DEFENSE

by Glenna Sinclair

  I faltered. This was the most Jessica had spoken to me since she’d come home, and she’d decided to sort of crack a joke about her near-death experience.

  “They’re common drugs,” I said as Jessica walked in and took a chair at the table. “All you’d have to do was Google whatever problem you think you have and they’d be among the first to pop up.”

  “I think you’ve got your case,” Jessica said.

  I looked at her, studied her face.

  “What?” she said, looking a little defensive. “You don’t have to look at me like I’m going to break. I’m fine. In fact…” She looked down and started picking the skin off her fingers. “I think I’m going to take Galiema up on her offer to represent me.”

  My stomach rolled with relief. I wouldn’t have to pretend to be interested in Nick to collect more evidence from his apartment. And Seb would get the comeuppance he deserved.

  “That’s great,” was all I said.

  I didn’t want Jessica to know how much it meant to me that she’d changed her mind. I also didn’t want her to feel guilty for the pain she’d put me through when she’d refused.

  She nodded. She wasn’t really one for apologies, or for admitting her mistakes.

  I looked at the clock over the sink.

  “I’d better go,” I said.

  I stood and left the apartment, my mind swirling with thoughts and emotions.

  ***

  Harrison was being held at the DC Central Detention Facility, a twenty-minute cab ride from my house. I used the time to call contacts who might be able to give me information about the findings in Shantelle’s toxicology report and who might corroborate my theory about how and why she’d gotten hold of the drugs without consulting her physician. I asked our investigator to look into the film studios she’d filmed pornos for and the strip joint where she’d danced. It felt good to finally have a potential lead, to be getting somewhere, even if Harrison didn’t want me on the case. Once I showed him the right kind of evidence and convinced him I was in a position to throw the DA’s plea bargain right back in their face, he was certain to rehire me as his lawyer. I felt relieved to have some good news for Harrison when I saw him.

  I arrived at the huge concrete prison structure with butterflies in my stomach. It was a formidable building, and I couldn’t bear the thought of Harrison being detained here.

  It had only been a few days, but it felt like months had passed since I’d last seen Harrison. We’d been granted a face-to-face meeting, meaning that, at the very least, we wouldn’t be separated by Perspex. I didn’t know how I was going to stop myself from touching him; my body was on fire with the thought of being close to him again.

  I was instructed to wait in the special meeting room while Harrison was fetched. The wait was the most agonizing of all, knowing I was so close to seeing him again. When the sounds of keys jangled in the door I leapt to my feet.

  The man they brought through the door hardly resembled the Harrison Wrexler I knew. He was a patchwork of blues and yellows, from fresh bruises and ones that had begun to fade. His hair had been shaved off completely. It took all my willpower not to rush over to him and cover him in kisses.

  “Katie,” he said as he shuffled into the room, weighed down by the heavy chains around his wrists.

  “They wouldn’t let me see you,” I said, trying to find the right words.

  “I know,” he said. “I know.”

  The guards gestured for us to sit down at the table in the center of the room. We were strictly forbidden from touching. It all felt so formal, with me in my black suit, looking every inch the lawyer. I pulled my tablet out and placed it on the table. I’d already received some information back regarding Shantelle’s possible prescription drug addiction.

  “What is this?” Harrison asked.

  “This is our new angle,” I said. “We need to follow up on why Shantelle was taking those drugs and how she got hold of them.”

  Harrison wasn’t looking at me. I wanted to touch him and tell him it was going to be fine.

  “I’ve gotten some great leads in the last half hour,” I said, trying to reassure him. “There’ll be more by the end of the day. Things are on the up, Harrison.”

  He clasped his hands before him and shook his head. “Katie, you’re not my lawyer anymore. I have a new lawyer.”

  “A state one? Harrison, you can afford better. Hell, I’ll do this pro bono if that’s the problem.”

