She smiled at her lover, trying to reinforce the courage he needed to face this moment. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered.
There was no reply, as Alex’s eyes remained riveted on the door where Judge Redburn would enter. No doubt, he was flashing back to the day when he’d been found guilty.
The door opened, Alex took a quick breath, and then the clerk called for those in the courtroom to rise. The onlookers came to their feet, then returned to their seats when the judge took his chair. Redburn looked older than the last time Morgan had seen him, at the hospital. Even though his daughter was expected to recover, the shock had still taken its toll.
The judge looked down at them. “Mr. Parkin.”
Alex, to his credit, kept his voice free of panic. “Good day, Your Honor.”
Redburn addressed the courtroom. “The case before us today is to determine whether there is sufficient cause to overturn the conviction of Alexander Michael Parkin for possession of a Schedule Two narcotic. To that end, both this court and the district attorney’s office have reviewed the new evidence.” He consulted a sheet. “Mr. Douglas?”
The man rose. “Your Honor. Our office has worked in conjunction with the Drug Enforcement Administration and local law enforcement to review the documentation that was compiled by the late Special Agent Dennis Simms.”
“And your conclusion?”
“We have verified every claim in this rather . . . impressive collection of information, and we have come to the conclusion that the cocaine that resulted in Mr. Parkin’s conviction was indeed planted by Agent Simms. Further documentation was provided in the form of audio recordings of conversations between Simms and Vladimir Buryshkin, also deceased, wherein the agent was ordered to frame Mr. Parkin. It appears that Mr. Parkin was close to busting a new drug-running operation that Buryshkin had established in Baton Rouge, and they wanted him out of the way.”
“Does your office have any objection to vacating the conviction?”
Alex gripped the edge of the table, his hands shaking now.
Douglas looked at him. “None whatsoever.”
“Then it is the opinion of this court that a miscarriage of justice occurred when the jury, acting on the information they were provided, found Mr. Parkin guilty of this crime. This court vacates that verdict, rendering it null and void, thereby restoring Mr. Parkin’s full rights of citizenship.”
Redburn leaned forward on his elbows, looking directly at Alex now. “If you were any other man, I would caution you against feeling bitter about what has happened to you, because we both know those years in prison cannot be returned to you. However, your recent actions have shown that you have found yourself on solid ground, and I expect that your future actions will prove this court’s decision to be a wise one.” He banged his gavel. “Now get out of here, and go have a life.”
“Yes!” Alex shouted, pumping his fist. He spun around and grabbed Morgan, squeezing her in a tight embrace.
“Plan on celebrating tonight, lady,” he said in her ear. “All night long.”
“You’re on.”
He’d barely made it outside the courtroom when he was mobbed by his sister and his friends. Tucker slapped his back hard, while Miri cried.
Thank you, Dennis. Rest in peace, guy.
Morgan noticed his expression. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“You ready to party, Parkin?” Tucker called out.
“Bring it on, dude. Bring. It. On.”
Chapter Thirty
The interior of the bar was crowded and raucous, and though this was where Miri had been attacked, she had insisted that it was where they needed to go. She said it was her way of dealing with the memories.
The Veritas crew commandeered a table in the back corner, away from the speakers and the band. The first round of drinks came courtesy of Crispin, and it went on from there. There were jokes, dancing, and then more drinking. It was like a family celebration.
He trusted these people, and they trusted him. It was more than he’d ever expected just out of prison: a good job, good friends, and a woman to love. Whenever he thought about it, his chest tightened and his eyes grew misty.
He was on his second beer and eyeing Morgan, who had stripped off her fancy suit jacket, the fine silk of her blouse caressing her breasts. The sight made him wonder how soon he could spirit her away to begin that night of one-on-one celebration. Because now, he was truly free.
She must have caught the “I want you” glint in his eyes, as she leaned over and whispered, “Meet me in the supply closet in five, okay? It’s near the restrooms.”
“Ah. Okay.”
He had no idea what she had in mind, but watched as she made her way through the other patrons, toward the ladies’ room, her shirt moving across her butt in a way that made other guys check her out. One whistled.
Too late. She’s mine.
Tucker moved over next to him. “Fine lady you got there. Pretty, smart, and tough. That’s a helluva combo.”
“She’s a keeper.” Alex thought for a moment. “You any good at adding ink to prison tattoos?”
His friend raised an eyebrow. “You got one?”
“Yeah. A blackwork phoenix on my leg. It just doesn’t match my life any longer. Needs some color, you know?”
Tucker’s eyes followed his, settling on Morgan as she disappeared down the hallway.
“Understood. What colors are you thinking?”
Alex already had that worked out. “Red for passion, yellow for the sun, blue for the water, and green for . . . my Morgan’s eyes.”
“Stick a fork in you, you are so done, my friend,” Tucker said, laughing. “Just call and make an appointment. It’s on the house.”
“Damn, you’re gonna make me wail like a baby if you keep that crap up.”
“You are such a wuss,” Tucker said, grinning. “Good to have you home, my friend.”
“Good to have a life again.”
