The Hot Lawyer (A Romance Love Story) (Hargrave Brothers - Book #4)

by Alexa Davis

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," I said smiling.

  "Shut the fuck up, Malone," the commander said as she pulled out her cuffs, yanked my hands out of the air, and cuffed them behind my back.

  "And lady," I added as an afterthought.

  "Kesha, call Riza and have her get in touch with my lawyer," I said calmly.

  "I heard you don't have a lawyer anymore, Malone," the commander said with a sarcastic smile. "Heard you had her executed and dumped in the drink. Kind of screwed yourself, now didn't you?"

  "No, I have a lawyer," I said. "Kesha, call Riza and tell her to contact Brooke Raines. She'll know what to do."

  "If I were a lawyer, I'd be hesitant to take on your case," the commander said as she yanked me by the cuffs and shoved me toward the front door. "Price of doing business with you seems kind of high."

  She shoved me in the back of the arrest wagon and then told the driver and his partner to take me down to Central Booking where I'd be booked and scheduled for an arraignment hearing. The officer rolled his eyes and barked, "Yes, sir! I mean, ma'am!" before driving off toward the station.

  I sat in back and thought about all the holes I might have left. I would probably have to plead to a drug charge, but that would be a pretty minor offense, since we'd moved most of the product off site as soon as the storage facility had been broken into. I might be charged as an accessory to murder, depending on who had actually killed Lydia, but there was no evidence that I'd had anything to do with her murder because as far as I knew, I really hadn't.

  Unless someone was trying to frame me. That possibility crept into my brain and as I turned it over, I wondered if all of this wasn't an attempt to frame me for Lydia's murder. It was all too convenient. The break in, the theft, and the police raid all pointed to an inside informant, but who would have a grudge that they'd work out this way? I quickly scrolled down the list of people I employed, but I couldn't think of one who'd be harboring a grudge big enough to want to frame me for murder.

  Except maybe Beck. But that made no sense; Beck was a drug-addled junkie who couldn't figure out how to get his next fix without help from an outside source. There was no way he was the mastermind behind a murder. And, he wouldn't do that to his own brother, would he? Would he?

  They photographed, fingerprinted, and booked me before throwing me in a small cell at the back of the station. I sat quietly on a bench, waiting to be told what was next. I hoped that Kesha had called Riza because otherwise I was up shit creek without a paddle. I couldn't afford to let a PD get a hold of my case; they'd hang me out to dry. My hopes were pinned on a blonde-haired, blue-eyed attorney who I'd really hoped I’d be waking up next to this morning.

  I sighed as I closed my eyes and replayed the night before, waiting for word from Riza. This was going to be a long day.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Brooke

  Teddy had just left my office when I heard Alma yelling, "Ma'am! Come back here! Ma'am, Miss Raines is in a meeting! You'll need to wait in the lobby while I notify her of your presence! Ma'am! I'm calling security!"

  "Go ahead and call, you old biddy," a voice growled outside my door seconds before it was flung open and a tall, dark-haired woman stepped through it.

  "Hey! You don't belong here!" I shouted.

  "Miss Raines, I'm calling building security!" Alma yelled over the intercom. "We have an intruder!"

  "You Brooke Raines?" the woman asked.

  "Yes, who are you?" I asked.

  "Riza D'Oro, Dax Malone sent me to find you," she said. "He's in trouble and needs your help."

  "Wait, what?" I said, confused by the woman's statement. "Dax sent you?"

  "Yeah, he was arrested by the police an hour ago, and he said you're his lawyer," she said. When no further explanation was forthcoming, I probed for more information.

  "When did he say I was his attorney?" I asked.

  "Dunno, Kesha said he told her to call me and tell me to find you and bring you to Central Booking," she shrugged. "I'm just doing what he asked."

  "Miss Raines, security is on its way!" Alma yelled into the intercom. "Hold on, they're coming to rescue you!"

  "Hold on a moment," I signaled to Riza. Then pressed the intercom button and said, "It's okay, Alma, you can call off security. Riza is here about a client, she just didn't know how our system works."

