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The words ripped him open and made him whole. He lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom, stumbling around Gus-Gus as he wove in between him, desperate to follow. He lay her on the bed, taking in her spectacular naked glory, and deposited the puppy outside the door.
“The things I’m going to do to you are too dirty for him to see,” he said with a low growl.
“Do them.”
And he did.
sixteen
The courtroom was the quietest loud place she'd ever been in.
She'd been in courtrooms before. Her father's world had always included them; the backdrop to every campaign promise and policy speech. She’d learned young it was the place where the real fights happened after the cameras stopped rolling. She knew each gesture and word was a story meant to gain not only attention from the judge or jury, but agreement. It was a quest for justice with two different outcomes.
But watching Owen was a whole different experience.
He sat at the plaintiff's table with his legal pad, hands flat on the table. His good black suit stretched across broad shoulders. There was a quiet intensity about him that screamed presence and confidence without being overbearing.
Her throat tightened. She was so ridiculously in love with this man. His heart and passion made her believe in all the good things in the world. Seeing him power his way through a trial, looking hot as sin?
Devastating.
Spagarelli sat in the chair with a permanent scowl and a too-large, faded suit. She’d had to clamp down on the rage that shook through her as Owen built his case witness by witness, evidence piling up in order to ask for damages in money rather than jail time. The main goal was to cripple the man enough to keep future animals safe from his grip.
Owen needed to make his one shot stick. For all of them.
His voice was calm rather than impassioned, and she remembered his advice when working a courtroom.
Let the evidence speak. You don't need to perform. You just need to be right.
She'd thought about that a lot; his sense of justice amidst reality-type drama. The judge was speaking.
Vivan sat beside her, reaching out to grip her hand as their Fate was handed down. Chloe’s breath caught as she waited for the verdict.
"...find in favor of the plaintiff on all counts. The court orders a permanent injunction prohibiting the defendant from owning, possessing, or having contact with any animal for life. Restitution is awarded in the amount of two hundred eighty-seven thousand dollars for veterinary and rehabilitation costs. Custody of all surviving animals transfers to approved rescue, effective immediately…”
“Hell, yes,” Vivian whispered, shaking her fist. The gallery responded, already full of animal advocates who worked tirelessly for this moment. People leaned forward, exhaling; the plaintiff's side erupted briefly before the bailiff called for order. At the table, one of Owen's associates grabbed his arm, and the young woman on his left emit a cry of relief.
After a few short exchanges, Own turned his head. His gaze crashed into hers, holding, and in those pale blue depths she caught a flicker of emotion that made her heart squeeze.
Not triumph. Not relief, though that was underneath it.
Grief, she realized. The knowledge this case was won but harm was done. Justice had been served but nothing changed the months those animals spent in the dark.
She nodded, acknowledging, then tilted her chin with determination.
It was enough. The rescued would be rehabilitated and loved. There would be no future victims because Owen and the rest of them had shown up and fought.
His face relaxed, as if he’d read her thoughts and allowed himself to settle.
His jaw worked once. Then he turned back to the table, composed and capable, Attorney Owen Salt who’d just won a case that would set precedent for animal cruelty statutes via civil suits. He accepted congratulations as he gathered his materials and began walking out.
He found her in the hallway outside Courtroom 4B. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, red coat over one arm. Her dark hair was tied back from her face. Ocean blue eyes clocked his every move as he closed the distance between them.
The hallway was chaos. Reporters at the building entrance, associates on phones, the Animal Defense Fund employees celebrating. Vivian and her team were in full launch mode to get as much publicity as possible. His co-counsel was already organizing the press statement. In twenty minutes he needed to be articulate and composed for the cameras.
But for now, he needed her.
“You did it.” Her smile broke through the weaker parts of him and made him strong.
