Not Broken (Firebacks Book 2)

by Linda Verji

  The courtroom erupted into cheers after that rousing monologue.

  “Quiet.” Judge Ramsey barked and immediately the room went silent.

  Tasha was suspended in disbelief as horror curled up in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t believe the story this woman was spinning. Kian had told her that Hanna was cold but she wasn’t expecting Antarctica.

  Half truths and lies rolled off her tongue so smoothly, it was easy to believe that they were gospel truths. Tasha could only see the back of Polo’s head, but from the lolling position he had taken on his seat, she knew he was gloating.

  Scott spoke, “Your honor, the defense is spinning facts to make her client look innocent. We have police reports showing that Mr. Nelson attacked Mrs. Nelson’s sister…”

  “…who is not on the witness list to add credence to those claims,” Hanna butted in.

  “He also repeatedly fired shots at his wife…”

  “…after she shot at him first.” Hanna snorted.

  “Ms. Clayton, despite, your colorful and energetic defense…” the judge interrupted their verbal spurring, “…the fact still remains that the evidence brought before the court is disturbing enough to warrant a hearing. Motion denied.”

  You could practically hear the court groan in disappointment.

  Hanna spoke up again, “In that case I’d like to file a motion asking the court to revoke the restraining order against my client. It’s keeping him away from his children, one of whom is sick while the other is of no relation to Mrs. Nelson.”

  “Your honor,” Scott frowned, “Mr. Nelson is a danger to both his soon to be ex-wife and children.”

  “There is no evidence that he has abused his children in any way, even by your clients own admission,” Hanna stated blandly.

  The judge pursed her lips then seemed to come to a decision.

  “I’ll consider the matter and make a judgment tomorrow.” She said. When Scott started to protest, Judge Ramsey raised her hand to stop him from speaking. “I’d like to hear testimony other than Mrs. Nelson’s showing him to be a dangerous man before I deny a father of his children.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” Scott said grumpily. Hanna’s face was practically dripping of smug victory.

  Judge Ramsey sifted through the papers on her bench reading through them. “Bring this Jaslene Walker to my chambers tomorrow.”

  “We were hoping to keep her out of this case, Your Honor.” Scott said.

  Judge Ramsey raised an eyebrow fractionally, “If you want this restraining order to stick, you’ll get her here at ten a.m. tomorrow.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Is the defense ready to present its first witness?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” Hanna nodded. Her lips widened into a grin as she announced, “The defense would like to call Rashad Benet to the stand.”

  Tasha turned, her eyes widening in horror and her heart only singing one tune. No! No! No! It can’t be him.

  But it was. Rashad walked to the stand.

  *

  Kian was livid with anger.

  Not because of the way Hanna had massacred Tasha on the witness stand or the way she’d made him look like a fool lapping at a married woman’s heels. No, he’d expected that. She was just being Hanna, the barracuda, who sole mission was to destroy people’s lives.

  He was angry at Tasha. How could she?

  “You were planning to leave the country?” he asked as he paced the length of Scott’s office. Tasha, who was seated on one of the seats opposite the huge desk, kept her head lowered and didn’t answer.

  “Were you ever planning on telling me?” No wonder she’d been so distant lately. She was getting ready to run.

  “Why didn’t you let us know?” Scott’s voice was less accusing.

  Her gaze on her lap, Tasha answered, “I didn’t think it was an issue.”

  “Everything’s an issue in these cases,” Scott said, “especially when you’re dealing with Hanna Clayton.”

  Even angry as he was with Tasha, Kian couldn’t help feeling a thread of protectiveness for her. Rashad’s testimony about his providing Tasha with passports had been damning to say the least. Kian knew Tasha had to be feeling acute disappointment about the part she’d played in practically sabotaging the case. Pausing in his pacing, he asked Scott, “Is there anything we can do to stop her from spinning the case?”

