Love Me Forever

by Lisa Renee Jones

  She hurries our direction and she’s nervous when she joins us. I see that in the twist of her fingers in front of her before she shakes Reese’s hand. “Delaney Wittmore. Or it is now. I’m going to change it back to Adams, soon.”

  “Understandable,” Reese replies. “Sorry to rush this, Delaney,” he adds, “but I have to be in court in an hour.”

  “Of course,” she says. “Thank you for seeing me.”

  Her voice is small, but her will is not or she wouldn’t have lived through the abuse she endured.

  The hostess seats us and I have Delaney sit across from Reese, and it’s not long before we all have steamy cups filled with coffee. I don’t try to direct the meeting, not quite yet. I let Reese and Delaney start things out.

  “I’m interested in your case, Delaney,” Reese says. “but I don’t represent anyone I don’t believe is innocent. Once I believe in you, I’m passionate about winning, as I know Mia is as well. I need to feel the passion she does for your case. I need you to tell me your story in your words.”

  Once she begins to speak, I plan to lead her to my controversial defense that really shouldn’t be controversial at all. Not once the entire story is told.

  “I don’t think there’s a reason for me to tell my story,” Delaney says, which doesn’t surprise me. I know where she’s going: to that honest place that won me over.

  Reese arches a brow. “And why is that?”

  “Because you just said that you don’t represent anyone you don’t believe is innocent. I’m not. I killed my husband.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Mia

  At Delaney’s declaration that she killed her husband, Reese doesn’t so much as blink. He doesn’t look at me, either. He stays focused on Delaney. “Why?” he asks.

  “Does it matter?” Delaney challenges. “I killed him.”

  “Do you want to go to jail?” Reese counters.

  She cuts her stare, swallows hard, and then meets his stare again. “No, but,” her fingers curl into her palms where they rest on the table, “I killed him.”

  Reese doesn’t miss a beat. “Why?”

  “He wouldn’t stop hitting me.”

  I pull a folder out of my briefcase, open it, and slide a photo of her from the night of “the incident” in front of him. In the photo, Delaney’s face is beaten black and blue and her eye is swollen shut. He glances down at it, shows no reaction, and then looks at her. “Tell me more.”

  She swallows hard. “I was—desperate—for him to stop. I reached for anything and I grabbed the fireplace—the metal thing by the fireplace. The fire poker.” She presses two fingers to her temple and then powers through the words. “I hit him. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  “How often did he beat you?” Reese asks.

  “Daily,” she replies.

  “Did he rape you?” Reese asks, getting right to the point.

  “Daily,” she repeats.

  “Why didn’t you leave?” Reese asks next.

  “He threatened anyone and everyone I knew.” She makes a choked sound. “He even threatened the grocery store bakery manager I chat with every day who has three kids. And he had the money to make people dead and not get caught.”

  Reese arches a brow. “Did he tell you that?”

  “Every day for sixteen of our seventeen years together.”

  My chest and eyes pinch just looking into her tormented stare. “Who inherits if you don’t?” I ask, leading her to my strategy for her defense.

  “My daughter,” she replies.

  “Who inherits if your daughter doesn’t inherit?” I ask.

  “His brother.”

  And we’re almost to the sweet spot I’m reaching for. “What’s your relationship with his brother?”

  “He knew everything,” she explains. “He told me I had two choices. Fight back or shut up.”

  “Fight back how?” Reese asks, traveling exactly where I want him to travel.

  “He offered to buy me a gun.”

  Reese’s head tilts slightly. “Are you or have you ever slept with him?”

  “Never.”

  “Are you intimate with him in any way?”

  Her lips flatten. “Never.”

  “Are you friends?” he asks, continuing to press.

  “No,” she says, as she said to me as well.

  “Then how,” Reese says, “did you have a conversation about buying a gun with him?”

  She inhales and exhales. “He saw my bruises. He caught me off guard one day or he wouldn’t have. I had practice. I knew how to hide them.” She gives a choked laugh. “That’s why everyone wants me to do their makeup. I’m good with makeup.” She swallows hard. “He said—he wanted to talk to Mitch.”

  “Did he reject the idea of his brother beating you?” Reese asks.

  She scoffs. “No. He didn’t even blink, but he insisted on talking to Mitch. I begged him not to. He said he would not.”

  “Did he talk to Mitch?” Reese asks.

  “He says he didn’t. I believe he did.”

  “Why?” Reese asks.

  “Because that night I was lectured on keeping our life private.”

  “Lectured or beaten?” Reese asks.

  “He broke my arm,” she states matter-of-factly.

  “The medical records are in the file,” I interject, tapping the folder still in front of him. “There are five separate incidents that required she see a doctor. All of which she called accidents.”

  “Did the brother,” he glances at me and I supply, “Jim,” before he continues with, “Did Jim know about your broken arm?”

  “Yes,” she says. “He told me that he didn’t tell his brother. That he knows Mitch is crazy. He told me to be careful and that Mitch’s first wife had an ‘accident’ and died.”

  “She fell while they were hiking in Colorado,” I interject. “It was investigated and closed quickly, but the interesting thing is that her friends claim she was about to file for divorce.”

