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I’m panting and shaking by the time I finish my rant, but I can’t help it. I’ve worked on hundreds of cases over the years. Most of the time, I defend those accused of huge crimes, such as murder or extortion. It’s part of my job, and yes a lot of times I work with the rightly accused. Some of my clients are terrifying humans, and I’d definitely prefer to avoid them, but unfortunately, it’s what keeps my place here at the firm. High-paying jobs with a lot of press and clout.
The other half of my cases are the ones I enjoy, where I’m defending small-time criminals, most of them being adolescents. You’d be surprised how often the law comes after kids and teens with petty criminal records like shoplifting for food, graffiti, or even stealing a car. It’s not that I don’t think those things warrant a correction or punishment, but fuck they’re justchildren.
Most of the time, they’re like Tinsley. Born on the wrong side of the tracks, with no one to have their back and nothing to their names. Broken homes, abusive parents, rapists, and alcoholics. Those who were meant to show them how to survive instead further destroyed them. Then, all of the sudden they’re 18 and told they have to figure shit out themselves…it’s disgusting and quite honestly, a back-asswards system.
How is anyone meant to survive that way, let alone thrive? They can’t, and if they do, they’ll likely give up a big chunk of themselves in return. Why would I let a kid flounder alone in this world if I have the power to help? The answer is simple; I won’t. Hence, my refusal to abandon Tinsley.
Her story is just as sad, if not more so than most of the young people I work with. Her first big, independent step out into the world, and she landed right in the grubby fingers of another sick fuck who not only sank his claws into her flesh but ripped her sweet soul and body to shreds. Something that he is continuing to do, even today, months after he tossed her aside like she was yesterday’s trash.
“I get it! It’s fucked up,” Addy shouts, equally angry on Tinsley’s behalf. “But, Rayvn, sometimes you have to know when to call it. There’s nothing more you can do for her. Sutton is burying this case, and if you don’t stop he will bury her also.”
My head jolts back as though I’ve been slapped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She scoffs, folding her lithe arms over the tight fabric clinging to her fake boobs. I snarl at her blasé attitude. I’m surprised when she doesn’t do the quintessential cheerleader hair flip in response.
“Come on, girl. I love you, but even you have to know she can’t come back from this. She’s twenty-five weeks pregnant, she said she’d get the amnio after the baby was born, and suddenly Sutton’s decided it’s now or never? Her and her baby’s health or the case disappears?” She shakes her head and looks away. “It's over.”
“You don’t know that. I can come up with another angle. I have to,” I protest weakly.
Even I know it’s not looking good for Tinsley. When I first decided to take her case, we had no idea she was pregnant and since she hadn’t gone to the hospital following the assault there were no samples taken or proof. All we had were Georgia Kingsley, the other victim’s, rape kits and the photo evidence of her attack, but even that disappeared. I know Sutton is well-connected, but I was sure DNA proof in the form of an actual living child would be irrefutable. Apparently not.
“I can’t believe the judge agreed to the ultimatum,” I choke out, feeling vomit crawl up my esophagus.
“Of course, you can. Judge Yaris was best friends with Sutton’s father. You’ll be hard-pressed to find an official in all of Colorado whoisn’tin his pocket. He’s had this shit in the bag from the moment Yaris was appointed to oversee the trial,” Addy interjects, looking at me as though I’m an idiot. Anger flares to life inside me, not just at her but at the entire situation and everyone involved. Sadly for my friend, she’s the only one within slapping distance.
“Let’s think about this reasonably,” Jackson cuts in, looking between Addy and me like he’s ready to intervene if this gets physical. I roll my eyes and drop down onto the velvet couch in the seating area of my office. As much as I’d like to hitsomething, I’d never actually hit her.
Well, probably not.
Addison takes my cue and straightens her white leather jacket before primly sitting down next to me. “We’re not going to fight, Jack,” she says softly. “This is all just friendly fire. Be a dear and grab us some coffee so we can brainstorm this together, would ya?” She bats her eyes at him coyly, and I barely contain a bark of laughter.
Jackson blinks a few times in surprise, then shoots her a glare as if he’s just woken up from her spell. “Adds,”he grunts with atskthat surprises me. “Enough.” His low growl of warning makes Addison immediately straighten up and drop the flirty manipulation she wears like a second skin. Jack smirks and nods. “Good girl,” he murmurs, causing both of us to rear back, a move he misses as he spins on his heel and leaves my office.
“What the hell was that?” I whisper-shout, watching his retreating form. Addison seems to have to shake herself from her own fog before turning a wide-eyed stare at me.
“Seriously. You saw that, right? Did he just—” she breathes.
I nod, squeezing her hand. “He did.”
“Dear Lord, I think I’ve met my match.” Our eyes are huge as we gape at each other before finally falling into a fit of laughter. “Oh, fuck, my panties are soaked.”
“I think mine are, too,” I giggle, crossing one leg over the other just for a fact check. My panties are dry as can be, but I enjoy her possessive glower all the same. When I’m pretty sure she’s only seconds from pulling aGollumand shoutingmy precious, I give her a friendly shove and fess up. “Jesus, Addison. Calm down. As much as I love a grunty and growly man barking orders at me, Jackson’s not my type. You can have him.”
She nods and breathes through her brand-new possessive instincts. I watch as her pale cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. She tucks her clasped hands between her thighs as her gaze darts to my door. She stares at the empty hall longingly. “That’s never happened to me,” she whispers, her voice taking on a tone of awe. “I’ve never let one of them boss me around before.”
“Men,” I correct. “Notthem.”
She pays me no mind as she continues her love-sick diatribe. “I’ve definitely never gotten turned on by one of them barking at me, either. I don’t like to be put in my place.” Finally looking at me, she shakes her head and swallows thickly. “How did he do it, Ray?”
“I assume he’s more Alpha than you, which is surprising to be honest. I was pretty sure you were hiding a massive set of balls beneath your pretty dresses this whole time.” She swats me across the chest, smacking me right in the boob. I grin and rub the throbbing flesh as I continue. “It’s not a big deal, though I have to admit, I never expected that from Jackson out of all people. Apparently, you bring something primal out in the man,Adds,” I drawl his nickname for her and barely dodge the second blow before she strikes my other boob.
“Anyways,” she hisses. “I’m not worried about you going after Jackson. I know your fifty shades of fucked up over your little online boyfriend.”
Now it’s my turn to blush and swallow my emotions back. Just the thought of him…Kill…has me needing to lock everyone out of my office so I can see just how wet my panties can get. Especially since that day. Shit, I haven’t been able to look at my desk the same. Whatever she sees on my face spurs her on. Addy claps her hands with glee and turns to face me fully. She kicks her heels off and bundles her long legs beneath her.
“Spill,” she demands, her face oddly reminiscent of a rabid dog. I swear, I see a drop of saliva forming at the corner of her botoxed lips. “Tell meeverything¸and leave nothing out.”
Groaning, I kick my feet up on my coffee table and drop my head onto the back of the couch. Staring at the charcoal grey ceiling of my office, I let my mind wander for the first time today. I try—I really fucking try not to let myself go there when I’m at work. If I did, I wouldn’t get a damn thing done, and I’d probably spend the entire day with my hand between my thighs. I don’t know what it is about him, but one word, and I’m a puddle of goo. It makes no sense. Beyond the cursory conversation about what led us both to the Kinksters app, our conversations have been everythingbutsexual.Except that once.I’ve never even seen the man’s photo.
