“It doesn’t sound like he’s behind this, sweetheart,” Anya says soothingly, her disembodied voice chiming through the laptop speaker. She was still at work when I got back to the apartment, but I needed to talk to her—no, to see her—so I resorted to Skype.
“He works for those… people!” I spit the word.
“He also works for people like Cade and Debra, people you truly admire.”
“How can he be both? How hasn’t he had to take sides up until this point?”
She sits back in her chair, thinking. “Maybe his career hasn’t interfered with his beliefs until now.”
“Didn’t he know it was coming?”
She casts me a sympathetic glance.
I shake my head and answer myself. “I don’t think he did. He was genuinely shocked. But then he also went right into lawyer mode, spouting facts without emotion… UGH!” I stand from the couch and wear some more lines into the carpeting.
“Elle…,” Anya says, her tone carefully patient.
“It’s my fault! I fell in love with him.” I set a knee onto my chair to peer into the screen. “I started playing house with him and the kids. I let my guard down. I began to believe I had a real shot at adopting them. I thought my new connections with the Norths and my work with them would make me more qualified. And a better candidate. I thought Connor was somehow going to fix it and make things right. What was I thinking?”
“You had hope.”
“Maybe. When I thought he was on our side.”
“You already know what I think; plus, I’m highly certain he is on your side. I believe he cares as deeply about this as you do,” Anya says.
Sensing my pain, Samson comes over and nudges his chin against my knee. I can’t let Anya’s statement in. Anger is a better fuel than grief or self-pity. I can’t afford either of those emotions right now.
“I’ve combed the city and surrounding neighborhoods for hours. So have Cade and Debra and their volunteers.” That included a few of Connor’s brothers. I know from Debra’s texts that Liam, Talon and Reese came on the scene after I left. “The police are looking for him, too. He could freeze to death out there.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“Lily’s nightmares had finally stopped, and Max had just come out of his shell.”
“And Connor is more than half responsible for that miracle,” Anya reminds me.
“I know.” I begin to sob again.
“Have you ever thought that Connor may feel the same way about you that you do about him?” she asks softly. “Maybe the two of you would be able to solve this better together than apart?”
Maybe she’s right. On both counts. Or maybe she’s wrong. Maybe our relationship had simply been “fun” for him. A sexual fling and a nice diversion. He was Minnesota’s most eligible bachelor, after all. Maybe he had no plans to settle in for the long haul. His career was just taking off. The closeness he and I shared at North House and The Core made me unable to think straight. It made me start to believe we were somehow… somehow a family.
I shake my head, trying to rattle some sense into myself. I was just experiencing misplaced emotions due to the highly charged, shared situation.
“You’re massaging your pendant again,” Anya says, bringing my unconscious action to the surface.
Our St. Sophia pendant. The other reality Connor and I share.
Connor
GILCREST OPENS THE doors. Immediately, I hear Jackson shouting at his grandfather, “You did this, you took them away! You won! You hear me? You won!”
Prescott’s pompous voice sounds from the intercom embedded on the foyer wall. “Never doubt me again, boy,” he chides in the face of Jackson’s obvious misery. “Now it seems as if we have another guest, so try to hold yourself together.” His voice takes on an even more formal tone. “You may now let Mr. Callahan through, Gilcrest.”
Gilcrest ushers me into the sitting room, where I’d had the pleasure of waiting before my first meeting with Prescott. Now the old man is donned in a silken evening robe, and he’s squaring off with Jackson in the center of the Persian rug. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room strikes the half hour. It’s 1:30 a.m.
Jackson is shocked at the sight of me. “What are you doing here?”
“I came here to help you.”
“How did you even know I’d be here?”
“It’s what I would’ve done.”
For a brief moment anger flickers across his expression, but love tries to break through. He forces it back. “Haven’t you done enough already? I trusted you to help us!”
“I know.” I confess, “I failed you. I’m sorry.”
“How tender,” Prescott interrupts. “But the boy has a proposal for me that I’d like to hear. You’ll be taken care of soon enough.” He throws the warning at me, and I wonder what he means.
Jackson is visibly shaken by my presence. The fight in his eyes is suddenly streaked with doubt.
“You don’t have to do this,” I tell him cautiously.
His resolve hardens. “I do have to do this! You can’t help us; Elle can’t help us. No one can.” Jackson breathes heavily. “I came here to make an offer, and I’m making it.” He turns to Prescott. “You want me? I’ll give you me. I’ll sign whatever papers you want and I… I,” he stutters, “I promise I won’t run away. But you have to let Max and Lily stay together. You can’t separate them. They get to live in the same house, no matter what. And I’ll stay with you. That’s my deal.”
I wince and Prescott draws a contemplative breath.
I knew Jackson would come here to challenge his grandfather. And I knew he’d sacrifice his own happiness for his brother and sister’s.
“It’s not over yet, Jackson. We’re not done fighting,” I insist.
“Oh yes you are, Mr. Callahan. I’m going to make sure you never practice law in this state again.”
“I’m not afraid of you. Or your threats. You mean nothing to me, Prescott. These kids, however, are the world to me. You only care what you can get out of them.”
