Maybe honesty was the best policy. "Well, imagine hearing it from my point of view. I heard words like 'long' and 'hard' and 'finish off' and I'm a guy, so yes, I guess my mind went there. Hardly anyone but the cleaning crew works this late, and I just assumed anyone still here was up to no good."
I tried to plead my case, but even I knew the defense was weak. A better man would have looked at the evidence first and then asked questions. My tired and emotional brain had irrationally jumped to the wrong conclusion.
"Circumstantial evidence. You must be a great lawyer," she spat. "Do you always judge everyone before you know all the facts? Or are you so hell-bent on fitting me into your preconceived idea that there's no room for questions?"
The she-wolf took a step toward me and raised her hand. I prepared myself for the claws I deserved. They didn't strike. What did were the words she flung at me. "You," her chest heaved as she pointed her finger at me, "you really think that badly of me, don't you? You don’t know me. You think because I served time in prison that I must have no character whatsoever; that I always make poor choices. Well, for your information, I...I...oh, never mind. You're going to think what you will anyway."
She turned away, but not before I saw the glitter of tears in her eyes. She began to pack some paper and a computer tablet into a bag.
"Madelyn --" I didn't know what to say, how to make this right. But I knew I had to try. I saw something break in her as she was speaking, and I hated being responsible for it. "I'm sorry. Even if I thought what I did, I should have confirmed it before I accused you. I know better than that, and I'm truly sorry."
She didn't say anything, just sniffed and shrugged her small shoulders.
I grasped her forearm and tried to gently turn her to look at me. "I really am sorry."
Slowly she twisted toward me, and my heart broke at the devastated look on her face.
"You know," she whispered hoarsely, "I heard you that day you told me to look in the mirror. I heard what you were trying to tell me - that I had a chip on my shoulder, and that I shut people down without giving them a chance. It doesn't take a genius to see that I reject them before they can reject me. But how can I move past that when there will always be people like you who never consider there might be more to me? You say I sit on my high horse, but you sit in your...your pristine ivory tower ready to launch arrows coated in condescending barbs at those you think are beneath you."
I flinched at her words. God, this woman knew how to deliver a punch and drive me insane, even if she was a bit melodramatic.
"Dramatic much?" Yeah, that probably didn't help my cause much.
She glared at me. "If the shoe fits..."
All my emotions flooded to the surface.
"If I live in an ivory tower, then it was built and dirtied with my own blood, sweat, and tears, sweetheart. And I don't mean just hard work. I've experienced loss and seen the worst of what humanity has to offer." I moved forward until I backed her against the table where she'd been sitting, bracing one arm on the table and one on her chair, caging her until I could inhale her vanilla scent and my breath gently stirred a few wisps of hair across her forehead.
"You think you're the only one who's had a tough life? Get over yourself. That doesn't make you special. It also doesn't need to make you a victim for the rest of your life. You get to choose what you're going to do about it. I'm sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion, but it had nothing to do with your background or you. I said I'm sorry already. Accept it or reject it; I'm not sure I even care. But don't expect me to stand here and feel sorry for you while you push everybody away and hide behind your self-doubt."
We both stood glaring at each other, our chests heaving from our burst of emotions. Several seconds passed before I turned on my heel and walked out on her. Again.
I tried to go back to working in my office, but after my confrontation with Madelyn I couldn't focus at all, her words still playing in my head. She was right; I didn't know anything about her other than she served time for murder.
After pacing my office for several minutes, I typed in a few keywords on my computer. Sure enough, 'Madelyn Stone' turned up on a few sites, mostly newspaper articles. I skimmed through them for the basics: she had been accused of murdering Paul Regis, a regional Vice-President for a national lumber company, and she’d accepted a plea deal and was sentenced to eight years in prison on the charge of second-degree murder. The Regis family made several statements regarding their disappointment in the ruling, saying she plotted the murder when Paul Regis rejected her sexual advances in exchange for a corporate sponsored college scholarship. Madelyn's court-appointed lawyer had tried to claim she was protecting a third person, someone named Charly, but since that person could not be found to testify on Madelyn's behalf, her defense held little merit. I suspected the overworked public defender had done his best, but didn't have the time or resources to investigate fully. And the police thought they had an open and shut case, so they didn't pursue it further.