  “Hanna has made both of you out to be unreliable witnesses.” Scott stated the obvious. His gaze took on a measuring gaze as he said, “I know you didn’t want this, but Jaslene will have to testify.”

  Tasha jumped in. “We can’t make her do this.”

  “We have no other options.” Scott responded. “It’s either her or the restraining order will be revoked. During the trial we want the restraining order firmly in place to help demonstrate that Polo is acknowledged by the state as dangerous.”

  “I don’t think I can do this,” Tasha said while looking at Kian.

  There was genuine pain in her eyes as she struggled with the idea of getting Jaslene to testify. Bringing Jaslene in would mean exposing her to the public’s eye as Polo’s accuser. With a good number of New Yorkers on Polo’s side it would mean that Jaslene would have to live with their hatred for accusing their beloved hero for a long time.

  Kian asked, “Isn’t there anything else?”

  Scott shook his head. “You’ll just have to get her to the courthouse tomorrow.”

  Once they were done with Scott, Kian led Tasha out of the courthouse building and to the parking lot. He was still pissed off but he didn’t want to bring it up now, especially with what she’d gone through with Hanna and Scott today.

  However he also couldn’t pretend that nothing was wrong, so he opened the car door for her silently. Within minutes, he’d started the car and they were on their way home. The car ride was silent for a while until she said, “Are you angry with me?”

  Was she asking herself that or him? They both knew that he was angry and the reason why. Silently he drove. From the side of his eye, he saw her turn her face to stare outside the window, as if for her the conversations was over. Not even an apology? Hell no! Kian pulled over to the side of the road.

  “Why are we stopping?” Tasha asked mildly, but the slight tremble in her voice said she wasn’t as calm as she was pretending.

  “I can’t believe you,” Kian said each word precisely, struggling to keep himself from shouting at her. “You’ve been keeping this from me all this time while I’m up here trying to start a relationship with you.”

  “I told you we were just friends.”

  “Bullshit!” he cussed and she flinched with the vehemence in that word. He said, “‘Just friends’ don’t kiss the way we do and ‘just friends’ definitely don’t share as much as we have.”

  He laughed without amusement and his fingers clasped tightly to the steering wheel. “Every day I’ve stood by you it was because I care for you more than a friend, actually more than I’ve ever cared for anyone else. For fuck’s sake I told you I loved you. And what do I get in return? You don’t even trust me enough to let me know that you’ve got passports and money on the ready to make a run.”

  She was treating him like some stranger who’d just forced himself into her life. He’d been there for her, shared more of his past with her then he’d even shared with Rafe, offered to take care of her. Was it too much to ask that she trust him? Silence stretched in the plush interiors of her car as the impact of his words reverberated between them.

  “Kian, I trust you,” she finally said as she reached across the seat to touch his arm but he shrugged off her arm.

  “You say you do, but you don’t.” He shook his head. “The only person you trust is yourself.”

  “Is this your way of saying you’re tired of me?” Tasha said.

  Maybe it was the frustration from being grilled in court today speaking for Tasha but Kian couldn’t understand how her mind could jump from him telling her she didn’t tr
ust him to assuming that that meant he wanted out. He said, “That’s not what I said.”

  “That’s what I heard.” Her expression was closed and her eyes were screened.

  Kian shook his head and restarted the car again slipping onto the road behind a green Camri. The unspoken frustration still swirled inside him. He knew that the tight rein she kept on her secrets and her independence was a direct result of living with Polo. But for how long was he willing to put up with being punished for another man’s sins?

  In a matter of minutes they were at her apartment. Without speaking, she unbuckled her seatbelt, stepped out of the car and shut the door softly before walking away. Kian considered following her but changed his mind. They both needed space to cool off.

  Restarting the car, he drove off.

  *

  The house was silent as a tomb as her family lay in their rooms, sleeping peacefully unaware of the storm that was raging outside their walls. Tasha lay on her bed, staring up at the shadows hidden by her bedroom’s darkness as tears seeped down the corners of her eyes.

