downstairs.
Anya’s at the kitchen table with her laptop and a cup of coffee.
“I’ve got to get Samson out to the dog park for a run,” I say. “Want to come?”
“Sure.” She checks her watch. “I’ve got some time.”
“Do you have a date?” I tease as we dress in layers to protect against the cold.
She tilts her head. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“What? Dish!”
“His name is Mark. I met him at the coffee shop.”
Samson leaps around us.
“Get your leash,” I tell him, “we’ll go to the park.”
Immediately, Samson goes running to the foyer to retrieve his leash.
“He’s so smart,” Anya says as she watches him bound out of the room.
“Yeah, I’m starting to feel attached.” I hitch Samson’s leash on his collar, and we walk out the door to the car, snow crunching beneath our boots.
“Tell me about Mark,” I say once we’re situated in the car and headed toward the dog park that’s just up the road from the condo.
“He’s a med student. Blond hair, geeky rimmed glasses. He’s really cute. I think he’s a few years younger than me.”
“How did you two meet?” I smile, enjoying the lightness of our exchange and Samson’s excitement at staring out the window, his nose sticking out radaring into all the scents.
“The café at the Mayo Clinic. It was right after I finished my interview. He said hello.” Anya’s eyes light up with possibilities.
“What a great meet-cute!” I squeal. “Where is the date?”
“We’re meeting at the same café for lunch,” she explains. “His work and study hours are brutal.”
“I think it’s romantic to have your first date where you met,” I tell her wistfully. “If you both end up working there, it’ll be like your home away from home.”
“You’re not kidding.” She smiles.
We get to the park and walk through the lovely wintery scene—the pond is frozen over, and a few people are skating over it; dogs and their owners are frolicking about through the snowy wonderland.
“If the date goes well, I may ask him out to dinner,” Anya says.
“Nice! Where would you take him?”
“J. Selby’s, on Victoria, by the university.”
“You’ll have to tell me if it’s good.”
“You think I should have sex on the first date?!” she asks wild-eyed. “I mean, I totally want to, but won’t it make me look desperate?”
“Anya!” I burst with laughter. “I’m talking about the food!”
“Oh, right.” She blushes.
“Anyway, who cares if you have sex on the first date? If you want dessert after your meal, it’s totally acceptable. Own your sexuality. Don’t apologize.” I give her a one-armed hug across her shoulders.
“Good. Because it’s been months,” she emphasizes dramatically. “And I recently had to break up with Jack, my vibrator, he was losing his touch.”
Now we’re both laughing.
“Buttons and batteries only go so far.” I giggle. “And I’m happy you’re getting out. You work even more than I do.”
“I know. I feel like I lucked out. I was beginning to wonder how either of us could possibly even meet guys, considering all of our time is spent at work.” She adds, “Hey, maybe you’ll be next.”
“Sex maybe, but I definitely don’t need to start dating on top of everything else right now. I’ll live vicariously through you instead.”
In an instant, Samson yanks so hard, his leash snaps from my hand. “Oh my God, Samson!”
He bolts across the snow toward a huge black bear of a dog—at least I hope it’s a dog and not a bear—about a football field away. I hope the bear-dog is as crazy friendly as Samson, who really doesn’t seem to understand doggie social cues.
“Come on!” I tell Anya as we both run to catch up with him, but he’s already there. At least the black dog’s tail is wagging. Thank God.
“SAMSON, COME!” I shout across the field, trying to close the distance.
The guy with the bear-dog is kneeling in a welcoming stance.
He stands and turns around when he hears me shout again.
I hear Anya’s voice beside me. “Oh. My. God. I obviously need to come to the dog park more often.”
That’s when I freeze from a dead-out run.
Anya gets a few steps in front of me before she stops and looks back. “What are you waiting for?”
My mouth opens but nothing comes out. I just shake my head.
“What?”
“That’s. Him.”
“The thug!?” She starts reaching into her bag, for her mace, no doubt.
“No!” I step forward and still her riffling hand. “Callahan.”
She takes a closer look. “That is Callahan?” Her eyes spark mischievously.
“I told you he was hot,” I groan miserably.
Anya snorts a laugh and fans her face with her hand. “You didn’t tell me he was that hot!”
I force myself to move again, in his direction. “You can’t be attracted to my sworn enemy. That has to be against some friend code.”
“I don’t know, he’s ridiculously gorgeous.”
“He’s a douchebag.” I remind her.
“He’s on opposing council. It doesn’t necessarily make him a douchebag.”
My eyes could laser her in half right now.