  "Are you sure?" came Alma's response.

  "Absolutely," I assured her. The silence on the other end let me know that Alma once again had the office under control.

  "Now, Miss D'Oro, you said that Mr. Malone needs a lawyer and I am the one he designated as such," I said. "Is this correct?"

  "Yes, but call me Riza, I hate that formal shit," she said as she shifted nervously and looked around the office. "You sure you know what you're doing?"

  "If you're asking if I'm an experienced criminal lawyer, then yes, I know exactly what I'm doing," I assured her. "But if you're asking whether I know what the hell is going on, Riza, then I'll have to be honest with you and say no, I don't have a clue what the fuck is going on."

  An amused smile briefly flashed across Riza's face and she stopped shifting as I bent down to gather up my briefcase and purse. Once I had what I thought I might need, I looked at her and said, "So, are you going to fill me in or am I going to have to wait until I see Mr. Malone?"

  "I'm here to give you a ride to booking, but there's no way in hell I'm gonna speak for Dax," she said shaking her head. "He’d fucking kill me if I told you anything he didn't want you to know."

  "Well, you do understand that now that I'm his lawyer, I'm going to need to know everything, right?" I asked.

  "Yeah, well, better safe than sorry, I always say," she said grimly as she headed out the door and down the hall.

  "Alma, could you please call Jordie and Roger? Tell them I'm on my way down to Central and that they should meet me there in thirty minutes."

  "Yes, Miss Raines," she said as she gave Riza a suspicious look. "Consider it done."

  On the way out to the door, Riza looked at me and commented, "We all have our second in command, don't we?"

  "Indeed, we do, Riza," I smiled. "Indeed we do."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Dax

  When the cops threw me in the cell, the first thing I thought of was Brooke. I needed her to come bail me out and I needed to see her face. I needed her help in finding out what I was being accused of and why I was taking the fall for something I clearly hadn't done.

  I knew it would be hours before they'd let me see my lawyer, so I sat down on the metal bench and slid back so that I was leaning against the cement wall. I surveyed my cellmates to make sure I wasn't being set up, and once I was sure that the drunk in the corner presented no threat, I let my mind wander back to Brooke and her warm body. There was something about her that was unlike any other woman I'd ever met. She was strong, smart, and not easily intimidated. I needed her in my corner to fight this charge, but I knew it was more than that.

  I needed Brooke, the woman. My thoughts quickly shifted to the memory of her soft, warm body pressed against mine and the look on her face as she climaxed in my arms. She was unique in that her tough exterior hid a soft interior that she didn't seem to show many people. Her layers of defense were as strong and solid as my own, but she had a softness that I both envied and wanted. In my arms, she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and out of them, she was tougher than nails. I needed her.

  The problem now was that when she showed up to defend me, I was going to have to tell her the truth and I wasn't sure that she could take it. She had no idea what I really did for a living, and I wasn't entirely sure that after she learned the truth, she would want to have anything more to do with me. I knew she'd take my case and fight for justice, but at what price?

  I needed someone as smart and stubborn as Lydia had been. But as I turned the case over in my head, I couldn't see how Brooke would want anything more than a lawyer-client relationship with me once she learned the truth. I ra
n my hand through my hair and rubbed the stubble on my chin as I turned it over and over in my mind, but was unable to come up with any good outcome.

  "Motherfucker! You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you!" screamed a voice that sounded like its owner was being dragged down the hall to the holding cell. "Screw you all! Fuckers!"

  I looked up just in time to see two officers unlocking the cell door and tossing my brother inside. I took one look at him lying on the floor throwing a fit and knew he was high.

  "Get the fuck up and stop acting like a little bitch, Beck," I growled. His head snapped up, eyes wide with a haunted look around the edges.

  "Dax?" he whispered. "Is that you or am I hallucinating?"

  "No, it's me, you dumbass," I said as I stood up and offered my hand. "Get up off the damn floor, you junkie."

  "Dax, they're killing me," he whispered as he took my hand and I pulled him to his feet.

  "No, they're not killing you, little brother," I said shaking my head slowly. "You're doing a fine job all by yourself."