  Nothing was going as planned. They were about to lose the case and Polo was going to walk away. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d come for them and now she didn’t even have the option of running. This was all her fault.

  If she hadn’t hired Rashad. If she hadn’t run from Polo. If she hadn’t allowed Kian into her life…if, if, if. The result was the same each time – none of this would’ve happened. Now even Jaslene had been dragged into the case. Maybe if she dropped the case it would ease Polo’s anger.

  The vibrations of her phone on the bedside table broke into the silence. Wiping her face and clearing her throats to mask any signs that she’d been crying, Tasha picked it up. She frowned at the strange number before answering, “Hello?”

  “Tasha?”

  She almost dropped the phone. Ice trickled into her veins as her body recognized Polo’s voice. She should’ve ended the call right then and there but she was frozen in shock. “I saw you in the courtroom with him today. Holding hands with Harper, like the whore you are.”

  “How did you get my number?”She managed to choke out.

  “You thought you were safe didn’t you? I’m coming for you,” he said in a sing-song voice. It was the same voice he’d used right before he had shot Zain.

  Tasha sat up straighter on the bed clutching the phone tightly. “I’m calling the police.”

  “You stupid bitch,” he yelled into the phone. “I’m going to get back at you for fucking up my life. By the time I’m done with you-”

  She ended the call. Oh God. Her hands were shaking so badly that the phone fell out of her limp fingers and onto the bed. It’s starting again. She’d become too comfortable in the knowledge that she was free of him. Obviously after seeing how the trial had gone today, he was feeling brave.

  The phone buzzed again, its vibrations rustling the bed covers and sending waves of fear through her body. Tasha flipped it over.

  {UNKNOWN CALLER}

  It was him again, wasn’t it? No! She couldn’t let him get to her. She had to stand up and fight. Bringing the phone to her ear, she stated firmly “Polo, if you don’t stop harassing me-”

  “Mrs. Nelson?” A female voice cut into her tirade. “This is Chesley Memorial. We’d like to inform you that we’ve found a match for your daughter. How long will it take you to get here?”

  CHAPTER 22

  Kian sat on the plush leather couch, his sock-clad feet crossed at the ankles on the wooden coffee table. The flat screen TV mounted on the wall was dark yet he continued to stare at it contemplatively. His gaze shifted to the clear brown fluid swirling in the glass in his hand, trying to figure out the secrets within it.

  He’d been holding this particular glass for the last twenty minutes, yet he still hadn’t taken even a sip. He tossed his head back and took a gulp. It was bitter, but not quite as bitter as the feelings running amok in him. The argument with Tasha had left a sour taste in his mouth and dull ache in his heart.

  His head told him he should walk away and that no woman was worth this kind of hustle. Tasha come into his life like a whirlwind and turned it around. She’d let him get close enough to get a taste of what she was all about, then before he could gorge himself, she’d pushed him away. Every time he thought he finally had her, she slipped from his grasp like an oiled up secret.

  Why couldn’t she trust him?

  Why couldn’t she give him all of herself and not just the part that had been scarred by Polo? There was so much mistrust in her that he was beginning to feel like he couldn’t cross the chasm that divided him from her. Being around her but not with her was too painful. Maybe it was time to walk away.

  But first he needed to sort out his own problems.

  Kian put the still almost full glass on the table beside his feet before reaching for his cell-phone and dialing. The phone was immediately picked up.

  “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” Hanna’s icy tones snapped at him. “I thought we agreed to leave each other alone. If you’re calling about how I ripped apart your girlfriend’s fake story I don’t want to hear it. That’s my-”

  He interrupted her, “I know about Richard.”

  Instantly there was silence on her side of her phone. The static reverberating in the ensuing silence told of shock. He could almost hear the wheels of her mind turning on the other side of town as she transitioned from shock to strategy. He knew any second now she’d try to knock him off his son’s scent. Finally her voice, calm as still water, came over the line “What about R.J.?”

