Tough Enough (Tough Love Book 3)

by Trixie More

  Can you breathe ten more times? No. Can you breathe one more time? Yes. Yes, I can. In, out—one. Can you breathe one more time? Yes.

  Behind him courtroom door opened and closed quietly. He glanced over his shoulder as he wiped his brow. An elderly Hispanic woman crab-walked slowly between the benches, taking a seat next to a shabbily dressed attorney. Doug looked forward. The door opened again. This time he didn’t look.

  The judge settled the bail request before him with a smack of his gavel, and Doug jumped slightly. The con sitting next to him made a disgusted face and leaned back with an arrogance that Doug knew was directed at him.

  Across the aisle, someone moved with confidence along the outer wall. A flash of ivory caught his eye, and he glanced over.

  Sophia. She settled gently in the second row from the front and set her purse on the bench beside her.

  Can you breathe five more times? Yes. He felt the muscles in his chest and back relax for the first time since he’d awoke this morning. Gratitude washed over him. Not for the information that she’d provided, though he was indebted to her, but rather for the calmness he finally, finally felt. He blotted his neck once more, turning to look at her. She was staring straight at him. It was the strangest damn thing. Looking into her eyes was an experience. He struggled to compare it with anything familiar. There was the understanding he felt when he connected with Tommy, but it wasn’t like looking at his one friend. Despite the compassion there, it was nothing like looking at Alice.. There was nothing brotherly in him when he looked this woman in the eye. The sensation was utterly unique.

  Unsettled, he looked away sharply. Why had Sophia done it? She’d made sure he knew she thought him guilty of assaulting Ed Walker. She’d been furious and hurt when he’d rejected her and they hadn’t said one word since. So why didn’t he feel that in her gaze? He flicked a glance at her, and to his relief, he found she had all her attention turned to the judge. She remained focused on the proceedings, and he found himself stealing quick glances at her. Long, soft hair waved exquisitely over her shoulders. Her face was sublime. All around her, men noticed her. He could practically smell their interest. What a pain in the ass that must be for golden boy.

  None of that really mattered to him. Janice had been beautiful beyond belief. His own father had been positively leonine in his missionary perfection. Beauty didn’t only go skin deep, sometimes Doug thought it might eat right into the bones of a person, like a cancer.

  This woman though, possessed something else, something he recognized—intelligence. Alice had that. She’d never pursued a career or education, but she had an innate ability to make sense of the world and rise above it. Doug had it too, but he honed his mind like a sword and he used it to gather unto himself more defenses—money, power, discipline, muscle. Sophia Moss was the most intelligent person in this courtroom and Doug knew it in his bones. Attractive was too small of a word for the pull that had on him. She was—kindred.

  Doug closed his eyes and leaned back against the bench, listening to the proceedings now, as he should have been doing all along, as she was doing. By the time his name was called, he understood enough about the judge to whisper instructions to William. His attorney’s eyes widened slightly and then he nodded, confidence on his face for the first time since they’d walked in. Doug knew exactly what they should say.

  “Your honor,” William began, “since the prosecutor’s office arrested my client, a number of significant factors have come to light. These factors, combined with the lack of motive and any evidence that my client even knew the deceased, calls the prosecution’s case into question.”

  “The victim had the defendant’s blood under his fingernails and strands of the defendant’s hair on his clothing,” the prosecutor said.

  “The victim also had several internal organs that were still frozen at the time of the autopsy and, the decomposition was significantly more advanced in outer tissue, indicating that the victim had been frozen and then dumped in the Hudson after being taken out of wherever his body had been kept. The victim’s wife states that the victim stopped texting her over seventeen months ago, and my client was only released from prison in September 2019 after serving two years. So at the time the victim stopped contacting his wife, my client was in jail. Freezing of the body explains the body’s condition. However, the blood and hair samples don’t appear to have been frozen, indicating that they were planted there to frame my client. Holding him in jail, without bail, would be cruel and unusual punishment.”

  The judge had spent most of the morning lecturing prisoners on responsibility in concise bullets of advice. William turned that penchant to their advantage.

  “Mr. Lloyd has a duty to participate in his defense. There is enough evidence here initially that reasonably puts the accusation into question. Mr. Lloyd wishes to have ample time and resources to help construct his defense, in partnership with myself. He can best carry out those responsibilities from his home, where he has access to computers and other resources. He is willing to put up a substantial amount of bail, in line with the amount your honor is comfortable with. His financial resources these days are such that complying with a bail request will be difficult, negating the flight risk.”

  The judge flicked a glance at Doug. The man was dispassionate, but not annoyed.

  “Your honor, we strongly request that he be remanded,” said the prosecutor.

  The judge glanced at his papers. “With the new evidence, bail is set at five hundred thousand.”

  He’d be walking out of here with his lawyer as soon as the bail was raised.

  “But don’t leave the city, Mr. Lloyd.”

  The gavel banged. This time, Doug didn’t startle.