  “That’s not the problem,” he barked, cutting me off. “I don’t care who represents me because it doesn’t matter. I’m still going to have to face a jury. I’m already being tried in the court of public perception.”

  He’d spent barely a week in prison and had already lost hope. I was scared for him. How would he cope in here for weeks leading up to his trial? Without Brent Johnson’s financial aid, the whole legal process had wound down to its usual agonizingly slow pace. It would be a long time before Harrison made it to court.

  “There might still be some room for negotiation with the district attorney,” I told Harrison. “Once we compile this evidence into a report they’ll see their case isn’t as strong as they thought it was.”

  Harrison could barely muster a smile. He didn’t believe me.

  “I can do this, Harrison,” I said. “I can get you freed and cleared. You just have to trust me.”

  “I’ll never be free,” Harrison mumbled. “Even once this is over, I’ll never work again.” He looked up, his eyes filled with pain. “I’ll be destitute. I’ll never be able to take you to all those places I promised.”

  I tipped my eyes up to the guards. I didn’t want anyone knowing that my and Harrison’s relationship had crossed over that forbidden line. They were gazing ahead, as though not listening. But I knew everything we said might come out in court and be used against him.

  “That doesn’t matter,” I said in a hushed voice. “We can think about all that stuff once we get there. For now, you need to stay strong. Can you do that for me, Harrison?”

  I watched him, filled with anguish. How was this the same man who’d brought me to the brink of ecstasy? He’d lost everything that reminded me of the Harrison I’d fallen in love with. He was a shell of the person I’d spent those two bliss-filled days with.

  One of the guards approached.

  “Time’s up,” he said.

  I looked at Harrison. He couldn’t even raise his head to meet my gaze. He just stood, completely resigned to his fate, and followed the guard to the door.

  “Harrison,” I said.

  As the heavy steel door creaked open, he looked back, setting my body aflame with his beautiful pale green eyes one last time. And then he was gone, led through the door and away from my touch.

  I fell back into my seat, reeling from the encounter. I vowed in that moment that no matter what happened, I was going to clear Harrison Wrexler’s name, and nothing would stop me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Harrison

  “Wizard!” someone shouted.

  I cringed and ducked down in my seat, hunching my shoulders as my nickname rang out through the canteen. A moment later, a plastic tray was thunked down in front of me. I looked up into the eyes of Lenny, Kyle, and Santos—the three Hell’s Angels who were obsessed with making my time in prison a living nightmare.

  “How’s the wizard today?” Lenny said with a sneer.

  I kept my eyes down, focusing on the penne pasta in the bowl in front of me. I ignored the impulse to run away. Where would I run to? You could only get as far away as your cell, and then there was tomorrow to worry about, and the day after. Running only ever made things worse.

  “Hey!” Kyle cried. “We’re talking to you.”

  My heart was beating hard. I tried to calm myself by transporting my mind elsewhere. It was a defense strategy I’d started adopting by accident, but the more days I spent in prison, the more often I would slip seamlessly into my own mind.

  This time, I was transport
ed to a creaky camp bed in a dark, tiny office. The sheets were twisted up and the scent of sex lingered in the air. There she was. Katie Scott, with her sharp, blue eyes and her shiny dark hair. She was naked, beckoning to me. I could almost touch her porcelain skin...

  Katie Scott—the lawyer I’d fallen in love with while on bail for a murder I hadn’t committed. The woman I’d turned my back on when I’d been re-imprisoned. It had been weeks since I’d last seen her. My mind, my heart, and my whole body ached for her. It took all my willpower to remind myself that it was for the best. I was looking at a life sentence; I wouldn’t drag Katie into that.

  A sharp pain across my face dragged me back to reality. Kyle had smacked me. I’d been so transported by my thoughts of Katie, I hadn’t even seen his fist coming for me.

  In an instant, the three of them launched at me. Fists pummeled into my sides, my chest, my stomach. I fell back against the hard, tiled floor and covered my head instinctively as blows rained down on me. A boot connected with my head, making black stars dance across my vision.