“Another sentimental soul. All that makes you is weak,” Prescott reproaches.
I ignore him. “Jackson, leave with me now. You don’t need to stay here.”
Prescott nods to Gilcrest, who sidesteps out of the room. We’re running out of time.
“You don’t understand,” Jackson implores quietly, defeat clouding his eyes. “He’ll never stop. The adults will never listen. The judge is on his side.” He shakes his head. “It is over. At least this way Max and Lily get to stay brother and sister.”
I lower myself to one knee, so we’re eye to eye. “Jackson, he’s not the kind of man who keeps his promises.”
He doesn’t seem surprised by my statement. “I know.” Jackson shrugs. “But what choice do I have? This is their best chance.”
I can barely breathe. “I love you, Jackson.”
“I love you too, Connor. When we were at North House, sometimes I pretended you were my dad.” He throws his arms around my neck.
In a moment, the police come flooding into the house.
“This is the man who broke into my home. He is trespassing and harassing me,” Prescott tells the police.
That’s what he meant about taking care of me. He must’ve called them before he even let me in.
I’m thrown to the floor and handcuffed in front of Jackson, who begs his grandfather to stop. Gilcrest heavy-handedly escorts Jackson upstairs. We’re able to glance one more time at each other before he disappears.
I’m desperately terrified it’ll be the last time I’ll ever get to see him.
“You know the procedure, Callahan,” Officer Torrance reminds me after he’s done booking me. “One phone call.”
I’ve been treated well since I got here. The guys who arrested me were rookies, new to the department; the guys down at the precinct all know me from either my defense work or through my work with teens.
Staring at the phone, my mind become
s conflicted. All I want to do is call Elle. Let her know I found Jackson and that, at least for the time being, he’s safe. The chances of her even picking up the call knowing it’s me, though, are slim to none. I dial Cade.
By the time I get processed, it’s after six in the morning. Cade is waiting for me in the lobby.
“I wasn’t sleeping anyway,” he quips before clapping his arm around my back. “Come on, son. Let’s go home.”
I shake my head. “I can’t yet, but I could use a cup of coffee.”
He examines my expression. “Do you want advice?”
“No.” I laugh lightly. “Even though you give the best. I know what I need to do.”
Cade nods. “I got your car out of impound already. Let’s go get that coffee and get you on your way.”
The Southview Country Club is busy for their early morning champagne breakfast buffet and local’s golf tournament. I find Harrison at his regular table, a giant spread of food before him and surrounded by colleagues. Many of them stand and greet me with a handshake, though they’re visibly curious—more likely from my disheveled appearance as opposed to my presence. I’ve been known to schmooze here from time to time.
“Connor, you look like hell. Didn’t you sleep at all last night?” Harrison jeers from across the table as several others chuckle. Interestingly, he doesn’t appear at all surprised.
“Not really. Hard to get a good night’s sleep in a holding cell.”
Everyone sobers up quick.
“I need a word with you in private,” I request.
“Anything you have to say can be said right here,” he insists with a pretentious smile. “We’re in the presence of friends.”
I purse up my lips and nod. “Hmm… no problem. Why the hell couldn’t you have let those children stay where they were until the trial? What the hell kind of monster are you? Separating siblings who are just five, nine, and twelve years old who just lost their parents? Did you do it out of spite? For more pomp and prestige?” I gesture around at his friends and the room. “Or maybe you ruined three young lives for a fatter fucking wallet?”
Suddenly, several attendants in crisp, red, Southview blazers flank the table. Guess they’re not thrilled with my public disturbance.
“It’s obvious you are not in your right mind, Connor.” Harrison’s eyes glint at me with caution. “My client requested—”
“Your client paid you off,” I accuse blatantly. “You and Judge Andrews.”
A collective gasp comes from the crowd around us.
“Looks like you want to be arrested a second time today.” Harrison glances to one of the attendants, who quickly walks away.
“I don’t care,” I dig in with resolve.
“Such accusations are libel, a criminal offense in Minnesota. You know that.”
“Mr. Harrison, for the sake of any friendship we have left to salvage, come speak to me privately.”
Reluctantly he stands from the table. “Excuse me, gentleman.”
We’re ushered by an attendant to a private room with a table and chairs. Harrison sits down. I’m too furious and beyond the point of no return to join him.
“How many other unsavory clients have we represented? Have I helped?”
“Careful, Connor, don’t say anything more that you’re going to regret,” he warns, fire brewing in his gaze.
“The only thing I regret is having looked up to you, admiring you without seeing the truth of who you are until now.”
“You’re tired and angry. Now, I have damage control to do out there, while you cool off and think about your future.” He stands and glances toward the door impatiently. “We’ll talk about the Prescott orphans Monday.”
“You say orphans like it’s a dirty word.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t care one way or the other. You’re the one who fucked up when you told Cade about the situation and had him pull his strings. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about it? Or that Prescott’s money couldn’t reach the almighty Cade North?”
