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“The truth—as much as I can without giving him false hope. I can’t lie about everything that’s happened. I need to tell his attorney what you remembered.” He glanced at her and shook his head. “No way. That place isn’t for you. And even if I did agree to take you, they wouldn’t let you in. The red tape you have to go through to get clearance takes around a month, and even then the inmate has to agree.”
He left unsaid that Quinten would be dead before then.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to go home and crash for a bit. Give me a call when you’re ready to leave tomorrow.”
He wasn’t the only one exhausted. “Okay.” She watched him leave, wondering if it really would take a month for her to get clearance to visit Quinten.
But if he had loved her, then he’d feel nothing but betrayal toward her now, and she couldn’t remember their love, so would it make any difference if she did visit him?
* * *
10:15pm
* * *
Quinten had finally written the letters that would be given to Alex and Saige after his death. Both of which had been difficult to write because he knew that when they read them, he’d no longer be on this earth.
He didn’t know how he was supposed to feel now, as he looked death in the face. His nerves were high and made him jumpy. Every clang in the prison made his heart race with fear that they were coming for him early…that he wouldn’t get his twenty-eight days. He was afraid. Anyone who said they weren’t at this point in their sentence was a liar.
He was terrified.
* * *
11:55pm
* * *
“What are you doing here?” Alex raised a brow and frowned when Fern Jordan dodged under his raised arm on the doorframe and slipped into his apartment.
At his brother’s defense attorney’s office, he’d expected the leggy woman to come and visit, but his horny ass wasn’t interested right then—revisiting his brother’s trial had a habit of killing his libido.
He slammed the door shut and leaned back against it while Fern stopped in the middle of his apartment. She turned and met his gaze and very slowly unbuttoned her dress. His eyes followed the movement of her fingers as they glided over the material, giving him a brief glimpse of what was underneath—nothing.
His mouth watered at the sight of her nude body, and he’d have to be a monk to not be tempted. He just wasn’t sure that using Fern for information in this way was such a good idea anymore, regardless of how much his body craved release.
“You’re not moving?” she pointed out, backing up to the dining table. “I think you need more of an incentive tonight.” Fern leaned over the table, spread her legs, and wiggled her bottom. “Remind me to tell you later about the new evidence that you should know about.” She smirked.
He prowled closer…
Day 6
8:00am
* * *
Saige took a tentative step into the police station where Detective Robinson now worked. From what she’d read, he’d worked there since Quinten Peterson had been found guilty. She may have read more into his move than what there was, but she really needed to know.
Was he the one who’d taken her statement? She kicked herself for not checking before she’d left home. She’d had a lot on her mind though.
Her dreams had been plagued over and over with the image of Quinten’s hands on her thighs. She tingled and felt scorched just from the memory. She craved more, and the craving for the rest of that memory had given her a headache.
“Miss Lockwood?”
Hearing her name startled her as she turned abruptly and nearly stumbled.
“Hey there.” The man reached for her arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay. I was just surprised at hearing my name.” She frowned up at the large man, and then squinted when another memory teased her.