  “R.J.” Kian asked, “Is that what you call my son?”

  “R.J. isn’t your son.” Her voice didn’t crack as she made the denial but Kian knew she was lying. Whenever she was spinning the truth her voice always got colder and more confident.

  “Either you come and talk to me about him or I’ll come and talk to you about him. Either way, we’re talking about him,” he snapped, cutting to the chase even before she could begin piling up the bullshit. “I assume you know where I live.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” Hanna ended the phone call. He was surprised she hadn’t tried to negotiate more, but guessed that Hanna thought she could do better with them standing face to face. Well, she had another think coming her way.

  He walked to the kitchen and poured the last of his drink down the sink then went back to the living room and waited. Precisely twenty minutes later, he heard the ping of the elevator. He found her standing at the foyer, scanning his home. Even in casual clothing, jeans and a t-shirt, she still looked tight and controlled or maybe it was the stone cold expression on her face, as if ice couldn’t melt on her treacherous tongue.

  “This way!” Kian led her to the living room then gestured for her to take a seat. Instead of taking the seat, she burst into sobs.

  Just like that! She put her palms to her face and burst into loud painful cries that would have ripped into any other man’s heart.

  Kian wasn’t moved. He stood by the mantelpiece with his arms crossed over his chest and watched her. Her shoulders shook from the force of her rough sobs. When the sniffling and bawling reduced to mere whimpers, he asked coldly, “Are you done so we can talk?”

  Her shoulders stopped shaking. The fingers of one hand separated to reveal one very clear eye staring at him.

  “Oh, fine.” She swiped at the few fake tears she’d managed to squeeze out before dropping her patent leather couch on the coffee table and taking a seat. “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”

  Of course Kian had known she was faking it. Hanna was the mistress of manipulation. This was a ploy she’d used on her father several times when she wanted to get something. He said, “Tell me about my son.”

  Hanna stared up at him contemplatively before her cold mask slipped firmly back in place. “How did you know about R.J.?”

  He answered her question with one of his own. “Why didn’t you tell me you wer
e pregnant?”

  “Is that a serious question or are you kidding me?” The expression on her face was incredulous like the question he’d asked was beyond stupid. She settled back on the couch, picking at her manicured nails as she said, “I wasn’t going to have a baby by a convict. And then by the time you were out you disappeared into witness protection.”

  “You could have told me any time before then,” Kian snapped

  “You were a little bit too dramatic for my tastes back then.” She shrugged as if that explained everything. “So I just let Rick think R.J was his son.”

  “And he believed that?” His voice rose in surprise. “The boy is dark skinned.”

  “I’m dark skinned,” Hanna retorted.

  Richard Clayton the senior was either blind or stupid – Kian was betting on the former. A man had to be seriously missing his mental faculties to stay tied to this sick woman for that long.

  Anger and disappointment, suffused his senses at the thought that she’d let another man claim his son. Kian turned his back to Hanna, unwilling to show her the extent of his emotions. His fingers dug into the wooden edges of the mantelpiece as he calmed the tempest storming inside him. When he was finally in control of his emotions he turned to face her. “I want to meet him.”

  “Who? Rick or R.J.?” Hanna hedged. His response was simply a glare. She shook her head. “No.”

  Coldly, I snapped, “Let me rephrase that. I’m going to meet my son.”

  “You can’t. It will destroy me.” She stood up from the seat, walking towards him until she was so close their feet were touching. Even in heels, she barely reached the top of his chest. But there was no fear in her amber eyes, only guile. She drew her lips into a seductive pout as her dainty manicured fingers curled over the fabric of his t-shirt, “Please, Keifer. I know I still mean a lot to you. Please don’t do this to me.”

  Kian stepped away from her going to stand behind the couch. When he spoke his voice was firm. “I’m going to meet my son.”