by A. J. Thomas
He didn’t know if he believed CPG was trying to hurt him, but someone was. Nate and Tonya had been caught in the middle, and he couldn’t blame Nate’s dad for wanting to help. But Nate had done all the work on his case, and Nate was the only one who should profit from it other than Sean himself.
“I understand that you’re worried, but this seems….” Sean wanted to be tactful, but being loyal seemed more important than keeping the peace. “It seems opportunistic to me.”
“How dare you?” Emmitt glared at him.
“Dad, you’ve made it very clear you have no interest in my personal or professional life,” Nate said, his tone bitter. “We both know you don’t want to work with me. Hell, I’ve spent my entire life pretending to be the perfect son, and you still never wanted anything to do with me. I’m more skeptical than Sean on this one. The only thing that has made you take an interest in this case is the chance to go up against Richard Harrison and the possibility of a seven-figure contingent fee.”
Emmitt staggered back as if he’d been struck physically. “You really believe that? Nathan, I’m not offering my services on any kind of a fee basis, I’m volunteering.”
“You’re suggesting the firm would take this pro bono?” Nate asked incredulously.
“No. Just me. Which might be in everyone’s best interests. If you keep conducting business at all hours, people might start to talk. If Harrison has any reason to suspect impropriety on your part, he won’t hesitate to report the matter to the bar ethics committee.”
Sean was going to make a joke out of it, but a quick glance at Nate, who was gaping at his father with an expression bordering on terror, kept him quiet.
“How do you expect this trial to proceed if you’re sanctioned by the bar? Your position as Mr. Wilkinson’s counsel would be compromised, and since there is no other counsel retained to step in, Harrison will get Mr. Wilkinson’s case dismissed in a heartbeat.” Emmitt seemed to consider his son with a critical expression. “It’s already an issue, isn’t it? You were stupid enough to pursue a personal relationship with your first client without a supervising attorney. Do you realize what this could cost you? You could be disbarred.”
“Your fucking rumors are the reason I couldn’t retain another attorney. Nobody has the balls to step on your toes by getting in the middle of a family feud. But Sean’s got copies of all of the case materials, and we both agreed that he’ll hire an independent attorney himself this coming week. I’m not pretending that I haven’t crossed some ethical lines, but you being an asshole has made it almost impossible not to. Are you really threatening to report me to the bar over this?” Nate asked, looking pale.
“No, I’m not,” Emmitt almost growled. “But Harrison will. I never intended to stop you from retaining additional counsel, just to get you to listen to reason. And you’ve got to now. If you can show you brought in outside counsel because you were aware of the risk of bias, it won’t be an issue. If you don’t accept my help, you’re committing professional suicide.”
“You would try to destroy my career so you can get ahold of this case?” Nate looked like he was going to be sick.
“Nate….” Sean kept his voice low. “Warning someone they’re standing at the edge of a cliff isn’t the same as shoving them over. Could you really get disbarred over this?”
Nate lowered his head and shrank into a dejected slouch. “I told you there were issues.”
“You didn’t say you could lose your license. When you said ethical issues, I just assumed you’re fundamentally a good person. That there wouldn’t be any harm.”
“I didn’t think it would be a problem for me, I was worried about you. But I also thought the whole ‘what’s the worst that could happen if we don’t wait until after Thanksgiving?’ thing was reasonable. It turns out I’m wrong a lot.”
Emmitt’s gaze shot sideways toward Sean. “Clearly. I would like to help you, Nathan, but the only way I can see to do that is to bring this reckless mistake to an end or have Mr. Wilkinson sign a backdated retainer bringing me on board.”
Sean swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral as his stomach sank in dread.
Nate took a deep breath and looked up at his father. “No. If you want to get me disbarred, you’re welcome to try. I will fight tooth and nail to stop you, but I will not ever treat this like a mistake.”
“You could very well be sacrificing your career, Nathan,” Emmitt warned him.
“A year ago, if someone told me I’d rely on a poem to shape my decisions, I would have thought they were insane,” Nate said, smiling at Sean before returning his gaze to his father. “I’ll risk it. The only thing any of us are guaranteed in life is that things change. This is just a job. It’s a job that defines me, but if I have to move on, I will—it won’t be the end of me. If I walk away from Sean without giving this a chance, I think I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
“Then you damn well better accept my help. Besides, I can bring at least one thing to the table you can’t.”
“And what’s that?”
“As your friend so astutely pointed out Monday—my firm isn’t just famous, it’s infamous. We have a reputation as one of the most vicious and well-funded litigation firms in the state of Texas. That reputation is entirely valid, and entirely my doing. Even if I just sit at the table and keep my mouth shut, the implication will be that you have all the resources of the firm at your disposal.”
“And what do you want out of it?” Nate asked.
“Is it so hard for you to believe that I don’t want to have to rely on the insurance company’s automated claims notification system to find out when you’re in the emergency room? Unfortunately, I know you’ve no intention of calling if something else happens, so I’ll have to focus my attention on preventative efforts. With me there, Harrison will know that if he can’t rein his clients in, I’ll destroy him.”
The almost whimsical smile on Emmitt Delany’s face was unnerving.