  Chapter 17

  Sophia watched with satisfaction as the judge ruled in Doug’s favor. She wasn’t surprised. As long as there was enough money for the bond, most of the time, bail was granted, even for repeat offenders. Still, she was glad when it was official. He’d been distraught. That was the only word she could think of for the way he’d appeared when he was brought in. She’d seen him coming down the hall and had been so flabbergasted by his pale devastation that she’d had to compose herself before she followed him in.

  When he’d locked eyes with her, it was like the first time all over again, the electricity that seemed to build up when they were apart, was back. She hadn’t expected it. She’d kissed him, they’d fought, surely the attraction would be dulled, her natural frigidity back in place. Instead, the wild intensity was there again and with it, another feeling, a feeling of rightness. They were both here and safe. Everything would be all right. That wasn’t what she believed in her mind, but her heart, her heart seemed to have wakened from a fifteen-year slumber.

  She glanced over at him. He was speaking with William, and she knew there would be some paperwork. It would be awhile before he was free to leave. Sophia squeezed past the other observers and waited in the hallway until he came out. His attorney appeared first, Doug walking slightly behind, his gait rolling. She loved the way he moved. He was light on his feet, his legs just a touch bowed so that he always had a bit of swagger. His walk suited him so very well. Being free suited him so very well.

  As he came through the doorway, his blue eyes found her, the corners crinkling, his brilliant smile spreading on his face. His hair was the shortest she’d seen it, barely there, his beard the same, cropped as close as possible, which meant the dimples that creased his cheeks were on display. She wanted to run her hands over them.

  “Sophia!” William called out, waving at her.

  She stood.

  “Sophia, what a pleasure to see you,” William said. He clasped her hand in both of his. “I’m so grateful for your help, and I know your support has meant a lot to Doug.”

  “I can speak for myself,” Doug said, but he was smiling. “He’s right. I can never repay you for your help. Thank you.”

  “There’s no need,” she told them both, and she meant it. “It was the
right thing to do.”

  “Still, it means a lot,” William said.

  Doug’s face stilled, and he held her eyes. “It means everything.”

  Mesmerized, the way he looked at her, every nuance of his expression testifying to the emotions he felt, had her enthralled. This man wanted her, and it had nothing to do with her looks. The understanding was thrilling and petrifying.

  William cleared his throat and clapped his hands lightly. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just get the paperwork started. Doug?”

  “Hmm? Yeah. Let’s get going. Be right with ya,” he said without once looking away from her. “I’ll be home soon.”

  Sophia held out her hand. “Good luck.”

  Doug Lloyd, rapist, kidnapper, murder suspect, took her hand, and she hoped he’d never let go.

  “I’ll be home soon,” he said again, and his thumb stroked over hers.

  Twenty minutes later, she was back in her hotel room and nothing there suited her. She didn’t want food, didn’t want to work.

  I’ll be home soon.

  No, she wasn’t going over there. There was no reason for her to. She hadn’t made any headway on George’s case, other than she’d located the pretzel-eating overweight black man in a book of mugshots. His name was Samuel, and he had a history of working for organized crime. Was that something she needed to tell Doug tonight, in person?

  She flopped onto the bed, pulling her laptop with her. She should work. Needing her cell phone to get the MFA token to log into her work account, she got up and crossed the room to her purse. With her bag in hand, she was just a few feet from the door, her coat hung neatly nearby. She’d come here the day they’d kissed in the alley, the day she’d punched him. She shook her head. She’d been stunned when it happened. He’d grabbed her and it had felt frighteningly erotic, too immediate. After that day at the fair, she’d imagined everything that a man might do and visualized what she would do. She took boxing lessons and worked out and visualized over and over what she would do. She’d sworn never to be frozen into submission again. When she’d punched Doug Lloyd, no one had been more surprised than her. When he’d stood his ground, not apologizing, not simpering, not trying to please her, she’d gone stark raving mad for him. She loved that he wasn’t worried about making her happy. He was just himself, not some version of himself that was trying to win her. He wanted her, but he didn’t want to change for her. Sophia Moss loved that about him.

  She set her purse on the bed, went into the bathroom and touched herself up, pulled on her coat, and headed out into the evening.

  The sun was low in the sky when William dropped Doug off at his place. The doorman was a prick, as usual. Doug opened the door and rode the elevator up to his floor. His clothes stank, even though William had brought him a suit to wear, he could smell his nervous sweat on them. Doug opened the door and went straight to his bathroom, tossing his keys next to the sink. The shower brought with it the irony of repeating precisely the activity he’d been doing just before the police yanked him out of his home. With that done, Doug dressed and headed down the street to get a pizza.

  The blond with the piercings was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a tall, thin black dude waited on him.

  “Pie—ham and extra onions,” Doug said. When he reached in the pocket of his leather jacket, he found a pack of gum along with his wallet.

  He paid and held out the pack to the pizza dude.

  “Want one?”

  The guy shook his head, but he smiled, flashing a gold tooth. “No thanks, man. No good for the dental work.”

  Doug waited by the windows, chewing the gum. He was out. He was out, and he had Sophia to thank for it.

  While he waited for his food, he called Tommy.

  “Yeah, man,” Tommy said into the phone. “You out?”

  “Yep,” he said.

  “How much did that cost?”

  “Fifty large.”

  “Fuck.”