  Reese’s lips press together and he glances at his watch and then at Delaney. “I have to go.” He pauses and studies her two long beats before he asks. “Did your husband deserve to die?”

  “It wasn’t about him deserving to die. It was about me deserving to live. And that night it came down to me living or dying. I didn’t make the decision to kill him. I made the decision to live.”

  He studies her for two more beats. “Do you deserve to go to jail?”

  Her lashes lower and then lift. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I feel very confused.”

  He inclines his chin and then says, “I’ll chat with Mia and we’ll set-up another meeting. Do you want me to be involved with your defense?”

  “I do,” Delaney replies.

  “And what do you hope that you’ll get from my involvement?”

  “Mia says you will help her, help me protect my daughter.”

  He considers that answer and then motions to the waitress and it’s not long before Delaney leaves, and thankfully she has security in the lobby that I didn’t know about until her departure.

  She has just exited the restaurant when Reese holds up his phone. “I just got a text. We’re delayed an hour for court.” He motions to the table and we sit back down. “Her story is compelling and so is she. I’m on board if you both want me.”

  “We want you.”

  “Good. Now talk to me frankly. Because I don’t even know why the hell she’s being charged. What am I missing?”

  “Nothing. She’s suffering because the ADA was out to get Grayson and I’m an extension of him. It’s unethical. It’s wrong. I’d like to see him lose his job.” I’m fired up now. “She shouldn’t have been charged at all.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And for her benefit, rather than raising immediate hell over this, I’m hoping your name attached to her case will make this go away.”

  “And if we can’t, what is your defense strategy?”

  “That she was the murder weap
on his brother used to kill him and inherit everything.”

  He arches a brow. “Come again?”

  I lean in closer and lower my voice. “Friends of Mitch’s first wife say Jim is the one that outed her divorce filing, knowing that Mitch was violent. Shortly after Jim did that, Mitch and the first wife went on a ski trip to a family wedding. That was where the accident happened. Mitch was misdiagnosed with cancer at that time. With her gone, Jim thought he was about to inherit.”

  “Jim does stand to inherit.”

  “Not just inherit. Inherit billions, Reese. We’re talking Grayson’s kind of bank account here. It’s worth hiring Walker to investigate, and furthermore, Jim was whispering in Delaney’s ear, scaring her. I believe he got rid of wife number one and when that didn’t work, he needed wife number two to get rid of his brother. He used her as a murder weapon. He killed his brother. It’s at least, reasonable doubt.”

  “It damn sure is,” he says, approval lighting his eyes. “Let’s start by me calling the ADA. If my involvement shuts this down, we celebrate tonight. If not, we look toward a trial and a win.” He pulls out his phone and I listen to him greet the ADA. “Let’s talk about Delaney Wittmore. I’m now on her legal team.”

  He listens a moment and then he says. “We both know she shouldn’t have been charged. I don’t care how many billions she inherits. She earned it.” He grimaces at whatever is said and responds with, “I wonder if you could justify beating your wife, then? Or is it only okay if they get Chanel as an apology?” I don’t know what the ADA says in reply, but Reese grimaces. “He hung up. He’s unreasonable. There’s more to this than you and Grayson. He wants a big win with a big name attached. I’ve seen this syndrome before and it’s rotten. I have an idea, but before I share, I have to talk to Cat.”

  We stand up and he says, “For the record, Jim using her, a battered wife, as a murder weapon to inherit is a brilliant crime by a dangerous man. Furthermore,” he adds, mimicking my earlier speech, “you catching onto it is brilliant lawyering.”

  “It’s only brilliant if it works.”

  “The words of a winning lawyer unwilling to count her chickens until they hatch. I do believe we’re going to be brilliant together.”

  I smile and I appreciate his compliments, but right now, I’m already thinking about how I will actually do that: winning for Delaney. I already have a million plans in my mind. I need to get to the office and start building a case against Jim.

  I motion to Jacob where he sits at the bar and the three of us head outside. We’ve barely stepped out of the building when a tall man with a beard comes out of nowhere and rushes toward me. He’s about ten seconds from grabbing me when Jacob grabs him.

  I scream and Blake is suddenly there, pulling me forward and before I ever make it to the Escalade waiting at the curb, Grayson is out the door and running toward me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Mia

  I’m freaking out when Grayson all but drags me into the Escalade. I’m barely seated and he’s cupping my face and staring down at me. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No. Jacob was fast. I have no idea what that was or who that was. How did he even know I was here?” I lean around him to Reese. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m used to reporters,” he says. “They get crazy.”

  Grayson twists around to look at him. “Was it a reporter? Do we know that?”

  “I recognize him,” Reese confirms. “He is.”

  Jacob climbs into the front seat and turns to face me. “Is everyone okay?”

  “Yes,” I say, and despite Reese’s claim that this man was a reporter, the Dungeon infiltrated our lives. They seem to be everywhere. I need to know if he’s a reporter and one of them. “Tell me that wasn’t the Dungeon,” I say, needing to hear the words that tell me he wasn’t. Needing that part of our lives to really be over.