A couple of minutes later, Alex followed in Morgan’s wake, skirting around his sister, who was dancing with Sam. She was laughing and having fun, though the guy was probably at least a decade older than her.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alex caught a glimpse of Neil. The Iceman watched her with more interest than was required, now that the threat was gone. Alex paused by him for a second, feeling the need to play Cupid.
“You know, you could ask her to dance, and I wouldn’t rip your heart out for it.”
Neil looked up, then shook his head. “Best not to.”
“Your choice. Great girl. I know she can hold her own with you.”
The barest hint of a smile came to Neil’s lips. “No doubt about that. That’s why it’s not a good idea.”
“Your loss.”
After a quick trip to the men’s room, Alex located the supply closet. Hoping no one saw him, he ducked inside. The light was on, and at the back of the small space was Morgan, her silk blouse partially unbuttoned to reveal her glorious cleavage.
“Lock the door,” she said, her voice husky and full of promise.
He fumbled behind him to see if there was a lock. To his surprise, there was a slide bar, and he pushed it across. There were fresh wood shavings where the lock had been installed, which made him wonder if Morgan had had something to do with it.
She beckoned to him with her finger. As he walked toward her, his body screamed that this was his woman, and he wanted her now.
“Hi. My name is Morgan,” she said in a low whisper.
“And what’s a hot lady named Morgan doing in a supply closet?”
“A couple things,” she said, pulling him closer so he could smell her perfume, and her desire. “First thing? I’m an idiot.”
“That’s kind of harsh.”
“No. I’m an idiot. I spent five years blaming myself for something my husband did. I blamed him for being weak.”
“And now?”
“Now I know that we’re all weak in one way or anoth
er. It all depends on whether we let those mistakes destroy us, or make us stronger.”
“What’s the verdict?”
“That I’m stronger when I’m with you. That you make me feel alive, and I want that for as long as I can have it.”
“I concur. What’s the other thing? You said there were a couple.”
She undid the remaining buttons on her silk shirt, revealing a black lace bra, her nipples straining against the fabric. His mouth went dry.
“I’ve always wanted to have scorching sex with a hot guy in a place like this. You game, Parkin?”
His mind reeled as his blood heated. What the hell had he done to deserve such an amazingly sexy woman? “Hot, fast, and hard?”
“You got it. We can do slow, sensual, and sultry later.”
“Definitely sensual and sultry later. But right now . . . ”
He skimmed his hands across her breasts, rubbing hard across the beaded nipples, and then down her thighs. He pressed his burgeoning erection against the sweet spot between her thighs.
His hands reached under her skirt and only found soft skin. Her panties were gone.
“Jesus, Morgan. Do you know what you do to me?”
“I suspect I’m about to find out,” she said, undoing his belt, then pulling down the zipper. The pants fell to his knees.
Pulling her up against him, he felt the warm wetness that told him she was ready for him. “You’re going to kill me one of these days.”
“Not yet, baby. Not yet.”
She tugged down his briefs and then he was home, driving inside her with a power that he never knew he possessed. Every stroke made her moan, her nails digging through his shirt.
Her long legs lifted to wrap around his waist.
“Harder,” she cried. He shifted so every stroke rubbed against just the right spot. She sucked in air, shaking in his arms, then screamed as an orgasm surged through her, the sound lost in the noise of the bar and the band.
Her muscles tightened around him, pushing him higher, then kicking him over the edge. Alex cried out her name as his release tore through him, lifting him so high he didn’t know if he could ever find his way down.
Even after he stopped moving, she was still moaning, rubbing against him. He knew what she wanted, and a few more thrusts brought her another body-shaking orgasm. Finally, she slumped against him. He remained inside her, not ever wanting to leave.
“Jesus, Alex. You’re going to kill me one of these days.”
He laughed as his own words came back to him.
“Let’s test that theory, okay? Give it a few years. Decades. See how it goes. You game?”
Her eyes rose to his, and he could tell the instant she realized what he’d just suggested. “Decades, huh?” she asked. He nodded. “Yeah, I’m game. Because who else is going to keep you alive and happy?”
“No one, baby. No one but you.”
“Then let’s do it. You and me,” she said, touching his face.
“I love you, Morgan. I love you so much.”
“And I love you more than I ever thought possible. That frightens me. But it exhilarates me more.”
He kissed her, feeling the bonds tightening between them, the ones growing stronger with each passing day.
“We better go. Someone will miss us.”
“Come back here exactly a year from now?” she asked.
He laughed as they straightened their clothes. Morgan pulled her black panties out of her purse and slid them on, and he groaned at the sight.
“You got it. Every year, right here. Or the nearest bar, wherever we might be. Until, well, until we can’t do it anymore.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen,” she joked.
“Well, maybe when I’m ninety.”
“They have pills for that kind of thing,” she said, winking.
“God, what have I gotten myself into?”
Morgan laughed and opened the door. As they walked out, Miri strolled by them on her way to the restroom. She looked at the pair of them, taking in their “I just got laid” expressions and the open supply-closet door behind them.
She grinned. “You are so busted, bro,” she said.
“I will never hear the end of this,” he moaned.