  “You got that. It was five hundred grand. I didn’t want to have that much tied up for the entire time if this goes to trial. Same with putting up the apartment. The mortgage will outstrip that if this goes a couple of years. Better off trying to sell the place.” Doug leaned against the wall across from the counter. Behind the register, the man with the gold tooth was endlessly working the dough, his arm making large circles as he spread sauce, added cheese. Doug looked away.

  “About that,” Tommy said. “I think I have a buyer.”

  Doug was silent. He didn’t want to move into Tommy’s building. It had seemed like a good idea at first, but it was too conventional there. Too normal. In some ways, it felt as confining as a jail. Wrong, nothing felt like jail. Moving there felt like he was moving into a life that wasn’t his. He cleared his throat. “Good. We need the money,” was all he said. Doug looked at the old black-and-white linoleum on the floor. He’d removed himself and his family from the shabby trailer his father had stashed them in like so much unwanted trash. He’d provided himself and all his family to the finest homes he could buy. His condo felt like a part of him. More than losing his money, Doug hated losing his home.

  By the time he got back to his place, she was waiting for him. His heart sped up. His home, his woman. Everything that a man was supposed to have was right here, and he was going to lose it all. Again. Anger, fast and bright, streaked through him. Sophia straightened, her eyes locked with his, her expression serious; her mind was already working out the math that was his mood.

  The doorman started to give them both his usual dismissive drama, but this time, Doug didn’t feel like taking it. Athena brought that out in him. She did that for him.

  Doug passed his brilliant strategist by and caught up with the doorman, turning sideways and putting a foot and the pizza box between the idiot and the rest of his short walk to the corner. Doug looked the doorman in the eye, the only movement the restless motion of Doug’s jaw as he worked the gum, flattening it in his mouth, laying it against his teeth.

  The snap was loud, and the doorman jumped, just a bit, just enough.

  “I got out of prison today,” Doug said. The man started to say something, but Doug beat him to it. “Open the damn door for her.”

  The doorman’s mouth drew up like a sphincter, but he damn well turned and let Sophia in. Doug caught the door with his foot, holding it open for himself.

  “You’re welcome,” he said quietly as he passed.

  “What?” said the doorman.

  “You still have your teeth.”

  He caught up with Sophia by the bank of elevators. She had already pressed the button for his floor.

  Doug stood just a bit behind her. She was looking straight ahead. He stepped forward. Her expression was relaxed, and something inside him loosened its grip.

  “That was childish,” Sophia said.

  He didn’t ask what she was talking about.

  “I had a long day,” he said.

  “So did I,” she said.

  He had no idea what her days were like.

  The elevator opened, and they got on. Doug sat the pizza on the floor.

  “What...”

  He walked forward, trying to back her into a corner, but she didn’t budge. If anything, she leaned toward him. He let his hands rest on her hips, looking into her eyes. “I don’t think you should come up,” he said. Of course, she should come up. She should start taking off her clothes right here and finish it before we shut the door to the apartment.

  “I don’t care what you think,” she said.

  He leaned forward to kiss her, but she backed out of his hands.

  “Pick up your pizza.”

  The elevator bell sounded, and he picked up the white and red box, following her out into the hall and then over to his condo. He opened the door, let her in, and then locked out the world. Doug dropped the pizza on the counter. By now, Sophia was all the way across the living room looking out the windows toward Jersey.

  Doug went into his kitchen and poured himself a scotch.
>
  “You want one?” he asked. He held up the bottle. “Japanese. Mizunara. It’s soft. You’ll like it.”

  Sophia leaned against the window but didn’t answer him.

  “It’s here if you want it,” he said and set the bottle and a glass on the counter. He took off his black jacket, tossing it over a barstool and walked into the living area.

  “Sophia, I...” She cut him off.

  “Do you have any single malt?” Her voice was imperious, snobbish, sounding like New York old money. The sound rankled him.

  “I’ve got that blend. Do you want it?”

  The corner of her mouth lifted so slightly, he thought he imagined it. Her eyes were appraising him as she unbelted her ivory coat, blinked slowly, once, took the jacket off and laid it on his recliner. Her eyes closed, opened, and she tipped her head. He walked toward her with his glass held out to her.

  Long fingers, pale fingernails, oval and perfect, laid over his hand. Together they raised the glass to Sophia’s mouth, with its full lower lip and wider upper lip, appearing just a bit—abused. His fingers tightened on the glass and she looked at him from beneath her eyelashes as she let the liquid slip into her mouth slowly, coating her palate. She lowered the glass, still covering his fingers.

  Sophia closed her eyes and tipped her chin up a bit, giving a satisfied smile.

  By the time she slipped her hand from his, he was fully ready, locked and loaded. He set the glass on the floor, stepped forward and threaded his fingers into her smooth, slick hair, sliding his hands from her temples to the back of her skull, bringing them down and back to her jaw. She’d stood by him. Sophia closed her eyes again and pushed into his left hand. He could hardly believe it.

  Doug stepped in close, and this time, she waited calmly for him to kiss her. The taste of the whiskey in her mouth, the feel of her delicate skin under his fingers, the smell of her perfume, Doug savored it all.