  The door beside Reese opens and Blake pokes his head in the door. “He’s a reporter who swears he has a big scoop for you, Mia. We got rid of him and I have his card to verify his credentials.”

  “But is he with the Dungeon?” I press, not even considering a scoop for me. I’m not a reporter. That makes no sense.

  “I don’t believe that to be the case,” Blake replies. “We’ll check him out completely.” He eyes Reese. “Make this damn deal with the Feds and get them some peace of mind.”

  “I’m going to call them at my lunch break,” Reese promises, and Blake gives a nod. “All right then. Let me go handle this shit and let you all get Reese to the courthouse.” He shuts the door.

  “I need to move,” Reese calls out to the front, and Smith immediately sets us in motion.

  Reese leans forward to talk to us both. “Know this. The message I got from my conversation with Blake was that he believes the Dungeon threat is gone. He is not a man to make a statement like that lightly. He’s not a false hope kind of guy, but I’ll call you, Grayson, the minute I talk to the Feds. And once you sign an immunity agreement, you can do that interview you talked about with Cat or anyone you wish and shut down the press obsession with your stories.” We’ve already made the walkable ride to the courthouse, which is swarming with protestors.

  “Wonderful,” Reese mumbles irritably. “This case has been a press nightmare.”

  Smith pulls us round to a side entrance, where the press is blocked off, parking right in front of a door for Reese’s ease of escape into the building. Reese reaches for the door but hesitates, just a moment. “Don’t get too happy when your press fade. It won’t last. We’re going to make headlines over Delaney.” He exits the Escalade and shuts the door behind him.

  Grayson arches a brow. “I take it that means you two are officially teaming up?”

  “We are,” I say. “Delaney won him over.”

  “And you had nothing to do with it?”

  “I believe it was all Delaney, but Reese did try and call the ADA and got shut down hard and fast, just like I have.” I frown. “It feels like there is more to this, doesn’t it?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know, but something is bothering me.” I sink back into the seat and start beating up my mind, looking for an answer I can’t quite reach, but it’s there, wishing Grayson and I were alone so we could talk it out but we are not alone.

  Grayson laces his fingers with my fingers. “It’ll come to you,” he says. “I know it will.” He kisses my knuckles. That small little kiss sends goosebumps up my arm and warmth across my chest. This man loves me and when I think of the scandal around Mitch and his money, I’m really reminded of Grayson’s trust issues. And he does have trust issues. Everyone is entranced by his money and power. He keeps a small circle around him. He’s careful about who he lets close to him. He learned from his father to love hard, but to make sure the love is well-deserved and yet he didn’t even want a prenup. He never once considered that I might be in this for his money. I’m so glad his father talked him into the prenup for more than one reason. As his father presented, of course, I want Grayson to know I don’t want his money, but Grayson also needs to know that I won’t stay for the money. The only way to do that is for the prenup to guarantee me money. That I wouldn’t take of course, but that’s not the point.

  This man loves me.

  And I am one lucky woman to have that love, but unlike the past, when I tended to see only my good fortune in this match, I now see his. He can trust me, and I love him passionately, with all my heart. We are lucky. Delaney was not. She was trapped in a diamond and Chanel-decorated prison and I haven’t yet set her free.

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later, we pull up to the Bennett building that is thankfully free of the press. Jacob walks us into the building and ensures I have his cellphone number. “Don’t go anywhere without me.”

  I’m frowning when me and Grayson step onto the elevator. “So we aren’t free of the Dungeon at all, are we?” I ask when the doors shut on us.

  He turns to me, stroking hair
behind my ear, his tenderness something that has always stolen my breath, and now is no different. “You have reporters coming at you left and right, baby. I’ve told them to keep you safe.”

  “Right. Of course. I’m just eager to have this over. I’m fortunate Walker was there when that man came at me. He could have been someone really dangerous.”

  “It’s almost over.”

  Those words play in my mind the rest of the ride up: almost over. We’re almost to the other side of our breakup because all of this is connected. Ri came at us and our relationship. Mitch came at Delaney, I think, shifting gears. Mitch’s brother came at Delaney. I’ll be okay. I have Grayson. Delaney is counting on me, and Reese, now. I have to come through for her.

  We’ve just entered the Bennett executive offices and Eric and Davis are all but tackling Grayson. “We have the Feds’ agreement,” Eric informs him, both men in our path, halting us in the hallway. “We need to tear it apart.”

  Grayson kisses me. “Go solve your mystery. I’m going to go and read through this.”

  “Should I be there?”

  “I can tell you that I know these two men. Two hours from now, it’s not going to look the same. Spare yourself the twenty versions.”

  I’m torn, eager to work on the Delaney case, but nervous about this deal with the Feds. I eye Eric and Davis. “You feel good about it?”

  Davis pipes in. “Cautiously—”

  “Optimistic,” I supply. “Okay, well, I’m getting used to that non-answer.” I turn to Grayson. “I’ll leave you three musketeers to your cautious optimism.” I kiss Grayson’s cheek and head into my office.

  I’ve just sat down when my cellphone rings with a call from my father. “Hey, Dad.”

  “I just wanted to check on you, with all this mess going on. Are you still in the Hamptons with Grayson?”