If I Only Knew

by Corinne Michaels

  “You were a few minutes ago. You could’ve told Callum everything, made me look stupid. You could’ve told him I had a freak out where I was sobbing, but you didn’t.”

  “How do you know I wasn’t playing the game we’ve been set up to play?” Milo asks.

  I realize I don’t, but something in my gut says he’s not.

  Milo has no reason to be nice to me. He’s a rich, arrogant, egomaniac who has lived a life I can only dream of, but only a fool wouldn’t see his motives. He’s desperate for his brother’s affections. The man he looked up to, wanted to be like, but has never been good enough in his eyes.

  Just like Thor and Loki.

  “I guess we’ll find out. But maybe you’re not the bad guy, Milo. Maybe you’re looking for something.”

  He leans in close, his eyes trained on mine. “Don’t try to see something that’s not there. You’ll only end up disappointed, just like everyone else. Now, grab your handbag, we have a trial to get to.”

  Chapter Ten

  Danielle

  “Are you ready?” Milo asks as we sit outside the courthouse.

  “No.”

  Is anyone ever ready to deal with something painful? That question always baffles me. When the doctor would tell the kids that they were getting a shot, he’d ask, “are you ready?” It was a stupid question. Of course they’re not ready. They knew it was going to hurt like a bitch.

  Just like this will.

  However, I’m not four years old. I’m an adult, and I have to take the pain.

  “Okay, then,” he says as he opens the door. I watch him walk around, opening mine, with his hand out. “Let’s go.”

  And face the man who destroyed my entire world.

  Not wanting to seem like more of a hot mess, I place my hand in his, and exit the car.

  Thankfully, since our exchange in the office, he’s been totally silent. I’ve been so lost in my thoughts. I sent a text to Richard but got no response. I’m not sure how I’ll handle it if the judge didn’t recuse him from defense.

  Milo keeps his hand on the small of my back as we go through security. As crazy as it is, I’m glad he’s here. I don’t know him well and that could be the reason why it’s comforting. There’s no expectations that I need to keep it together or fall apart. I can feel whatever it is I feel and he’s still going to show up for work.

  My stomach starts to churn as we stand before the doors. “I can’t do this,” I whisper.

  “You can.”

  “No.” I shake my head quickly. “I can’t. How do I not scream? Cry? Flip tables over when he walks in? How?”

  Milo takes my face in his hands and releases a heavy breath through his nose. “You should do those things.”

  “What?” I screech and grab his wrists, pulling them off. “What kind of advice is that?”

  He shrugs. “It would make the evening news. Maybe you could even go viral,” Milo smirks. “Think of the footage. Crazy lady in Tampa climbs over pews to attack the suspect, only to be carried out in cuffs. It would be rather fitting, don’t you think?”

  “Ass.” I can’t stop myself from laughing though.

  “I bet Ava would love that.”

  I cover my hand over my mouth to stop the giggling. “Yeah, she’d love her friends posting it and embarrassing her.”

  “See, two birds with one stone.”

  “Okay, so I should go in there, make a scene, and become internet famous?” I ask.

  Milo taps his finger on his chin. “I would be chuffed. With you in jail, I’m the next logical choice to get my job back.”

  I roll my eyes with a grin. “Well, anything to make life easier for you.”

  I release a deep breath and push the door open. My eyes stay down as I make my way to the first row and take a seat. Milo sits beside me, completely casual and unaffected. I, on the other hand, feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin. I look around, taking a moment to see the room. I’ve been here a few times, but it’s as if I’m seeing it with new eyes.

  The light oak wood covers the room with maroon accents. The judge’s seat is set high, showing his authority over the proceedings. We’re sitting on the right side of the courtroom, so I can sit behind the prosecution.

  I don’t see anyone from Peter’s office and try not to let my worry set in because there’s no one yet on the defense side.

  A hand touches my shoulder, and I jump. “Mrs. Bergen?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Rachel Harlow, the prosecutor on your husband’s trial,” she smiles. “Sorry to startle you, I wanted to introduce myself.”

  I look at the woman no older than twenty-nine years old with questions swirling. “I don’t understand, where is Joshua? I thought the district attorney was prosecuting.”

  She does the contrite lawyer look that is a mask to cover her disappointment. Peter invented that look. “He’s overseeing it, but considering the facts of the case, we’re very confident. There’s another associate counsel with me, so please don’t worry.”

  “Not a chance of that, Ms. Harlow. How many murder cases have you tried?” I ask.

  Rachel bristles. “This is my first, but I’m well-prepared.”

  Peter always said no one is prepared for a murder trial. While I appreciate her confidence, it doesn’t do anything for my nerves. She could be young, hungry, and ready to make her mark, but I would’ve preferred it not be my husband’s trial.

  She’s young, and I remember all too well Richard and Peter thinking they were hot shit when they definitely weren’t.

  “I just was expecting Josh, that’s all.” I give her a soft smile. “Who is representing the defense?”

  I know most of the law firms because they were Peter’s competition. He made it a point to watch other trials to see who was good and who sucked. Knowledge fueled his fire, and nothing burned his inferno more than another worthy lawyer.