  "You're one of them," he said as he narrowed his eyes and looked me over. "You're on their side. You're going to kill me for them."

  "Beck, quit being a total idiot and listen to me," I said in an exasperated tone. I'd had enough of his junkie drama and I wanted him to stop. "You're high as a kite. Where did you get the stuff?"

  "I'm not telling you," he pouted. "You'll kill my source."

  "Listen, you little dumbass," I said as I moved my face within inches of my brother's. "I want to know right fucking now where you got the drugs. Your two choices are tell me or don't tell me. But I will warn you that if you don't tell me, I will wipe the floor with your ass."

  "Fuck you," he spit at me as he turned toward the wall. I grabbed him and with one hand, spun him back around so he was facing me. Then, I grabbed a handful of his shirt and twisted it so that I could pull his face toward mine.

  "Beck, this is your last chance, brother," I warned. "You tell me where you got your stash or I am going to pound your ass into a pulp and leave you here to rot in this cell."

  He stared at me through stoned eyes and tried to process what I was saying. I could see the wheels turning and, after a minute of silent staring, he finally opened his mouth and spoke. "You're not going to like it."

  "Tell me anyway," I said unamused.

  "I got the stuff from Riza," he said.

  "You fucking liar," I said through clenched teeth. "Lie about anything, but don't you dare fucking lie about her."

  "I told you that you wouldn't like it." He shrugged with a lopsided smile. Then, with a serious look, he asked, "Are you gonna kill me now?"

  "Beck, why would Riza give you drugs?" I asked. If he was going to lie, I wanted to follow the lie to its logical conclusion.

  "Because I asked," he said matter-of-factly.

  "Bullshit," I said as I gripped his shirt tighter. "She knows better than to give you drugs. Why are you lying?"

  "I'm not lying, Dax," he said, in a voice that immediately slammed me back into the past. A store owner on San Pedro had accused Beck of stealing candy bars. And when I'd found Beck cowering in the back storage area of our grandmother's store, crying as he held a bag of frozen vegetables on the spot on his face where the shop owner had hit him, I yelled at him for stealing. He'd looked at me that same way he was looking at me now and swore that he wasn't lying. I hadn't believed him at the time, but later, when I'd investigated the incident, I found out that he had been telling the truth. The storeowner had wrongly accused and punished him for a crime he didn't commit. From that day on, I vowed to believe my brother when he told me he wasn't lying.

  I had to remind myself that this wasn't a sober Beck. This was the Beck who was shooting up and who would do anything for a fix. This was junkie Beck talking, so I wasn't entirely sure if I should believe him, even though I wanted to. I pulled him over to the bench and propped him up against the wall.

  "Just sit there until the lawyer gets here," I ordered.

  "Why you always gotta be so bossy?" Beck asked as he leaned against the wall lost in his high.

  "Because I'm your older brother," I said gruffly. "That's what I do."

  "That's good," he smiled as he slipped into his chemically altered mind.

  I stood watch over him until the officer came and told me my lawyer was here to see me. I took a deep breath and steeled myself as I prepared to tell Brooke the truth.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Brooke

  Jordie greeted me as I walked through the doors of the precinct and headed to the desk. He frowned when I asked where Roger was. "I don't know," he replied. "I haven't seen him since he said he had an errand to run and walked out of the station."

  "How long ago was that?" I asked.

  "Couple of hours," Jordie replied. Then, anticipating my next question, he continued, "I have no idea where he was going."

  "Text him and tell him to get his ass back here," I said. "We're going to need to present a united front when we go before the judge, and we might need him to sit in the second chair."

  "What about me?" Jordie asked.

  "You might have to be first chair," I said as I signed the logbook at the desk and asked to see Dax Malone. The desk officer nodded and told us to wait while she sent someone back to get him.

  "Why the hell would I be first chair on this one?" Jordie asked.

  "Because I might not be able to take the case, Jordie," I said as I gave him a meaningful look. He was confused, and I didn't want to have to explain why I might not be able to take Dax's case. "Just trust me. Text Roger and get him back here ASAP."