  From somewhere in the distance, I heard the shrill wail of the prison alarm system and the heavy-booted footsteps of guards racing towards me.

  The three men let off, leaving me cowering in a ball. A guard helped me to my feet. It was Derek, one of the guards who was friendlier towards me on account of him being a huge fan of basketball (though not the Washington Wizards, the team I played for). He started leading me away from the Hell’s Angels who were being held back and glaring at me menacingly.

  “Honestly, Wrexler,” Derek said. “If you keep getting into fights we’ll have to put you into solitary.”

  “Put me into solitary?” I said, wiping the blood from my split lip. “They’re the ones beating on me every five minutes.”

  Derek handed me a tissue. “I meant for your own protection.”

  I sighed and dabbed the bright red blood away. “I’d rather take the beatings.” I wasn’t sure how much my fragile mind could handle being alone in a bare, empty cell for twenty-four hours a day.

  “Well you don’t get a choice over that,” Derek added. “Making sure you’re not being beaten to a bloody pulp is my job. Right now, you’re making me look bad at my job.” He snorted a laugh. “How long ‘til your trial, anyway?”

  At the words, my chest clenched. I’d been trying not to think about the trial.

  “A few weeks,” I said.

  Derek nodded. “Getting anywhere with that lawyer of yours?”

  I’d taken on a new lawyer after realizing that I could no longer drag Katie into this. But his approach was leaving a lot to be desired. So was his demeanor. To be completely honest, the man was an ass.

  “I don’t know,” I said truthfully.

  “A man with your financial means doesn’t need to put up with a subpar lawyer,” Derek said knowingly. “Most the guys in here would kill to have their pick. Why are you putting up with him anyway?”

  As thoughts of Katie filled my mind, I shrugged.

  “Sometimes I wonder that myself,” I said.

  ***

  I was back in my cell, the door locked tight. It was a tiny space, just enough room for the bunk beds, toilet, and a small chest of drawers for me and my cellmate. The floor was tiled, the walls made of large breeze blocks painted with off-white, slightly shiny paint. The guy who’d had this bed before me had scratched graffiti into the wall—the names and birthdates of his children, happy birthday messages to them, and the occasional bitter rant about being in prison. The graffiti served as a reminder of how much I didn’t belong in here.

  My bunkmate was reading. He was an older guy. Quiet. We didn’t speak much. He wasn’t interested in my fame like a lot of the guys in here were. He kept himself to himself. The most I knew about him was his name. Mack.

  I laid back on my bed and stared up at the bed base above me. It was crazy how much my life had flipped around. Just weeks ago I was living in a swanky apartment and jetting across the US with my basketball team. Now I was sleeping on a hard, plastic-covered mattress and couldn’t set foot outside my cell for more than a few hours a day.

  There was a bang at the door. The small rectangular eye slot opened and Derek peered through.

  “Wrexler, you’ve got a call. Katie Scott. Want to take it?”

  Derek knew well enough that I wasn’t taking any of Katie’s calls. I’d lost count of how many times she’d tried to get in touch over the last few weeks. If it wasn’t daily calls, it was letters. My drawer was lined with them now, all unopened.

  “Take a message,” I said sarcastically. “I’ll call her back when I’m less busy.”

  “Sure, sure,” Derek laughed and the window shut with a clunk.

  I laid back down again, preparing to drift off into that meditative place in my mind, when a voice startled me.

  “Katie. Is that your chick?”

  It was Mack.

  “Er,” I said, sitting up, shocked to hear him speak to me voluntarily. “Not really.”

  There was a long pause. Then Mack added, “You know, you’re not going to get any more opportunities to meet ladies in here. If there’s one interested in you, you should get on it while you still can.”

  He fell silent, and the sound of him turning a page in his book told me he was reading again. His words lingered in the air like a pungent smell, permeating every corner, every nook and cranny. He was right. It had been so long since I’d even heard a woman’s voice.

