The Price He Paid

by Jean Brashear

  She was terrified of falling, sliding down that peak. She’d been kidding herself and playing house these past few days with David. Pretending that there could be more for her than the job that was the sum total of her, the burning ambition that provided the only warmth in a life constructed on cold calculation.

  Her job might have lost its shine even before she’d faltered.

  But it was all she had.

  Callie stepped from her car in the hospital parking lot and felt for the first time since she’d arrived back in Georgia a return of her strength. She had been Lady Justice before; she could be again. All she had to do was lock up the past and throw away the key. Never let herself be touched by it again.

  Just as she would never be touched by David again, not in the physical realm nor in the swamp of emotion that posed such a danger to her.

  If her heart quailed a bit at the notion, she ruthlessly stamped out any weakness. She couldn’t afford it. She would never survive if she let herself think about what she’d lost here, in this place that seemed destined to forever haunt her.

  Outside the three-story red brick building, Callie drew in a deep, steadying breath.

  Then marched inside to tie up one last loose end before she would leave Oak Hollow forever.

  She shuddered a little as she made her way down the beige hallway, the sting of disinfectants the strongest note in the powerful bouquet that was a hospital. She thought back to the pale, fragile figure she’d clasped while waiting for the ambulance, every second a tick of fear that she’d wind up telling David she’d killed his mother.

  Though how that could have provoked a much worse reaction from him remained to be seen.

  Not fair, Callie. He’s given up everything for her.

  She couldn’t think about David anymore, how badly she’d blundered with him. Instead she braced herself for the wraith she would find as she pushed open the door to Delia’s room.

  But if she’d expected a fragile, clinging victim, she was dead wrong.

  “Is David out of jail?” demanded Delia. She was still pale, still hooked up to an IV, but the moment Callie entered, she used the controls to raise the head of her bed, never taking her eyes off Callie. “Where is he?”

  “He’s—it’s—He’s still there, Delia.”

  “Why? I told you I did it. Why haven’t they let him go?”

  “It’s not that simple. He’s already served his time for Ned Compton’s death. He’s in jail because of the assault charges. He’ll have to have a hearing on the most recent one.”

  “Why haven’t you gotten him out on bail, at the very least? He shouldn’t be in there. You know what being locked up is doing to him. Do I need to pledge my house? Will that help? Go back and tell them I’ll give up whatever I have. He’s not the guilty one, I am.”

  The intricacies of the legal system were clearly lost on his mother, and that wasn’t the point of this visit anyway. “I’ll make his attorney aware of everything I know. He’ll be back in two days.”

  “Two days? My son can’t stay there that long. You do it. You know how.”

  Callie’s shoulders sank. “He’s refused my help. He—” Hates me, she almost said, but that was between them. “I’m leaving town. He’s been very clear that he wants nothing else to do with me, and frankly I can’t blame him.” She looked straight at Delia. “I’ve fought him at every turn, I haven’t listened to anything he’s asked. I owe him more than that after all the harm I’ve done.”

  Delia’s gaze bored into her. “So you’re just going to give up?” She leaned forward, her face pale but her eyes burning coals as she gripped Callie’s hand. “You could actually walk away and leave him in jail? What kind of person are you?”

  I don’t know, she wanted to cry out. Had she ever known who she was, except a child who wasn’t wanted, a girl who caused trouble…a woman who kept herself apart from everyone who might matter? She tore herself from Delia’s grasp and began to pace. “Delia, he can’t stand the sight of me. He’s—look what he did to save you, and now he’s furious and worried sick that you’ll go to jail, too, that I’ll destroy you where Ned Compton couldn’t.”

  At Delia’s gasp, Callie turned, hurried over. “You won’t, Delia, I swear it. I’m going to hire you the best lawyer in the state of Georgia, and you’ll be fine, I promise.”

  “I want you.”

  “What?” Callie shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. I’ve told you I can’t—Delia, I’m not a defense attorney. Even if I were, I can’t practice here, I explained that.”

  “You said you could work with someone who is.” Green eyes so much like David’s looked up at her from a face shadowed with exhaustion yet burning with an inner resolve. “I can get a loan on my house and hire you if that’s what it takes.”

  “No! No, of course you can’t do that. I don’t want your money, it’s not that, it’s—”

  “Don’t you love my son?”

  The question was so simple it stole her breath. She should have had to think about the answer.

  But even after all the antagonism, she didn’t. “Yes,” she said softly, then louder. “Yes, I love him, but—”

  “Then who could defend us better?”

  There was one possibility called pro hac vice in which Callie could petition the court for permission to practice for one particular case in a single court, but there was the rub—one case, not two. Delia and David should have different counsel anyway to protect each of them to the maximum. She could try one case and assist on the other, but defense wasn’t her expertise and how she could she gamble with either of their lives?

  “He won’t want me,” she pointed out.

  “Leave that to me. You just go to work getting him out of jail and finding someone who’s licensed in Georgia. Couldn’t Albert Manning do it, if you’re calling the shots?”

  Callie looked at Delia with new respect. Great minds think alike. “He could. If he will, that is.”