“Fine,” she concedes. “But he’s the hottest douchebag I have ever seen. God, I’d love to see him out of that coat.”
“I could kill you. Seriously.”
She waves her hand at him and calls over sw
eetly, “That’s our dog. Sorry, he got away from us.”
Great, now he’s coming over.
“Oh, the hot angry sex the two of you could have,” she muses.
I jab her hard with my elbow.
“Ow!” She chuckles and grips at her arm, feigning injury.
“Stop it! He’ll hear you.” He’s not even twenty feet away, and he’s closing the distance fast.
“Ms. Hayes?” He looks as surprised as I must look.
I feel my shoulders stiffen. “Mr. Callahan.”
The two dogs are acting like they’re long lost soulmates finally reunited.
Traitors.
“What kind of dog do you have?” Anya asks of the big black bear, and I’m frustrated she just engaged Callahan in a conversation.
“He’s my brother’s Newfoundland. I’m dog-sitting. His name is Bailey,” he responds pleasantly. “Your husky is beautiful,” Callahan says as we watch the dogs run together.
“Thank you.” Ugh! Why did I even answer him?
I look toward Samson and think, Of all the dogs in the park, why did you have to choose Callahan’s?
“She’s fostering him for the local shelter,” Anya decides to input. “I’m Anya.” She reaches her hand out to Callahan.
“Connor.” He shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I keep my eyes on Samson. “I need to go catch him.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got him,” Anya says, and she runs off after the dogs, leaving me alone with Callahan.
“I’m going to help her.” I traipse in Samson’s direction.
Callahan follows me. “We really got off on the wrong foot. I wish we’d met under different circumstances.”
“But we didn’t.”
“Maybe we did,” he mumbles.
That doesn’t even make sense. I lift an eyebrow in his direction. “What does that even mean?”
“Nothing,” he mumbles again, and I shrug it off.
He’s quiet for a moment as we walk across the field. Of course, the closer we get, the farther the wayward pups run. And Anya doesn’t look like she’s doing anything helpful.
Callahan tries again. “I’d like to start over.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Maybe if you just got to know me?”
“Why would I want to do that?” I scoff. “I know you quite enough already.”
“I’m actually a really good guy,” he says, as if he’s almost—
“Are you… flirting with me?” I ask incredulously.
“No! No way.” He backpeddles fast, his tone raising and his voice speeding up. “No… I’m just trying to make friends with you.” He sighs and his next thought sounds sincere. “Or at least trying not to be adversaries.”
“Why would it even matter to you what we are?” I ask right before the toe of my boot hits a tree root and I trip.
Immediately, Callahan reaches out and steadies me with a strong hand. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I right myself quickly and pull from his grasp, cursing my clumsiness, embarrassed that his touch makes my heartbeat quicken.
“I realize we’re on opposing sides—but I’m not really an asshole—and I’m looking into everything you said at our meeting. I’m also working to find out who attacked you in the parking lot.”
“Don’t do me any favors.” My body’s response to his touch only disconcerts me and makes me angrier. “I can take care of myself.”
“I have no doubt.” He emphasizes the no as if he believes it. “However, if there is a connection between the case and the assault, I won’t rest until I find out the truth.”
I’m about to quip something to combat his fake sensitivity when Anya yells, “I’ve got Samson! And the big bear dog!” She trots over, a leash in each hand, the dogs dutifully following.
“Here ya go, Connor.” She passes the Newfoundland’s leash to him.
“Thanks.” He smiles. “You found a new friend, didn’t you, Bailey?”
“Oh my gosh,” Anya agrees as she roughs up both their fur coats. “I can’t believe how well they played. I thought they were going to run all the way to Wisconsin together.”
He laughs lightly.
Ugh! All this small talk is knocking my chakras out of alignment!
“We need to go,” I urge her. “Now.”
“Okaayy,” she says.
“It was nice to meet you, Anya,” Callahan tells her.
“You too,” she replies. “And you too, Bailey.”
Callahan turns his attention to me. “I hope to see you again, Ms. Hayes—out of court.”
Oh, the man’s soft smile could melt butter in Antarctica. Whatever! It won’t affect me.
“Bye, Samson.” He scratches behind the husky’s ear and then steals one more glance my way before he turns and leaves.
Finally!
Beside me, I hear Anya hitch in a breath.
“Don’t even.” I silence her with a lift of my hand close to her face. “Not one word. I don’t want to hear it.” And in the silence, I know both of us are checking out his amazingly sculpted ass cradled in his denim jeans while he walks away.