  His words resonated with me, weakening my willpower. I leapt up and ran to the door, pummeling my fist on it so that the thuds echoed along the corridor.

  “Derek!” I shouted. “Derek!”

  A moment later, the window flap opened.

  “What, Wrexler?” Derek said. “I expect that kind of behavior from the other guys, but not you. What’s your problem?”

  “I changed my mind,” I said. “I’ll take the call.”

  Derek raised an eyebrow. This was the first time I’d accepted a call from anyone other than my jerk of a lawyer and my long-suffering mother. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew that Katie was important to me.

  “Come on then,” he said, opening up the door.

  I looked back at Mack. His face was buried in his book. He didn’t say a word.

  ***

  My palms were sweaty as I took the receiver in my hand. The first thing I heard was my name.

  “Harrison…”

  Her voice was as sweet as honey, sending a jolt of pain into my chest. It had been so long since I’d last spoken to her. Hearing her now made me realize how much I’d missed her.

  I could tell she was trying not to cry. For a lawyer, Katie wasn’t particularly good at holding back her emotions. I felt terrible for being the one to cause her so much pain.

  “I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

  I rested my back against the wall and tipped my eyes towards the heavens. The relief I felt as a result of communicating with her again was immense.

  “What’s happening?” Katie asked, sounding a little more composed. “The trial’s coming up. You’ve cut me off completely.”

  I fumbled over my words. “I took on a new lawyer. It was for the best.”

  “The best for whom?” There was a bitter accusation in her tone.

  She was pissed with me. Of course she was. I should have expected it.

  I sighed. “The best for you. I…I can’t do this with you because it hurts too much. Do you understand? I might be going to prison for the rest of my life. I don’t want you waiting for me.”

  I heard her sharp inhalation of breath.

  “I’ll always be waiting for you,” she said. “So you may as well just let me do my job. I can get you off these charges. I know I can.”

  I couldn’t bear the false hope she was giving me. No one could get me off. The evidence was too damning.

  “Katie…” I warned.

  She was having none of it. “Let me see you at least,” she interrupted. �
��If not as your lawyer or your lover, then as a friend. I care about you, Harrison. I don’t want you going through this shit on your own.”

  I felt a lump form in my throat. “I care about you, too. All I do in here is think about you, Katie. Every time I close my eyes, it’s your face that I see. Whenever things get to be too much, I think back to that weekend we spent in your office. Despite everything that was going on, those were two of the best days of my life. Getting to know you, exploring you...”

  “Harrison, stop,” she whispered breathlessly. “You can’t do that to me, it’s not fair.”

  “Do what?” I challenged.

  “Turn me on like that when you’ve already said you don’t want me.”

  I swallowed hard. Hearing her voice, thinking about her body, it was too much to resist.

  “Maybe,” I began, before pausing and thinking through my words. “Maybe I do want you.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Maybe?”

  I rested my head against the concrete wall, and pressed the receiver hard against my ear. I was being selfish, I knew it. But I couldn't help it. I needed her.

  “Not maybe,” I whispered. “Definitely. Fully. Completely. And it’s driving me crazy.”

  I could hear her breathing on the other end of the phone. It was shallow and fast, like she was becoming aroused by my voice. It was thrilling to know I had that kind of power.

  “But I can’t have all of you,” I added. “The most I’d ever be able to get is seeing you through glass.”

  “That’s not strictly true,” she said. “There is a way of making sure we’d be able to be in the same room together.”

  I knew what she was getting at. If I took her back on as my lawyer we’d be allowed to sit across the table from one another. We’d be given our own private room to speak in. There’d be guards, sure, but they’d be outside.

  “And then what?” I said, wondering whether it would be even more torturous to not have the glass dividing us, knowing I’d have to rely on my willpower alone to stop me from taking her in my arms and kissing every inch of her skin. “We still wouldn’t be allowed to touch each other.”