  “Don’t lawyers argue for a living?”

  Callie stared at the woman emerging before her. This was the Delia who’d spent her life fighting to make a future for her son, the one who’d created the golden boy.

  But then she remembered the shuttered man, the one who wanted her out of his life.

  Haven’t you done enough damage?

  “I can’t, Delia.”

  “What? Are you serious?”

  “I don’t mean I won’t help, but I—I have to leave. My job—I could lose it. I can’t stay here any longer.” At Delia’s protest, she raised a hand. “I’ll talk to Albert before I go, tell him what to do right now. He’ll have suggestions for the best person to represent David. I’m also hiring a lawyer for you, though I don’t think a good prosecutor will want to take you to trial. But—” she locked eyes on Delia “—David’s right. I’ve barged in, with the best of intentions maybe, but he craves control over his life after all the years he’s had none, and I’ve undercut him, thinking I knew better.”

  Stony silence, but no argument. Callie continued. “He deserves at least that respect. However wrongheaded I think he’s been, I understand it, don’t you? He’s a noble man with more inner strength than anyone I’ve ever met, even you. Which is really saying something.”

  Delia’s mouth curved slightly but her eyes were worried.

  “I’ve hurt him too much, Delia, first when I derailed his plans back then because I craved what I sensed in him—his strength and his goodness. I’ve been doing it again because I needed to prove myself. Wanted to be the one rescuing him this time.” Callie had to look away, blinking rapidly. “However angry he is about it, his secret is out, and it’s the key to saving him. I’d give a lot to be the one doing it, but love, what little I understand of it, means not barreling over the person you care for.”

  “Callie, how could anyone defend him better than you?”

  Callie started to speak but couldn’t. After a moment she gathered her composure. “I’ll monitor each step, I promise. I�
�ll spend every last penny of Miss Margaret’s estate to make sure he’s a free man and that you’re taken care of, too. I wish—” She struggled past the lump in her throat. “I wish it could be me—goodness knows I owe him—but that debt is exactly why I have to walk away as he wants me to. Everything I know about goodness begins with that boy who stood beside me, and to hurt him any more than I already have…”

  She couldn’t stay any longer. “I’ll set everything in motion immediately, and if you need me, here’s my card. I’ll put my cell number on the back. If you have the slightest worry, you don’t hesitate to call me,” she said fiercely. “I won’t let you down, I swear it. Whatever it takes. And I won’t let him down, either.”

  Before she fell apart completely, Callie thrust her card into the woman’s hands and raced out the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It had been the longest night of his life.

  He’d had some bad ones before—that first night in a cell as a scared kid, shaking inside so badly he was afraid he’d break down and embarrass himself.

  Or the one right before he’d known he would be locked up for fifteen years—no high school prom, no graduation, no college, no football.

  No future.

  That first night at Jackson, the one that could still make him shudder in sympathy for that poor mixed-up kid who’d held on to the image of his mother safe in her bed. That image was all that had gotten him through the nightmare of the tattooed hulk in the bunk beneath him, the sounds all around that he couldn’t begin to block out.

  Enough. He would rejoin that world soon enough. Callie could say all she wanted to about saving him, but he was past redemption now. There was a fire deep in his gut that would never go out, a burning anger that nothing on this earth seemed able to smother.

  He stared at the dark, cracked ceiling and wondered how his life got so screwed up.

  I can save her. I can save you, too.

  Oh, Callie… For a moment he stopped resenting her, the criminal waste of what she’d done. Thought about that one night they’d spent together until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

  All that was over with and done. There would be no rescue for him.

  Happy endings were for other people.

  Now he just had to figure out how to limit the damage to his mother. He should have made Callie swear she would never tell a soul about what she’d heard.

  He could take being locked up. His mother couldn’t.

  And damned if he’d allow his salvation to be the instrument of her destruction.

  He thrust himself from the cot and began to pace. When was his sorry attorney coming back? His fingers molded into a fist as he eyed the wall and wished he could just flail away at it, pound out the rage that simmered within him as he recalled the hurt on Callie’s face, thought about his mother lying in a hospital somewhere—hell, he didn’t even know where she was and she might die from all the strain, frail as she was.

  His shoulders hunched and he raked his fingers through his hair.

  “Langley. You got visitors.”

  He wheeled. “What?”

  “Yeah. Come on.”

  David had lost all sense of time, but it couldn’t be much past dawn. “Who is it?”

  “Your attorney. You comin’ or not?”

  He exhaled in a gust, worn from the sleepless hours. “Yeah.” He steeled himself to argue his mother’s case, should Callie have interfered already.

  Please let me fix this.

  Brown eyes, deep wells of pain.

  Leave me alone, Callie.

  Ruthlessly he strangled all thoughts of her and walked toward the cell door, already extending his wrists for the bonds that he’d better get used to.

  Christ, he was so tired.

  A few moments later, the deputy led him into the same interview room that was inextricably tied with Callie for him. He glanced around, almost hoping…

  Of course not. To his regret, at last she’d listened.