I drummed my fingers on my desk. I had a lot of pages, but the story still wasn't coming together. There were too many holes. From what I knew of Madelyn, she was smart, witty, and compassionate. She didn't seem capable of hurting anyone, much less murdering someone. Then again, not every murderer came packaged in a burly thug-like appearance. Who knew what someone was capable of when pushed too far? The lack of the supposed witness didn't add up. And where was her family now? Why wasn't anyone there to greet her the day she was released?
I shook my head. This evening had turned out to be too fucked up in the end. I grabbed my jacket and felt for my truck keys and phone. It was only seven-thirty; maybe I could still catch James to have that drink.
"Hey, you've reached James Harrington. You know what to do."
Shit. Of course he wasn't waiting around for me. He was probably balls deep into his girlfriend by now. Not that I could blame him. I briefly considered going to our favorite hangout, even if I had to hang out alone at the bar. But inevitably some chick looking for a free drink and possible hook-up would hit on me, and I wasn't in the mood to be generous, either with my wallet or my dick. At least at home I might be able to drink enough to fall into a drunken stupor and fall into a dreamless sleep.
The storm was moving out, but it was still rainy and had turned noticeably cooler. I turned up the heat against the damp chill as I pulled out of the parking garage. Stopped at a light, I noticed Madelyn standing under a red umbrella at a bus stop. She seemed to be watching an older man trying to huddle under the roof lip of a convenience store. She took a step toward him, then stopped and looked around. She rocked back and forth a few times as if she couldn't decide whether or not to approach him. After several false starts, she dug into her shoulder bag and withdrew something small, and then walked over to the man and leaned down to speak to him, handing him whatever it was she took from her purse. He shook his head, but she took his hand and placed whatever it was in his. She straightened up, handed him her umbrella, and walked into the store.
A car behind me honked. I’d been so caught up in watching her I’d forgotten about the light. I waved my hand in acknowledgment and quickly pulled over to the parking lane at the first opportunity. I clearly had no shame, spying like I was in my rear view mirror. I told myself I just wanted to make sure Madelyn was okay, but I was also curious about what she was doing.
She emerged a minute later carrying a small plastic bag and a hot beverage cup. She handed both items to him. I saw him try to hand the umbrella back to her, but she shook her head, pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, and set off down the sidewalk in my direction. At that moment, the city bus pulled up, and the man stood and looked after her and then stepped onto the bus, still clasping the bag and cup like a new-found treasure.
"What's your story, Madelyn Stone?" I whispered as I watched her walk toward me, huddled in her sweatshirt.
Did I really care? Caring implied an emotional connection, and that entered dangerous territory when it
came to women. In my experience, women seemed to have a hard time stopping at friendship. It would start off as a casual drink or meal together, but it wasn't long before they read more into it. My heart had already been claimed and broken, so there was no point in stringing them along. And so, I put the women in my life into separate categories: family, professional, and those I was willing to fuck, the third of which by far had the longest list. And I never, ever let the second two categories cross each other. If I couldn't put a woman into one of those columns, I basically ignored them.
But something about Madelyn made me want to blur the lines. For the first time, I wanted to know more about a woman than how she might help my case or how she felt coming around my cock. I tried to define my interest as mere curiosity, scrubbing aside any feelings that I was lying to myself.
Before I could stop myself, I lowered the passenger window and called to her as she passed. She hesitated and glanced around, but continued walking without seeing me. I grabbed for my umbrella in the passenger seat, shut down my truck, and hurried after her.