  I say a prayer over and over to not be Schilling, Bergen & Mitchell. I’ll walk out, and Milo won’t be able to stop me.

  “I believe it was changed late last week,” she says as she opens her file, scanning the paper.

  It doesn’t comfort me that she doesn’t even know who she’s going to be opposing in the trial.

  “Danielle,” a deep voice says from behind.

  “Richard, are you?”

  “No,” he says immediately. “We’re not defending him. I wanted to let you know earlier this week, but I was in trial.”

  I guess calling me was too much trouble . . .

  “Richard,” Ms. Harlow says tersely.

  “Rachel.” No love lost there, it seems. “Are you prepared to win?”

  “I’m always prepared.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have the best record. I assumed that Joshua would be . . .”

  “He’s not. I understand you both know Joshua and he has an impressive record, but let me be frank, I’m just as good. I know the ins and outs. I’m well aware of the evidence, witnesses, and all the inner workings of this case. You can be assured that this case is my top priority. I knew Peter as well,” she looks at me with kind eyes. “We may not have been on the same team, but he was one of us. I don’t take this lightly.”

  “Thank you,” I say while squeezing my hands tight.

  The nausea I was battling grows stronger when she walks to her table. I sit here, singing some random song in my head to keep myself from passing out.

  Then, the side door opens.

  My head feels light and my hands are numb. Everything is hazy as he walks into the room. His hair is cut shorter than his mug shot, and he shaved. He’s wearing a suit that is a little too big on him, either he’s lost weight or it’s borrowed.

  I knew this moment would be hard, but I wasn’t even close to prepared.

  Tears form and I gasp when his eyes meet mine.

  “You can do this,” Milo’s deep voice says against my ears. “Don’t show weakness.”

  I turn toward him, letting Milo see the
pain that’s filling me. I can’t hide it, but I cannot let the killer see.

  Of all the people in the world, Milo is the second worst to see this side of me. He wants to take from me as well. He plans to strip me of something I love and want.

  However, right now, I don’t see that in him.

  “How?” I whisper the word.

  Milo’s eyes lock on mine. “You control it. You don’t show him you’re gutted. You show him he didn’t break you.”

  I close my eyes, harnessing any strength left inside of me.

  I’m not broken, I’m just in pain.

  I think about Ava and Parker. How strong they are and the way they got through it.

  A hand rests on my shoulders, and I quickly turn to find my three best friends sitting in the row behind me.

  “What?” I ask. “How?”

  I never told them. I knew what would happen if I did. They’d take off work, sit next to me, and be . . . well, them. My friends do too much for me as it is. I’ve relied on them for the last almost two years, and I didn’t want to burden them further.

  “You didn’t think we’d let you do this alone, did you?” Kristin asks.

  “But you have work,” I look at them. “All of you have other things. I didn’t want . . .”

  “No one in this tribe walks alone,” Nicole tells me. “You were stupid to think we wouldn’t find out.”

  Heather’s eyes are filled with love and a twinge of frustration. “I’m on the witness list. I was just waiting for you to tell us you needed us.” She looks to Milo and then back. “But I’m glad you had someone, even if it wasn’t us.”

  It’s not like that. Milo isn’t my someone, he’s my assistant who took it upon himself to be here. Probably to get dirt to use on me later.

  “Milo, didn’t—”

  “It’s fine,” Heather cuts me off. “We were glad to see you weren’t alone. Truly.”

  “Now I get it,” Milo says softly so only I can hear.

  “Get what?”

  His grin grows wide. “Why my brother moved to America.”

  The judge walks in and I don’t have time to reply.

  “Please rise,” the bailiff calls and we get to our feet. “The honorable Judge Evan Hellingsman presiding.”

  And so it begins.

  Chapter Eleven

  Milo

  I don’t know why I’m sitting here, wanting to comfort her.

  It’s unlike me in every way.

  Danielle has a life that I want no part of. She’s a widow, with kids, and it’s clear what type of life she wants to live. She wants the husband to adore her, raise children as a unit—well, that’s not me.

  I’m reckless in every facet of my life. I like adventure, sex, and having zero responsibilities. My family likes to say I’m immature, while I would rather say I’m stubborn and smart. Why tie myself down when I was meant to soar?

  Stupid really, if you think about it. I would be doing whoever was daft enough to love me a disservice.

  Danielle starts to fidget with her hands, and I cover them with my own.

  She looks up, and I squeeze a little. “Are you all right?”

  It’s clear she’s not, but she nods anyway.

  I move my hand back to my lap, pretending I don’t feel a protective urge when it comes to her. She joked about assaulting the bastard sitting on the other side of this railing, but it was me who had to grip the seat to stop myself from doing just that. The opening arguments were hard to listen to. They described Peter sitting in his office at his desk, how he was facing the photos that lined his desk with his family before him. The picture was clear, I would’ve thought I was there, watching this man walk in, raise his gun, and ending Peter’s life. When I saw her tears, I almost went into a fit of rage. It’s ridiculous that a woman I barely know makes me lose control.