Angry at myself for taking in the view, I peek down at Samson, who is looking mournful for having been torn away from his new playmate.
Connor
“THAT BAD, HUH?” Cade says.
“Yeah! This case sucks! It runs through the murkiest moral territory, with all possible outcomes equally disturbing. At least if Jackson goes with his grandfather, one of the children will have a steady home. Of course, all three will be ripped away from each other forever… but all of them will have financial stability and compensation when they get older. It gives all of them a head start.” I shake my head. “But that head start is so far down the line. She’s right on every point. But I’ve lived out there, I’ve been in this system, if we could protect even one…” I say it, but the defense is slipping from my grasp. “We see this all the time, Cade, kids separated from their siblings. Tell me, how many of them get this kind of chance?”
It’s early morning, the sky is still dark and hazy as Cade and I walk the empty city street to open The Core.
Solemnly he says, “I’m sorry, Connor.”
His tone stops my stride. “For what?”
“This is the case that was handed to you with the reward of partnership attached.”
He’s right. And it stings.
“Harrison called it a ‘personal favor.’ Had it been a regular case up for grabs, I wouldn’t have touched it, Cade. I would’ve pulled seniority and passed it to another lawyer in the firm.” As I talk, Cade listens patiently, intently. “There are always unsavory cases, and this one doesn’t sit well with me. Had I read it first; had it not been attached to getting my name on the front door—”
“Maybe that’s why Harrison gave it to you in such a hurry. So you couldn’t.”
I rub my palms across my face, wanting it not to be true. “If this goes on another six weeks and this kid keeps getting tossed into juvie for running, no foster parents are going to risk taking him in.”
“Why don’t you meet with the grandfather?” Cade suggests as he unlocks the doors. “He is your actual client. See where his head is at. Tell him what you know about the system and the kids that you work with. Maybe you’ll be able to soften his heart. The three of them are his grandchildren after all.”
It makes me think of the class prejudice Ms. Hayes suggested Prescott was influenced by. I flick on the lights. “It’s a good idea.” Even though I have the suspicion Harrison might not appreciate it. As if I’m only supposed to go through him. I wasn’t given those specific instructions, but it felt unspoken. I’d been working under Harrison long enough to trust my vibes.
“You know how I feel about what they did to me and Colt,” Cade adds. “The man may have reason left in him.”
Colt, Cade’s older brother. I’ve heard the story so many times because he tells it to every new entry into North House. Their p
arents died in a fire when they were young teenagers. With no next of kin, they were separated, got into a hell of a lot of trouble for running away and trying to get back to each other. Nearly identical to Jackson’s situation. They would’ve lived homeless as long as they could’ve been together.
We walk the hall to Cade’s office. I nod. “I’ll try to set up an appointment with Prescott.”
Cade sits at his desk. I drop my gym bag and check my watch. Five AM. The brothers will be here soon. I look over at Cade—salt and pepper hair neatly trimmed, military style; he’s as tall as me at six foot two, now in his mid-fifties and just as buff as ever—physical, mental and spiritual fitness have been his life’s mantra. I think about the father he is to me. How he took me in, gave me a chance, gave me a home. Gave me a life.
Gave me love.
He also gave me a mother, Debra.
And my brothers.
You’d think I’d feel I was forever in his debt, but I don’t. It’s not like that. Nothing is owed, nothing expected.
It’s real. It’s family.
Mia famiglia, he always calls us. Mia famiglia.
My family is everything to me.
“There is something else,” I add.
“What’s that?” He looks up from his day planner.
“Jackson’s advocate. I think I’ve met her before. The chances are slim, and the idea itself is pretty farfetched… but I can’t shake it.”
“Does she recognize you?” He grins like he knows something. “Is she attractive?”
A half laugh-breath escapes my chest. “No. And yes. Very much so. But that’s not why she’s familiar.”
He looks like he wants more information but doesn’t push me for it. “Even if you are opposing council, it doesn’t mean you can’t be civil.”
“Yeah… no. There’ll be no civility. This case is very personal to her.”
“Hmm.” Cade looks back to his planner. “I know you. You’ll find a way.”
“I doubt that.” I grab my bag to leave, knowing he’s got a shit-ton to do today.
“When you say you’ve met her before, what does that mean exactly?”
I knew he’d want to know. I sigh, dropping my ass in the seat opposite him. I haven’t told anyone. He’s the best person I could confide in.
Risk: An Enemies to Lovers, Second Chance Romance Standalone (Brothers of Ink and Steel) Page 5