9
Maddy
I could have sworn I heard someone call my name, but at a quick glance the only people I saw were a couple across the street, and they seemed pretty engrossed in each other, laughing and huddling together under an umbrella. There weren't many people out walking in this kind of weather. Shrugging my shoulders, I pulled my jacket tighter around me and kept walking.
I heard the sound of footsteps slapping against the wet pavement fast approaching me. Nervously, I quickened my pace, all of my senses on high alert. When a hand clasped around my forearm, I froze. I tried to scream, but my heart clogged my throat and spots formed in front of my eyes. For once I wished I was in a crowd; maybe there would be someone to help me.
Don't just stand there, my brain frantically communicated through the flashbacks that filled my mind. Fight back!
I could feel the raindrops stop pelting me as I sensed a large form over and behind me. I turned around and swung an adrenaline-powered fist. Pain throbbed as it made contact with something hard and warm. I was about to bring my knee up when the urgency of my name being called halted my movement.
"Madelyn! Madelyn, stop. It's me. Holt."
Air returned to my lungs as I registered his familiar voice. Startled, I stared at him in shock. The only thing that kept me from collapsing to the sidewalk were his hands clasping my arms. Raindrops dripped from his hair and ran down his face.
I groaned in relief and frustration before glaring at him. "Geez, Holt! Didn't your mother ever teach you not to sneak up on someone? That's twice tonight you almost gave me a heart attack!"
I shook my hand, still throbbing from where it hit him. I still didn't know where my fist had landed; only that it was hard as a rock, apparently like his head. Couldn't this man just leave me alone? The last thing I could handle tonight was more Holten Andrews.
"Didn't yours ever teach you to dress appropriately for the weather and not to walk alone in the dark? It's not safe." He practically growled the last words before he bent to pick up an open umbrella from the sidewalk. We stood close enough I could smell the subtle spiciness of his cologne.
He couldn't possibly know how much his words stung. "No, she didn't." I crossed my arms. "And dark nights aren't the biggest things to be afraid of," I added under my breath.
He held the umbrella over me, making it easier to look up at him. He gazed back. "Know a lot about dark knights, hmm? Does that have anything to do with your previous accusations? What was it you said? My 'ivory tower 'and my 'barb-coated arrows'?"
I ignored his misunderstanding of my words. "Yeah, um, I'm sorry about that. I swear I used to have a brain to mouth filter. I seemed to have lost it over the past few years. Manners don't get you as far in prison as they do in this life. But, I shouldn't have said that. I read a lot, and sometimes I tend to have a flair for the dramatic."
"I noticed." His hand rubbed his shoulder. "By the way, next time, aim for the crotch. It will have more of the result I think you were looking for, although, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try it on me."
"Mr. Andrews," I sighed, "as nice as this is, why are you out here in the rain besides scaring the shit out of me?"
"It's Holt. And I stopped because I saw you walking alone in the dark on a rainy night. I was an ass earlier this evening, but I'd like a chance to make it up to you.
I eyeballed him carefully but saw nothing but sincerity in his expression. "So you left the warmth of your ivory tower to rescue a damsel in distress?" I added a small smile to prove I was only teasing.
His grin warmed the chill right out of me. "I even have my trusty black steed over yonder." He pointed down the street a short ways where I recognized his truck.
It was tempting, but things didn't usually end well when the two of us were together. "Thank you, but I'll be fine. It's only a few blocks."
"Please get in the truck, Madelyn. It's a lot easier to rescue a damsel when she cooperates. Besides, I can practically hear your teeth chattering."
I snorted. But I was cold. And the way I figured it, he did owe me from earlier. "Well, I wouldn't want to tarnish a knight's armor by keeping him out in the rain, so thank you."
He chuckled and placed his arm around my back and held me close so that the umbrella continued to cover both of us. It was a comfortable feeling, warm and secure, and I missed it the second he pulled away to open the door.
Holt turned up the heat and by the time we reached the end of the block, I had stopped my shivering. He was quiet as he navigated the streets. I used the silence to reflect on the shift that had occurred between us tonight. I was about to ask him why he was working so late when he spoke.