“Why did you do it in the first place? Why did you give me this assignment? Knowing I’d have a conflict of interest?” I examine his expression as a trial lawyer for glimpses of truth and tell-tale signs of lying. “Didn’t you think I’d find out about Prescott, what he was trying to do to those kids?”
“As an orphan yourself, Connor, I thought you of all people would understand the importance and value of a good opportunity. Jackson Prescott would’ve had the world handed to him.”
“At the cost of his soul. And his siblings,” I answer incredulously. “The value of an opportunity isn’t measured by money or fame or even a home. The value of life lies in the people we love. Without them, everything else becomes meaningless.”
Harrison presses his lips into a seam. There’s something else he’s not saying.
Suddenly it all clicks into place.
“You turned this case over to me because of Ms. Hayes.” As I say it, I watch Harrison’s eyes flash, telling me I’ve hit the nail on the head. “When Jackson Prescott went to The Defender and Ms. Hayes took them on for representation, she made certain the case made headlines in the local news. To counter, you wanted my name, my backstory, to make the entire situation more palatable to the community so the public would be sympathetic. Surely the city’s troubled teen, an orphan-turned-lawyer, would have the poor children’s best interests at heart, and by extension, so did the firm.”
“Be careful, Connor,” he grits through his teeth.
“Nah, fuck that. I’m done being careful. How many qualified foster parents’ applications did you and Judge Andrews make sure never saw the light of day? Including Ms. Hayes’s.”
“You listen to me—” He takes a threatening step toward me.
“I’m not finished. There is also the matter of the man you and Prescott hired to intimidate Ms. Hayes.”
“You can’t prove a goddamn thing. But I can. Don’t think I don’t know about your association with Ms. Hayes. There’s the conflict of interest. Look, Connor, I’ll forget about your stunts: interviewing Mr. Prescott and getting those kids into North House behind my back. I won’t press charges for libel or fire you for fucking your opposing counsel. Come Monday, we’ll go back to business as usual. As if this messy incident never happened. I already gave Jeffries the case; you’ll never have to look at it again.” He leans over and mock sniffs me. “You should take a shower. You stink.”
I can’t believe he’s spinning it to make it seem like I’m the one who should be grateful. And it’s not sitting right with me. “Why would you do that? Even after I humiliated you with your golf buddies?”
“Oh, you’ll still be escorted out of here for that stunt; however, I’ll tell my companions you’ve been drinking all night and have been grossly misinformed. Don’t piss away the possibility of your partnership,” Harrison cautions. “You’re acting as if I’m on trial. After everything you did. You’re treading on very thin ice, Connor.”
“I’m rather confident it’s you whose treading on thin ice, Mr. Harrison,” I retort. “And I don’t want to be a part of this firm when you go plunging in. In fact, I don’t want to be a part of this firm at all. I am formally tendering my resignation.”
He lunges forward, as if he might take a swing. “You’ll regret this.”
“No, I won’t. I’ve never been so sure.”
“I’ll have you disbarred! You’ll never work in this city again.”
“Funny, that’s what Prescott said.” I shake my head at him. “You don’t control my destiny. I’d rather sleep on the streets than work another minute for a man like you.”
I walk toward the door.
“You’ll be sorry, Callahan.”
“Do your worst.”
When I walk out of the room, two officers are waiting for me.
I hold out my arms, wrists together, to make it easier for them to apply the handcuffs.
“Twice in twenty-four hours. This may be a record,” Offic
er Barrett jokes.
“Wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t done in extremes.”
“Yeah, but I hate to do this to you, Connor.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He brings me back to the holding cell, talking as we walk. “You’re the only reason my boy turned around after getting involved with the Vipers.” The Vipers is one of the worst gangs on the east side.
“You’re just doing what you have to do,” I say, trying to ease his distress. “We’re cool.”
Still, his expression is very apologetic as he closes the metal door in my face.
There are a handful of other guys in here, but I’m not too worried—nobody I couldn’t take if they started a fight. Plus, Cade will be on his way to get me again soon.
Only problem is, with my mind finally quiet, all I can think about is Elle.
I lay back against the cold metal bench and close my eyes.
Sometime later, one of the guys in the cell starts hammering on my shoulder. “Dude.”
I growl. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Dude, come on. Wake up. There’s a pretty girl here.”
I open one eye and squint up at him against the harsh light. “I don’t give a shit. Leave me alone.”
“She’s here for you, man.”
I immediately leap to my feet. “Elle!” Not believing what I’m seeing, I wrap my fingers around the cold, black iron bars and peer into her face in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know, Connor. What am I doing here?”
I wonder if I’m dreaming.
“I’ve never known you to be at a loss for something to say.” Her expression is soft.
“How did you get back here?”
“Officer Barrett likes you, I guess.” She smiles, and I think I’m going to bawl like a baby. Can’t do that here.
“Cade told me what happened,” she confesses.
“What did he tell you?”
“Everything. From you finding Jackson at Mr. Prescott’s to your run-in at the country club with your boss. Along with both arrests, being hit with a restraining order, and banned from Southview Country Club for ninety days.” She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to hide her smile.
Risk: An Enemies to Lovers, Second Chance Romance Standalone (Brothers of Ink and Steel) Page 26