“But it was worth it, right?” Morgan asked.
“With you, lady?” he said. “Always.”
His sister took hold of Morgan’s arm. “Walk me to the restroom, will you? We need some girl time together.”
He knew in an instant that it was because of her attack, how she’d been grabbed in this very hallway. Now she was confronting those fears with typical Parkin chutzpah.
“Sure,” Morgan said, understanding as well.
They slid their arms around each other’s waists and walked away. Watching them, Alex knew he was truly one blessed man. He’d gotten a second chance at life.
When he returned to the bar he found more than a few envious eyes on him. Crispin raised eyebrow, but kept his expression neutral.
“Get lost, Parkin?” Lars said, grinning. Neil smirked, but held his tongue.
“Not a chance,” he said, shaking his head.
I’ll never be lost with Morgan at my side.
Epilogue
October 10th
New Orleans
The doorbell pulled Miri from her breakfast. Shanita looked up, but didn’t move, still half-asleep. That was one of the best things about having her as a roommate now—she wasn’t a morning person, so she didn’t talk much.
Since Alex had gone all older brother on her and insisted Miri find a safe place to live, she’d finally allowed him to lend her enough money to move in with her friend. With her new job at a classier bar, she was on her way to paying him back for the loan. Win-win for everyone.
The lady on their doorstep wasn’t someone Miri knew. Still skittish after everything that had happened the previous month, she tensed, wondering if the Russians weren’t finished with her yet. Then wondering how long it would be before she’d stop worrying about that.
“Are you Miri Parkin?” the woman asked, consulting a sheet in her hand. She was middle-aged, tanned, and sounded like a two-packs-a-day smoker.
“Yes, I am,” Miri said.
“Cool. I got a delivery for you.” The woman gestured at the pet carrier near her feet.
Shanita shuffled up in her bathrobe, stifling a yawn behind her palm. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Ah, a delivery.” Miri looked down at the carrier. “What’s in there?” A plaintive meeeoow came from inside the carrier, answering her question.
“It’s a kitten,” the lady said, as if that wasn’t obvious now. “He’s seven weeks old, and he’s had all his shots. Here’s his paperwork.” She slapped a fat envelope into Miri’s hand.
“Ah, but—”
“Must be a birthday gift,” Shanita piped up.
It was her birthday, but . . . “I can’t have a cat. Can I?”
“They’re cool by me, and the landlord doesn’t have a problem with them. We’ll just need to pay a pet deposit.”
Her friend didn’t seem the least bit surprised by all this.
“You did this?” Miri asked, eyeing her. Shanita shook her head. “Alex?” Another shake of her head, but her broad smile told Miri that she knew who had.
Confused, Miri took the pet carrier, because there was no other choice. It was a kitten, for God’s sake. No way could she turn one of those cuties away.
“If you need anything, just call the number in the paperwork. Congratulations!”
The pet-delivery lady left Miri standing in her own doorway, wondering what the hell had just happened. As she dream-walked her way back into the apartment, she saw a huge grin on her roommate’s face.
If it wasn’t her roommate or Alex . . .
Miri set the container on the counter and opened it. A small white, black, and gray kitten stuck his nose out. He had brilliant blue eyes and elegant, long, black whiskers.
“Oh my God, he’
s beautiful!”
“He’s like your other cat,” Shanita said. “He’s got too many toes.”
A polydactyl.
Her friend waved an envelope under her nose. Miri snatched it away and tore it open. It took some time for her to decipher the unfamiliar scrawl.
Miri,
This kitten needs someone to love him.
Happy Birthday,
Neil (Iceman) MacFayden
Miri’s eyes misted. Neil had remembered her birthday. Of course he had. That man never forgot anything. She scooped up the bundle of soft fur and hugged the squirming creature as if he was the last kitten in the whole world.
“You knew Neil was doing this,” she accused.
“Yeah,” Shanita admitted. “Your SEAL dude came by a few days ago to see if we could have a cat. He told me what he was up to, and I thought it was just so sweet.”
Miri snuggled the little animal, so stunned by Neil’s kindness she didn’t know how to handle it. It just wasn’t something she’d ever thought he’d do for her, especially since he’d avoided any contact with her since the Russian mission.
Then, kitten ownership responsibilities flooded her brain. “Oh, I have to get cat things and food. It all burned in the house fire.”
“No worries. All that stuff is under my bed. He delivered it when you were at work. That’s some hunk you got there, my friend.”
I wish he was mine. But at least I have a small piece of him now.
Shanita stroked the kitten’s head. “So what are you going to call this little guy?”
Miri eyed the note on the counter and smiled. “MacFayden. Mac for short.”
Because Neil finally told me his last name.
“Happy birthday, girlfriend.” Shanita gave her a quick hug and left her alone with their newest roommate.
“Hey, Mac,” she murmured. The kitten looked up at her, batting at her hair with a paw. A throaty purr erupted, causing Miri’s tears to fall. “Yeah, you need some love. We all need do.”
Even those too proud to admit it.
THE END
Thank You!
Thanks for reading Cat’s Paw. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it.
Cat's Paw (Veritas Book 1) Page 32