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She and I work together at the same law firm and have for years. Addy is one of the top prosecutors in the state. She has the highest imprisonment rate Colorado has ever seen. She’sthatgood. Our relationship is a bit of a dichotomy, honestly, considering we work opposite ends of the law for the most part.
I’m primarily a criminal defense attorney. A damn good one at that. Where she excels with the prosecution, I excel with the defense. I represent the accused, both wrongly and not. I’m in it for thewronglypart. It happens more frequently than you’d think. The only exception is that I refuse to defend rapists.
Refuse.
Past experiences with asshole men taking what’s not freely given have probably fueled that opinion. Or, it could just be the fact that I was raised by one of the most incredible, strong, fierce men I have ever known. My father taught me wrong from right. A lesson many are clearly lacking. I draw the line at representing them. Let's call rapists my hard limit.
Probably the only hard limit I have in life, if we’re being honest.
I silently scoff and roll my eyes at the direction my thoughts have taken. Addy doesn’t miss it, and apparently, it pisses her off.
“See,” she groans, throwing herself back in her chair dramatically. Bringing her wine glass up, she swishes it around, sniffs it, and takes a dainty, cultured sip. “You wouldn’t be smirking if you were actually listening to what I’ve been saying for the last ten minutes.”
Locking eyes with her, I pick up my white wine, making sure to wrap my fingers around the top portion of the glass instead of the stem, just to further irritate her. Her eyes widen. I don’t swirl. I don’t sniff. I don’tsip. If I’m spending one of my only free nights in a month at a bar, I’m getting drunk. Never breaking eye contact, I take a large gulp of the overpriced yet delicious nectar of the gods. Her wide eyes dart around the room as if to check and see if anyone notices my faux pas.
Setting the glass back down, I continue holding it incorrectly as I lean forward. “Brandt wants me to drop the Snow case. He wants me to walk away from it. He and the rest of the partners are afraid it’s bringing in too much negative attention. Harrison agrees. Lowell doesn’t, but he’s so far up Brandt’s ass that he’ll nod and smile just to keep himself in his good graces. Royale doesn’t care either way. She’s flippant. She’ll go whichever way the more powerful, influential wind blows her.”
I take another healthy swig before continuing, telling my friend all the things she thinks I’m unaware of. Just because I wasn’t nodding along like a puppy while she prattled on about the firm and how they’re five seconds from kicking me to the curb doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening. It means I can multitask. It also means I couldn’t give a single fuck what the firm thinks. Not only am I a partner in the large company, but I’m also tied with Addy for the highest-paid position.
Look at us. Women on top. Hashtag winning.
“The thing is, Addison—” I break off, waiting for her to acknowledge me. She takes another delicate sip and gestures for me to continue, an irritated but proud look on her pretty face. “They can huff and puff all they want, but I willnotleave that girl alone. I will not abandon her case, no matter who she’s up against. I will not stop looking for answers. I will not stop trying to put that motherfucker away. The partners can cry and bitch all they want, and I will lose neither check nor sleep from this shit.”
She barks a laugh, finally losing the sour, pinched expression that’s been glued to her face all night. She matches my position, leaning forward across the small bistro table, bringing us nearly face to face. Sighing, she shakes her head and glances away, focusing distantly over my shoulder.
“Look, Ray,” she murmurs, her voice serious. “I know you want to help her. I do. I get it. And I couldn’t be happier that you’ve joined my side of the law for this one, you know that. But—” she breaks off, meeting my eyes once more. “This could end badly. He’s powerful. The most powerful man in law enforcement in Colorado. The evidence was lost, and while we all know that’s bullshit, you can’t exactly make it reappear. Even if you could, he can’t be tried for the same thing twice. I don’t understand what your game plan is here.”
My smile is so wide I can feel my large dimples stretching across my face. Her eyes narrow, filling with a calculating gleam. She cocks her head to the side, giving methelookshe reserves for court when she catches on to something no one else has.
“You have something,” she mummers. I say nothing, my smile never wavering. “Something big.”
I shrug a shoulder, and my white blazer tugs with the movement. I’d much rather be drinking at home, on my couch, and in sweats, while I watch the latest horror flick, but she’d insisted on after-work drinks.
“Maybe,” I say noncommittally, though we both know I do, in fact, have something excellent hiding up my well-tailored sleeve.
Two months ago, Vincent Sutton, Colorado’s Police Commissioner, raped his 20-year-old office assistant, Tinsley Snow. Due to his position, she held back on reporting the crime. However, a chance encounter between her and another female, who had previously worked for Sutton, proved that what had happened was not an isolated incident. The first woman, Georgia Kingsley,hadgone to the hospital where DNA evidence was collected, but ‘somehow’ no arrests were made.
When the two girls shared their stories, there were an extreme number of similarities between the two. They decided to go to a police station a few towns away to report the crimes committed by the Chief. They were terrified, but together they were brave. Due to the evidence collected at Georgia’s exam, Sutton was finally arrested.
Enter: Me.
Vincent Sutton is a 56-year-old creep. Actually, he’s worse than that. He’s an abusive, gaslighting, misogynistic, chauvinistic rapist. He’s also an idiot. This fact was proven when he came tome, demanding that I be his attorney for the trial.
I told him where to shove it. He let loose a string of insults so vile that it almost had me going to prison for murder. Knowing that there was no way I could take him down from behind bars; I swallowed my rebuttal, tossed him a middle finger, and told him I’d see him in court. I left straight from that meeting, sought out Miss Snow, and told her I’d take her case pro-bono.
We bonded immediately. She may be 14 years younger than I am, but I saw something familiar in her that day. She’s a fighter. She may have been too scared, and rightfully so, to report the assault to begin with, but once she knew she wasn’t alone, she became a force to be reckoned with. And I will be damned if I let her down, even now when it seems all odds are stacked against us.
The first week of the trial, everything went to absolute and utter shit. Every single ounce of evidence we’d compiled, including timestamped recordings, particulates from the clothing worn during both assaults, and DNA evidence from Georgia, all disappeared. In the blink of an eye, they were justgone.
Given that every shred of evidence was digital, it’s not a far stretch to assume it was the work of a paid hacker. No doubt hired by Sutton himself. He’s a powerful man, as Addy unnecessarily reminded me. I’ve known from the moment the news was released that he was behind it. The case was ultimately thrown out when we couldn’t come up with any new evidence at the drop of a hat. Every single person in that courtroom knew there was foul play, including Tinsley and Georgia, but there wasn’t a damn thing we could do about it.
Since then, it’s been a constant battle with the media, as well as my firm, to keep the case going. The news wants to brush it under the rug, no doubt being paid off by Sutton. My firm wants me to leave the case alone, given the politics surrounding it. Even Georgia was so disheartened by the way things turned out that she’s given up and walked away. And maybe I would have also if it hadn’t been for Tinsley. But, as I said, we bonded. She got under my skin, and now there is no way in fuck I’ll leave her to fend for herself.
Especially given the new turn of events. Tinsley called me two weeks ago and gave me the unfortunate and devastating news that will change her future irreparably but will also give us a leg to stand on when I go up against Sutton again.
Tinsley Snow is pregnant with her rapist’s baby.
“Fuck, Ray.” The heavy breath Addy lets out draws me back to the present. I pull my gaze from the wine glass I’d been unknowingly staring at for who knows how long and meet her eyes. “You know I’m with you 100%. Whatever you need. You and Tinsley. I just want you to be careful.”