“Look, Sean and I’ll discuss it. But for now—”
“Can you give us a minute?” Sean said to Emmitt, cutting Nate off.
Nate’s father retreated through the curtain and pulled it closed behind him with a quick “Of course.”
“Are you seriously thinking about it?” Nate asked.
Sean used the armrests to push himself to his feet. He tumbled more than walked to the bed, but he managed to get close enough that he landed next to Nate’s thigh rather than on the floor. Once he settled next to Nate, he ran his fingers down the top of Nate’s forearm. “You’re hurt because of me,” he said.
“No. I’m hurt because of the bastard who tried to kill you. And I’ll heal.”
“Yeah, you’ll heal this time. But what if you get hurt again?” Nate’s hand was cut open in three places. The same hand Nate had used to touch him, to make him feel human and wanted again for the first time in ages. The wounds would take weeks to heal, and the scars might never completely fade. “What if you lose your license because of me? I can’t…. Your dad might look more like a history professor than a lawyer, but if he can help restore a bit of sanity to this mess before you’re seriously hurt or out of a job, I’m willing to work with him. On the other hand, I know what this case means for you, and I don’t want to take away this chance. But Tonya just got out of the hospital this morning,” he said, keeping his voice calm and controlled. “If she’s lucky, it’ll only be a few weeks before she’s fully recovered. You’re sitting here now, waiting to get your hand stitched back together. That’s two out of the three people I actually give a shit about. It’s sheer dumb luck that you’re both just injured and not dead.”
“Says the man with bloodred eyes,” Nate mumbled, cupping Sean’s cheek with his left hand.
“Can he actually do what he says he can?”
Nate shrugged his left shoulder. “If Harrison ever had any control over Bruce and CPG, this wouldn’t have happened to begin with. But it would prevent the bar ethics committee from
eating me alive.”
“This is supposed to be your case. You said yourself that it could make or break your entire career.”
“There will be other cases,” Nate said, squeezing his upper arm. “What matters is that you’re safe and you get the best settlement or judgment possible, not who wins the judgment for you.”
“Mr. Delany?” a young resident in green scrubs shoved the curtain open. “My attending physician is on his way, so we’re ready to get those lacerations closed and get you out of here.”
“How about I go talk to your dad,” Sean said, quickly slipping off the gurney and bending to grab his cane.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll come out once this is done.”
He stood aside as another doctor and a nurse hurried in, then found Emmitt Delany standing against the wall near the double doors leading back to the waiting room. Even though the distance was minimal, he was frustrated by how long it took him to walk down the hall. He wasn’t about to grumble, because he was grateful to be able to walk at all, but it was still annoying.
“Mr. Delany, Nate said he’ll meet us in the waiting room when the doctors are finished.”
“All right. Have you considered my offer?”
Sean pushed the button for the automatic door that opened back into the waiting room before leading Emmitt Delany out. “I have. I think it’d be worth accepting your help, but I’ve got some conditions.”
“Conditions for accepting pro bono representation from me?”
“Yes. And don’t try to act offended.”
“I’m not acting. You’ve done nothing but insult me since we met on Monday.”
“Yeah, like I said, I don’t always know when to keep my mouth shut. I understand why you’re offended, for what it’s worth. You’re used to being in charge, to always being given the benefit of the doubt, and you’re used to negotiating from an advantaged position. Nate’s stopped adhering to the script in your head, and I just don’t give a fuck. He’s in a situation you have no insight into and no control over, and to top it all off, he doesn’t need or want your help. And here I am, not jumping up and down with excitement because you’ve offered to swoop in and save the day.” He leaned heavily on his cane, focusing on his balance. “Let me sit down.”
“You seem to be walking quite well, considering you were using a wheelchair a few days ago.”
“I’d be using my wheelchair now, if I hadn’t left the damn thing at the shop. It’s been a tiring week.”
Hawk was sitting near the doors. He glanced up from his phone and stared at Sean as if silently offering him help. Sean shook his head slightly and continued to make his way toward the empty chairs beside him.
It took almost a minute just to cross the damn waiting room, but he made it without falling on his face. “Okay,” he breathed when he could finally sit down. “Mr. Delany, this is my boss, Hawk Sterner. Hawk, this is Nate’s dad, Emmitt Delany.”
“Boss?” Emmitt asked.
“Affectionate boss,” Sean said, annoyed at having to try to label Hawk yet again.
“’Cause that doesn’t sound inappropriate at all,” Hawk teased him.
“He’s the closest thing to family I have,” Sean tried to explain.
Hawk offered him a tight-lipped smile but didn’t say anything.
“I see. What are your conditions?” Emmitt asked, perching on the chair beside him.
“The first one’s pretty simple. Nate’s in charge. I trust him, and I know he won’t do anything that’s not in my best interests, even when he really wants to,” he said, thinking about the way Nate had practically vibrated with nervous energy when he couldn’t say anything to the police about Bruce. “He does everything in court and in meetings. Every argument, every witness, every negotiation session is his. If you talk to anybody about the case, you give him full credit for it.”
Emmitt Delany stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “I don’t make a habit of gossiping about confidential matters.”