  Then the door opened again, and resignation was replaced with shock. “Mom?”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” His mother crossed to him.

  “What are you doing here?” He held her at arms’ length. “You should be in the hospital.”

  A second figure entered the room.

  “Mr. Manning.”

  “Hello, David.” The older man, usually stiff with disapproval of him, seemed mired in regret. “Your mother and I need to talk to you.”

  David glanced back and forth between them. He leaned near his mother and whispered. “You haven’t told anyone, have you? Please, Mom—”

  She gripped his hands, and he could see the sorrow as she took in the sight of the cuffs. “Everything’s going to be all right, sweetheart. Come sit.”

  He remained standing. “Where’s my attorney? What are you doing here?”

  Manning sighed. “First of all, my deepest apologies. We all have done you a grievous wrong. As for Ned…”

  David’s head whipped around. “You told him?” he accused his mother.

  “David, I couldn’t let you suffer anymore.”

  “Mom, no!” The cry was dragged from the depths of his soul. He glared at the attorney. “She’s lying. Don’t believe a word she says.”

  The older man eyed him with sympathy and what might be fondness. “Callie said you would try to deny it, but it’s too late, son.”

  David closed his eyes. Felt the avalanche crashing down upon him. Suddenly so weary he couldn’t stand, he sank into the nearest chair and let his head fall into his hands. Where did he go from here, when all he’d given up was now rendered meaningless? “Damn you, Callie,” he murmured.

  “Don’t you dare, David William Langley. Don’t you curse that girl. Do you not understand that everything she’s done is because she loves you? She’s fighting for you—are you just going to give up?”

  Why shouldn’t he? “It’s no use, Mom. I’m an ex-con, about to go to jail for the second time. I’ll forever be marked. There’s nowhere up from here, don’t you get it?” He sat up straight and leaned closer. “Please don’t tell anyone. What happened stays inside this room. I can take it—I’ve learned how to survive in there. You couldn’t. It would kill you. You have to leave this alone.”

  “Callie says she can get me off.” His mother’s expression showed the first strains of doubt.

  “Callie’s gone. We’re on our own, the way we always have been. You have to leave this in my hands. I can’t take chances with you. Look at what happened already—you wound up in the hospital. Do you honestly think you can take the pressure of a trial?”

  She gripped his hand. “My poor boy. How much you have suffered, all because I was weak.”

  “It’s okay, I can handle it. Please.” He included both of them in his request. “Just let this go.”

  “No, not anymore. Sweetheart, don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself? You’ve lost so much of your life, but you don’t have to sacrifice anymore.” She squeezed his fingers. “I know trust comes hard now. Anyone would feel that way in your place, but, David, your heart has been scarred enough. There’s a woman out there who desperately wants to help you, if only you’d let her. Can’t you, just once, lean on someone else?”

  He looked at her, stunned. He thought about the pain on Callie’s face, the slump of her shoulders as she’d left, believing he hated her. However hard he’d tried, the bleak hours of soul-searching last night had taught him that one thing he could not do was hate Callie Hunter.

  Could he actually take that leap of faith?

  And was it fair to her if he did?

  “She’s been hurt, too, Mom. And she has a life elsewhere.”

  His mother drew a card from her purse. “Albert, do you by chance have a cell phone?”

  The older man nodded. “Despise the damn thing, but my son insisted.” He drew it out of his pocket and extended it to David.

  “On the back of this card is Callie’s cell phone number. Will you give the future a chance
?”

  Two faces watched him, willing him to accept. Wasn’t calling her only setting them both up for more misery?

  When did you become such a coward? The thought stopped him in his tracks.

  He dropped his head. Stared at the metal binding his hands.

  He’d long ago lost faith in a world that was fair. Had closed himself off from everyone and everything because the price of caring was too steep, wielded a killing blow.

  But within him was one tiny seed of the boy he’d been, the one who’d had limitless faith in himself and his ability to conquer anything.

  This point, he sensed, was where that seed had a chance to grow…or died forever.

  If—and only if—he could take a leap of faith that seemed taller than the highest mountain.

  He thought about the one night he and Callie had loved with their bodies. The moment when she’d whispered I love you and he’d never answered…because he wanted it too much.

  But how could he drag her any deeper into the tangle that was his life?

  Please…let me fix this. Mournful brown eyes.

  There was no certainty that she would want a life with him, that there was any future they could ever share. He didn’t understand her world, and he worried about the cost to her of getting involved with his.

  But, whispered that tiny seed, there is no chance if you don’t try.

  He lifted his head and focused on the card in his mother’s hand.

  He looked at Albert Manning. “Are you sure my mother can come out clean?”

  “It’s not my field, son, but Callie swears it’s true. She plans to do everything in her power to make it happen, including devoting every cent of Miss Margaret’s inheritance if that’s necessary.”

  Oh, no. No. Not only her career but her financial future on the line. How could he possibly—

  Lean on me, she’d asked on that magical night. He could still feel her warmth around him. The scent of her skin as her hands eased him, soothed his soul.

  Depending on anyone else went against every instinct in him.