"I have a confession."
"Shouldn't you have counsel present before you say anything?"
He chuckled. "You'll have to do for now." His face grew serious. "I didn't just happen to drive by and see you walking. I saw you at the bus stop and how you helped that old man. Why didn't you get on the bus, too?"
My jaw dropped. "You were spying on me?"
"Let's just call it an observable moment."
"Potayto, potahto," I smirked.
"Answer the question, Maddy."
Bossy much? "Does it really matter?"
He shrugged. "I'm just curious. It's not something most people would have done."
I stared out the window. "You mean, especially someone who would kill a man." My words were barely above a whisper, yet they echoed off the window and back at me as if confronting me, challenging me to deal with my real identity.
"Madelyn." His deep voice was tinged with exasperation. "You're projecting again, putting words in my mouth that weren't there."
I sighed. He was right. I'm not sure why I reacted this way to him. Maybe because he’d seen me at my most vulnerable - leaving prison alone where he, a stranger, had to step in because no one else cared enough to meet me.
"I could see by the way his hands curled that he had arthritis, and I'm sure this weather makes it particularly painful. He said he was trying to get to a shelter, but it had started raining, and they didn't like him hanging out inside the store. So I gave him my bus pass and some hot coffee to warm his hands while he held it, plus a sandwich to eat."
"So why didn't you buy another pass or pay cash for your own fare?" He knew how to pursue an answer, that was for damn sure.
"Because I didn't have the right change," I mumbled.
"You mean because you spent it on the food you bought him, don't you?"
He didn't miss a thing. I shrugged it off as if it were no big deal because to me, it wasn't. "Well, I'm younger and healthier. A walk in the rain won't hurt me, and thanks to the kindness of others, I have a warm place to go home to tonight."
He pulled into my complex and parked his truck. He shut off the engine and swiveled around so he could look at me.
"That's one of the kindest things I've witnessed in a long time." The light of a street lamp reflect
ed on his face, dotted by shadows of raindrops on the windshield. He shook his head. "You really are an enigma."
"First a cat and now an enigma. Throwing stones again, Mr. Andrews?"
He smiled and shook his head. "No, just learning more about you. And it was 'barbed arrows' I believe."
I was glad it was dark so he couldn't see how red my face turned. "Yeah, about that. I'm sorry." I smiled shyly. "Anyway, thank you for the ride." I started to open my door.
"Stop." Lightning flashed again, and the rain started to pour. Holt grabbed his umbrella and reached for his handle.
"Um, thank you, but I can take it from here."
He frowned at me. "I didn't rescue you from a walk in the rain to have you get soaked at the end." He jumped out of the truck before I could argue further. He opened my door and extended his hand. I hesitated to accept his assistance, a combination of stubbornness to be independent and because I wasn't used to such politeness.
And maybe because you're afraid you'll enjoy it?
Other than Emma McCloskey's warm hug, it had been a long time since I'd known a kind touch. Despite some rough moments, Holt’s kindness tonight was making it hard to resist him.
I must have paused too long because the next thing I knew I'd been pulled from my seat and was standing next to him, his arm wrapped around my shoulders holding me close. I tried to put some distance between us, but I was quickly yanked back against him. "I don't bite, Ms. Stone. It's also not a big umbrella, and while I don't want you to get wet, I don't particularly feel like getting soggy either."
A streak of lightning with a crack of thunder right on top of it made me forget about any qualms I had of being close to him as the earth rumbled beneath our feet. I flung my arms around his waist and buried my face against his chest. I absorbed the smell of his soft wool suit coat and cologne, so completely masculine but comforting. I felt his stance stiffen but then relax and the arm around my shoulders squeezed.
He bent his head, and his breath felt warm as he rumbled directly in my ear. "Let's get inside before we become a human lightning rod."
Yesterday's Tomorrows Page 7