  But here I am, sitting beside her, wanting to find a way to ease any of her pain.

  “Okay, I’d like to call a recess for the day. Trial will resume tomorrow at nine,” the judge says and bangs the gavel.

  Danielle shifts to face the three women, including my sister-in-law, behind her. They start to chat, and I sit here, berating myself for thinking any of this was brilliant. I should’ve stayed at the office and worked on outdoing Danielle. I shouldn’t be in a courtroom with her.

  I shouldn’t be doing a lot of things that I can’t seem to stop myself from doing.

  “Ready?” Danielle asks.

  “Yes, of course.” I get to my feet and follow her out.

  Immediately, the brunette hooks her arm with Danielle’s and makes her way forward. Nicole and another blonde are at the end. I start to move down the aisle, but someone grips my forearm.

  “Can I help you?” I ask Nicole.

  “What’s your game?”

  “Game?”

  The blonde huffs and crosses her arm. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t,” she warns.

  “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” I say.

  Nicole takes a step close, and though she’s much smaller than me, she’s quite scary at the moment. “She’s like a sister to me. She’s family.”

  “Well, dear sister-in-law, we are as well,” I point out.

  “But I like her.”

  “I’m wounded.” I clutch my chest.

  “Yes, you will be,” she threatens. “Heather is a cop and knows all the best places to bury a body.”

  I look over to the blonde who just nods with a smile. “Understood,” I say.

  “Good.” Nicole smiles and hooks her arm with mine. “Now that we’ve got that settled, tell me all the dirt on Callum that I can use against him later.”

  I laugh hard. “I might just love you.”

  She looks up with a grin. “I don’t doubt you will.”

  Seems my brother has beat me in yet another aspect of life. He’s found a woman who is clearly amazing.

  Nicole and I exit past where Danielle stands, her brunette friend comforting her. I try to imagine how today must’ve felt for her, but I can’t.

  This man knew her husband on some level. He was aware that Peter had a wife and family, but because he was facing a possibility of jail time and couldn’t handle his rage, he killed the person who was defending his worthless life.

  He’s a pitiful soul.

  “Thanks for being here,” Danielle says to her friends.

  “Of course we’re here, dumbass.”

  Danielle’s lip starts to tremble and a tear falls. “I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t know if I could do it, so if I didn’t tell you, it wasn’t real.”

  Nicole releases my arm and rushes to her. “We get it, but you never have to hide with us. If you couldn’t do it, we would’ve stayed at your house and watched movies.”

  Fucking hell. Who has friends like this? Not me, that’s for damn sure. My mates were more worried about beer and sex than even asking how I was after my father died. Callum was at university and thought I needed to step up more.

  No one understood how it felt or cared for that matter. I was filled with rage at the incident. I wanted justice, answers, for him to come back.

  I needed someone to give a damn, but they didn’t. So I got angrier, drank more, and gave the world the middle finger.

  I turned out just fine if you ask me.

  “I’m so sorry. I love you guys,” Danielle cries harder.

  Women.

  “I don’t know about all of you,” I say, breaking their tearful moment. “But I think we could all do well with a pint or two?” No one answers. In fact, they stand there as if I’m speaking another language. “You know, we should get pissed?” I clarify.

  Nicole shakes her head. “He means beer and drunk.”

  “You don’t have to stay.” Danielle comes close to me. “I appreciate that you came at all, Milo. I really do, but I can’t imagine you would want to stick around.”

  Here’s the out every man waits for.

  She’s gift wrapped it.r />
  And I’m going to return it—like a fool.

  “My treat.” I wink. “I insist.”

  Danielle places her hand on my arm, pushing me further back from her friends.

  “If this is some . . .”

  “It’s not.” I cut her off before she can say game or whatever other word she might come up with. “Let me do this,” I implore her.

  “Why?”

  That is the million-dollar question.

  Because I like her.

  Because she’s strong, resilient, and I see my life in hers.

  Which is a very bad thing.

  Chapter Twelve

  Danielle

  Why can’t I stop looking his way? Was Ava right when she said he was “sex on a stick hot”? I don’t think he’s ugly by any means, but . . . it’s been a long time since I looked at a man like that.

  Is it his personality that people are drawn to? My friends sure were laughing at his jokes, smiling with him, and having a good time last night. Not to mention the waitress who practically fell in his lap towards the end.

  They know he’s trying to take my job. I know this as well, but here I am, staring at him, trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me.

  “Can I help you?” Milo asks as he catches me.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re staring,” he calls me out.

  “I’m just trying to figure out something,” I confess.

  “Is it why I’m so deliciously sexy?”

  I laugh. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. Your mouth totally ruined that.”

  Once again, I really look at him, trying to see him through a single girl’s eyes. His scruff is a few days old, giving him a gruffer look than when he’s clean shaven. He definitely works out by the way his shirts fit, unless he buys them too small to look bigger. Heather’s ex-husband Matt did that, and we would all make fun of him for it too. I don’t think Milo would stoop to that level, but I wouldn’t put it past him either.

  “You think the accent is sexy then?”