“Stop,” she said, a nervous laugh. “I’m sure whatever it is will turn out fine. Plus, just announcing that you were going to kill someone already makes me at least a witness, and possible partially culpable if I don’t step in. Now I’m ethically, maybe even legally, obligated to not leave you alone.”
Dallas realized suddenly how fast he was driving and reduced his speed, moving over to the right-hand lane and getting ready to take the next exit. It didn’t lead anywhere in particular. He had no destination in mind, but he wanted the option to pull over if he needed to, if his hands began to shake, if the sweat started to gather on his forehead.
“Who’s not getting the new trial?” she asked, her words so cautious he felt bad for probably scaring her. Though Harlan didn’t seem to frighten easily.
“A friend,” Dallas replied, pulling in to the parking lot of a burger joint and slamming the car into park.
“New evidence, inadequate representation, jury tampering?” Harlan shifted in her seat so she could see him better, but the extra attention made him more rigid in his responses.
“How do you know so much about it?”
“I was going to be a lawyer when I grew up,” she said, that breathy sigh of defeat back in her voice. “The problem is I grew up too fast and missed my chance. But I’ve always loved the law. The control of it. The black and white of it all. There is right. There is wrong.”
“That’s bullshit,” he said, angry that he’d cursed in front of a client. “Sorry, I just mean it’s not true. There are loopholes and laws to protect the criminals. You leave your fate to twelve strangers and hope they can tell the difference between liars and good men. They can’t.”
“The laws are to protect all of us,” she challenged. “If you were innocent and charged with a crime, those laws could free you.”
“They aren’t freeing him,” Dallas said, slamming his fist against the steering wheel. “He deserves a new trial. The investigation was botched; his lawyer was a disaster.”
“Who is he?”
“I’m not getting in to it right now. Especially with you. You’re a client, not my therapist.”
“You have a therapist?” she asked, her lips lifting into a tiny smile.
“Hypothetical therapist. If I had one, you would not be it. You wouldn’t be my lawyer either.”
“Who is he?” she asked again, and he could feel her eyes on him as he stared out at the flashing burger sign in front of him.
“Tim Andrews,” Dallas said, a vice tightening around his stomach as he said his good friend’s name.
“And what exactly did he do?” Harlan sounded tentative, as if the tightness in his jaw or the bear-trap grip he had on the steering wheel let her know she better tread lightly.
“He didn’t do anything. He’s innocent.”
“Right,” she said gently. “So what was he convicted of?”
“Maybe you would have made a good lawyer.” He looked down at his phone and thought the next call he got from Melissa might bring even worse news. “He was convicted of murder. But it wasn’t him. Tim wouldn’t hurt a fly. That’s not who he is. The problem was he figured if he was innocent he wouldn’t go to jail. He took a court appointed lawyer and assumed because truth was on his side he’d be fine.”
“Oh,” she said, drawing in a rigid breath, clearly not prepared for his blunt truth. But who was? He certainly hadn’t been prepared the night he got the call that Tim had been arrested for murder.
Dallas had been running. Not literally, but he knew what his life had turned into. As a cop the caseload was big, and he never took a break. It was all about filling the day so you didn’t have to feel the pain with each new case. It hadn’t worked. There was no real escaping when you’re running from your own mind.
“I’m sorry,” Harlan whispered. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
“I’ll drop you off at your house. There’s ample security there.”
“You shouldn’t be alone,” she said, urgency in her voice. “I’m not sure who you were planning on killing or how it would help the situation, but it’s not worth it. Plus I’m starving. Maybe we can get a burger.” Gesturing over at the burger joint, she smiled.
“I could eat,” he shrugged, the gears in his brain sparking and burning from the thoughts spinning through them. Maybe a greasy burger would help. Not to mention if he dropped Harlan off right now, driving away alone, there wouldn’t be anything stopping him from doing something incredibly stupid.
Chapter 4
“This is not a burger,” Harlan commented, staring down at half a cow sitting on a giant bun resting on a mountain of fries. “This could feed a small country.”
“You told me to order for you,” Dallas said, cracking a smile for the first time since his phone had rung with the bad news.
“And you assumed this caloric monstrosity would be what I normally eat?”
“No,” he admitted coyly. “I just wanted to see your face when it hit the table. Totally worth it.”
“Glad you’re in a better mood,” she said, making her first attempt at getting her hands around the burger. “Should I cut this in half? That knife won’t work. Do you have a Samari sword?”
“Not on me,” Dallas said, mockingly patting his front pocket. “Come on, just pick it up and eat it.”
“Switch with me,” she pouted looking at his average size burger and moderate amount of French fries. “I’m not going to eat this. I’ll just sit here and complain.”
“Fine,” he said swapping the plates. “I’m not afraid of it. Plus I’m sure you’re used to getting your way. I’d hate to interfere with that.”
“Ha.” She laughed loud enough for a few other people in the place to turn toward them. “I’m used to getting my way? That’s ridiculous.”
“Come on,” he scoffed. “I know how wealthy the Kalling family is. Your one brother is in Texas making a fortune on oil. Emmitt might not be flashy with his money, but I know he’s got plenty.”