“Good. Other than that, I don’t feel inclined to put up with a judgmental or condescending attitude, so if you can’t refrain from that, this isn’t going to work out.”
“Have I been condescending?”
He shrugged. “Yes, actually, but I’m not talking about our interactions so far. I’m asking you to check your responses to the shit I’m going to tell you. Personally, I still don’t think it matters, but Nate…. I’ve got no family except the tattoo artist who took me in when I was twelve,” he explained, cocking his head in Hawk’s direction. “I’ve got no home, and when I interned with CPG, I had no moral qualms about sleeping with my boss, who is presently CPG’s star witness and the guy Nate thinks wants me dead.”
“Interned?”
“Yeah.”
“You engaged in a sexual relationship with your internship supervisor at Confederated Petroleum? While you were a student?”
He shrugged. “It was better than sleeping with random old fuckers just to eat when I was a kid.”
Emmitt clenched his hands into fists, but otherwise stayed perfectly calm.
“When did you begin your internship?”
“First summer after I started college, and every summer after. And it worked out—he offered me a full-time gig right out of school. A few days later, years of skipping maintenance on the ship led to several thrusters failing during a well-stimulating operation just off the coast. The result—” He straightened his left knee so the prosthetic rose into the air, and pulled the leg of his sweatpants up over the titanium pylon. “A steel cable sawed off one of my legs and shredded the other. My surgeons managed to save my right leg, but if I were to say that I had one good leg, it’d be the one made out of titanium.”
“How old was he?” Emmitt asked, his tone severe. “Your boss?”
“Bruce? Almost fifty, I think. His kids are my age, so he’s got to be pretty old. Anyway, Nate dug up proof that Bruce forged the Republic Sea’s maintenance records, the court ruled in my favor at the hearing on the Jones Act thing, which I still don’t totally understand, and CPG offered a settlement. I told my boss I was planning on accepting, and he was relieved. We parted ways, and I thought this was almost over. That night a CPG company car rammed into my Jeep while it was being driven by a coworker of mine. She’s got a concussion. She was actually just released from this same damn hospital this morning.”
“She was only released because her folks were in town to take care of her. Otherwise she’d have spent Thanksgiving in the hospital,” Hawk added.
“And then tonight, Nate had dinner with us at the shop. I walked him out, and somebody slammed me into the side of the building and tried to strangle me. If Nate hadn’t looked back, it could have been a really shitty night. The guy ran off, I called the cops, they called an ambulance, and… well, here we are.”
“I see. And, you and my son are…?”
“No,” Sean said. “That is not your business. You’ve pushed him out of your life, and you have no right to pry into our relationship without his consent. If you’re really curious, you’re going to have to take it up with him.”
“You shouldn’t make rash assumptions regarding things you’re not well-informed about.”
“I’m not assuming, just taking Nate’s word for it. If he’s misinformed, it might be worth enlightening him. Trust me on this one—it’s devastating to go through life convinced your family doesn’t want you.”
“You really do tend to speak without thinking,” Emmitt practically growled.
“I do, I admit it. But I sympathize with him. You see, I ended up alone on the streets as a twelve-year-old for the same reason he’s resigned to spending every holiday for the rest of his life alone,” Sean said, keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead.
Emmitt stood up, his expression hard and unreadable. “I think this conversation is over. I’ll help you, because it’s the only way I can keep my fool of a son from getting himself killed for your sake. But you don’t know him, me, or our family. Don’t presu
me to speak about our lives again.”
Hawk shifted beside him, but Sean motioned for him to stay in his seat as Emmitt Delany strode away, back toward Nate’s tiny curtained room.
“What a family…,” Hawk muttered.
Chapter 12
SOMETIMES SLEEPING late felt like the ultimate luxury. Nate finally rolled over sometime around noon, after resolutely ignoring the throbbing ache in his hand for an hour, when someone hammered on his front door. He didn’t want to get out of bed, so he took a moment to soak up the smell of sex and Sean’s aftershave still lingering on his sheets. Then more frantic thuds on his front door echoed around the house. He groaned, annoyed, and rolled onto his side, hissing as he accidentally used his heavily bandaged hand to push himself upright.
When he stumbled out into the living room, he was surprised to see three different cars parked along the curb out front. He recognized his dad’s Lexus, but the other two he wasn’t sure about.
Nothing could have happened overnight. He’d left Sean and Hawk at the shop, watched them lock the doors, and stayed in the parking lot staring at shadows before he’d finally driven himself home.
Sean had to be okay.
There was another series of knocks, this one lasting almost thirty seconds.
“Hang on!” he shouted, hurrying toward the door. He turned the deadbolt and clumsily pulled the door open. “What’s happened?” he asked, his gaze going straight to his father.
He wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting. Given that the cars weren’t police cars, he’d considered the possibility of his father showing up with the FBI, with someone else from the firm, or maybe even with Richard Harrison. But instead of a bunch of serious law enforcement officers and attorneys, his family was crowded onto his doorstep. His mom and dad, both dressed for an afternoon at their country club, were standing in front of Steven and Cheryl. Even Matthew was there, although he lingered behind Steven, and his wife and children were nowhere to be seen.