  "Uh, okay," Jordie said as he pulled out his phone and started rapidly tapping the screen.

  Meanwhile, I thought about how I was going to approach this bail hearing. I was going to have to ask Dax a lot of personal questions about why he thought he'd been arrested and who he thought was actually responsible. I knew that there was no way I could defend him if I had any doubts, and I wasn't entirely sure that I wouldn't have doubts, thus the backup plan consisting of Jordie and Roger.

  I took some deep breaths as I prepared to face Dax. I had to be his lawyer, not the woman who he'd pushed over the edge of sexual ecstasy in the back room of Dooley's last night. My body had other ideas, though. It wasn't going to be thrown off so easily, and I could feel my pulse begin racing as I thought about Dax's dark eyes looking down into mine as he'd run his hands over my bare skin.

  "No!" I said as I shook my head and tried to clear those thoughts out of my mind.

  "Huh?" Jordie looked up from his phone.

  "Nothing, just talking to myself," I said as I worked to clear my mind. I needed to think about the issue directly in front of me and that was that Dax had been accused of murder. The question was why. Why would a club owner want to kill his lawyer? And, was it possible that a man with Dax's capacity for tenderness could be capable of killing someone? I walked a dangerous line as I tried to reconcile the possible sides of Dax Malone.

  "Ms. Raines?" the desk officer called. "Malone is being brought to the interview room now. Please follow me."

  I stood up and smoothed my skirt, picked up my briefcase, and followed the officer to the back. She patted me down as she asked if I had any weapons on my person. After telling her I did not, she dug through my briefcase before nodding to the guard behind the gate who buzzed me in. He walked me back to the interview room and punched in a number on the key pad before the door swung open to reveal Dax sitting cuffed to the interview table wearing the clothes I'd last seen him in.

  I inhaled sharply as I looked into his eyes and then quickly looked away. The effect he had on me was overwhelming, and if I was going to get him out of here, I had to focus on the job at hand – being his lawyer.

  "Mr. Malone, it's good to see you," I said as I set my briefcase on the table and opened it so I could grab a legal pad and a pen.

  "Do we really need to be that formal, counselor?" he asked as a grin played at the edg
es of his lips.

  "Indeed, we do," I said casting my eyes over to the window and then looking back at Dax. They couldn't legally listen to us, but they could watch us. Dax followed my eyes and then nodded slightly before looking directly at me again. I took a deep breath and began.

  "I'm here to represent you," I said. "Can you tell me what happened?"

  He quickly recounted the details of his arrest as I looked down at the charge sheet. I couldn't figure out why he was being charged with first-degree murder, aside from the fact that the investigating officer claimed to have found traces of Lydia's blood on Dax's boat.

  "Mr. Malone, can you explain why the DA would want to charge you with first-degree murder?" I asked.

  "Brooke, can we please drop the formal tone and just talk?" he said. He looked at me seriously as he spoke. "As my lawyer, I need to tell you things that may affect the way you see me personally. Are you sure you want to hear them?"

  "I'm your lawyer. Don't you think it's a wise idea to give me all the information I need to be able to defend you?" I asked. I knew what he was saying, but I was here in a professional capacity and it wasn't appropriate for me to discuss our personal relationship.

  "Yeah, but this is going to be hard to hear," he warned as he stared at me. I felt like he was looking inside of me and seeing all the uncertainty and it unnerved me.

  "Then you'd best begin by telling me everything," I said as I steeled myself and waited to hear what he had to say. I didn't know what I'd do if he admitted that he'd killed Lydia.

  "First, I want to make two things absolutely clear," he said, fixing me in his gaze, unwilling to let me look away. "One, I did not kill Lydia."

  "And, the second thing?" I asked.

  "Two, you matter to me," he said dropping his voice. "I'm not letting go."

  "I...I...I understand," I stuttered. Then, leaning closer, I said quietly, "You need to treat me like your lawyer right now. Please."

  He nodded and began telling me everything I needed to know. Halfway through his tale, I had to stand up and walk to the other side of the room as I processed the story.