“Money doesn’t make your life perfect,” Harlan argued, feeling annoyed that she had to defend how shitty things could be even when you were rich. “You were watching tonight, right? You saw my blind date turned out to be a kid who grew up down the street from us. Or I should say he’s still growing up. That was mortifying. Made worse only by the fact that my ex-husband witnessed it all.”
“He’s a real gem, huh?”
“I’m supposed to realize by now he won’t turn back into the man he once was, and we can’t just pick up where we left off. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. But Rylie might be too far gone to let back in my life; he might not ever be the father I dreamed he would be to our girls. Money can’t fix that.”
“He’s been following you for a while,” Dallas explained, taking the steak knife and trying to slice the burger in half. “You don’t make it very hard. You should vary your schedule, do some unpredictable things that keep him guessing.”
“Tonight was spontaneous,” she argued, thinking about how far off the rails it had all gone. If she’d been given a hundred guesses of where she’d be right now, who she’d be with, she never would have said she’d be with a hot stranger at a burger joint in the middle of nowhere. A man who wasn’t her blind date in the first place.
“He’s persistent. It might be time to file a restraining order against him.” Dallas took another attempt at cutting the burger from the other side.
“He hasn’t hurt me or even threatened to hurt me. Not overtly. At best I could petition for a harassment prevention order.”
“If you do, you might have to give up the hope that you can get back together,” Dallas said in a leading, almost arrogant tone. “It’s hard to come back from that. Kind of makes it official.”
“I don’t need the judgment. I get enough of that from my family. Excuse me for holding out a little bit of hope that the plans I made for the rest of my life might actually come together. Sorry I hope I might be able to salvage some part of all the
dreams I once had.”
“No one gets that,” Dallas said, a stormy look in his eyes. “There is no happy ending. There is no dream come true. Stop imagining what your life is supposed to be and start living the one you have. If you don’t want him following you around then file the paperwork. Hold him accountable. Move on.”
“You were ready to murder a man tonight. I’m the one who needs to move on? Are you living the life you have or are you fighting old battles?”
“Noted,” Dallas sighed.
“How can you even say your friend is innocent? There is nothing in life that is so irrefutably true that it can’t blow up in your face. No one is infallible. People snap, they change, they let you down. I’m sure you think you know he’s innocent—”
“He didn’t do it.”
“I’m saying I’m sure you believe that, maybe you’re even right, but it doesn’t change the fact that anyone can fail you, anyone can do the unthinkable under the right circumstances.”
“You’re jaded,” Dallas said, his brows knit together with worry. “I know Tim better than I know myself. He was the best of us, the heart of our group of friends. I know he’s innocent.”
“I kind of miss what it feels like to believe in something so fiercely. I miss trusting in people like that.”
“It’s not all or nothing. Some people break your trust, some people stab you in the back, but there are others you just know you can count on. Tim is one of those guys. Get yourself some people like that and you’ll be all right. But for now we just eat our troubles away,” Dallas said, lifting the giant burger up and comically taking a huge bite.
“You’re going to choke to death.” Harlan laughed. “You look like a fool.”
“A satisfied fool,” he said, his elbows propped on the table as he readied for another bite.
“Tell me about the case,” she said, her face falling serious. “Why don’t they think he’ll be granted the new trial?”
“It’s just Melissa’s speculation at this point. She knows the judge and how he normally rules in these cases.”
“Is she a competent defense attorney?” Harlan asked, trying not to pry too much.
“She’s great. I found her through the Innocence Project, and she’s working for next to nothing right now because she believes Tim deserves a new trial based on inadequate representation. His court-appointed attorney was diagnosed with a degenerative disease three years before Tim’s case and his health was failing. Melissa lined up testimony from other lawyers who worked with him and even found evidence and leads that weren’t followed up.”
“When is the hearing?”
“It started today and most of the witnesses testified. She expects a ruling tomorrow,” Dallas said, clearing his throat uneasily. “Melissa says even if this doesn’t work there might be more she can do. But I can hear it in her voice. This is what Tim needs to get out.”
“Likely he’d only get a new trial, not any kind of acquittal. It’s not as though he’ll walk out of prison tomorrow.” Harlan was trying to be gentle but blunt. False hope didn’t help anyone in these kinds of situations.
Dallas shook his head as though he knew this to be true but wasn’t willing to accept it. “It could be the start of something. The tide’s finally turning. If she can get him a new trial, we can prove he’s innocent.”
“How?”
“The investigation was pathetic. They had complete tunnel vision. Tim was the easiest suspect, so they didn’t follow any other leads. I have ways of closing those gaps. I’ve outlined where the investigation could go from here. We don’t have the funds to run it independently.”
“Is this why you aren’t a police officer anymore?” Harlan asked, giving him the grace of staring at her French fries while he answered.
“You’re quick,” Dallas complimented, looking half impressed/half annoyed by her astute deduction of the situation.
“The crime and investigation weren’t in my jurisdiction. I was vocal, and I didn’t pull any punches. When I crossed a few too many lines, my captain told me to back off, mind my own cases, or leave my gun and badge. It was an easy answer for me. A piece of metal and a weapon don’t make you a cop. Those guys who arrested and tried to incriminate Tim give the force a bad name.”
“I hope he gets the ruling you’re hoping for,” Harlan whispered. “I hope it turns out well for you. But who exactly were you going to go kill tonight?”
“There’s a guy,” Dallas explained, then stopped abruptly. “It doesn’t really matter, but he was a witness in the case who lied on the stand. Larry Monroe. Nothing would make me happier than watching that guy suffer.”
“I’m sorry you’re dealing with all of this,” she sighed, leaning back in the booth, aware of the pain weighing him down. “I wish there was something more I could do. This is not how I imagined this night would turn out. I’m sure you could say the same.”
“How did you imagine it?” he asked, eyeing her seductively, the air around them changing, electrifying suddenly.
“I just needed something good to happen. I needed someone to look at me in that way, well you know, it’s just been a long time. I thought by this time of night maybe I’d be . . .” her words trailed off as she grew red with embarrassment.
Suddenly their eyes locked, the longing for physical touch grew bigger than any words she could string together. Harlan had come out tonight needing. Needing to feel good, to feel better, to have something just for herself. “. . . you know.”
“Check, please,” Dallas announced, his eyes never leaving Harlan’s as a fierce hunger spread across his face. Standing, he pulled her up and fished some cash out of his pocket.
“That’s too much for the bill,” Harlan said, watching him throw down a couple twenties.
“It’s the waitress’s lucky night,” he winked.
“Maybe she’s not the only one,” Harlan laughed as they sprinted out toward the car, her body pulsing with the anticipation of his touch. Her head whirled with the excitement of it all. It had been so long since she’d felt this way, since she’d been on the verge of something unplanned and exciting. Something that might actually, at least for a little while, turn out right.
“This is a terrible idea,” she cautioned as they slipped into the car and he fired up the engine.
“Absolutely,” he agreed, his large hand coming down on her thigh and sliding up high enough for his fingers to tantalize her throbbing need. “Should I drop you off at home?”
“No,” she said through broken breath as his fingers fluttered faster. “But where?”
“My place,” he asserted, and the power in his voice made her pray wherever it was they’d get there fast. She was a volcano that someone had foolishly tried to cap and contain. Tonight, in his powerful arms, she’d erupt just as the cosmos had intended. Tonight she’d remember the piece of her she’d tucked away and forgotten for too long. And then that would be enough. Harlan would take this spontaneous wild ride and then return to her life just as it was. One night with Dallas would be enough.
“Hold on tight,” he announced as he sped down the dark road and plowed forward with ferocious determination. “It’s going to be a wild ride.”
Chapter 5
Harlan had ignored the worry in her gut about how many women Dallas had brought to his small loft at the top of an old mill. The mill itself appeared in the process of being converted to condos and basically deserted; none of the other apartments looked finished. And calling his finished was a stretch.
They hadn’t made it halfway up the stairs before his lips were bearing down on hers, and he practically carried her the rest of the way.
“I need a drink,” she announced as they pushed their way through his heavy metal door and practically tumbled into the sparsely furnished apartment.
“Some liquid courage?” he laughed as he pressed her body against the closest wall and ground his hardness into her.
“I, I’m . . .” she stuttered, “out of practice.” She wi
nced at how stupid that sounded. “I’ve only ever been with Rylie.” The admission would probably fall in the over-sharing category but in case this night ended up disastrous, she wanted to lay some groundwork for an excuse.
“Shit,” he breathed out a low animalistic moan. “You didn’t mean that to sound hot, but fuck, that’s hot.”
His lips came crashing down on her neck, sucking the skin nearly to the point of pain, but it sent passionate shockwaves through her. “A drink,” she begged. “Something strong.”
Dallas broke free reluctantly but scooped her from her feet. Effortlessly he carried her toward the corner of the room and placed her on the large unmade bed.
“Stay,” he ordered, and she felt her body shiver with excitement. “One drink, then you’re mine.”
“Deal,” she whispered, fighting back the tiny voice in her head that normally kept her from taking these kinds of risks.
The deal, however, was short-lived. The ring of her cell phone was the equivalent of a fire hose used to put out a match.
“Hello,” she said, catching her breath and clearing her throat.
“Anna thinks she might throw up,” Krissy said, her words running together. “I gave her too much junk. It was the ice cream sundae that put her over the top.”
“Where is she now?” Harlan asked, and Dallas shot up, looking troubled.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, reaching for his coat. “Do we need to go?”
“Have her lie down on her side and try to sleep. If she keeps complaining that her stomach hurts, there’s something in the medicine cabinet to settle it. I’ll text you the name and her dose.”
“I’m so sorry,” Krissy offered, sounding like she’d never forgive herself. “I was trying to be the cool babysitter.”
“She won’t throw up,” Harlan assured. “If she was going to she would have by now. You’d be amazed how much junk a little tummy can handle. One time at the fair she won a corn dog eating contest against grown men.”
Loyal Hearts (The Barrington Billionaires Book 4) Page 3