by Lauren Dane
It also didn’t help her sympathy when a vid crew had burst into the hearing she’d been in and shouted the news, asking for her reaction to it.
What it meant was that she would not be asking Roman to testify at Jaron’s trial. It would just add a level of sensationalism that wouldn’t be fair to Jaron or anyone else. It would also open Roman up to questions about his relationship with Abbie, because his truthfulness would be in question. And whether he’d lie to protect a lover would be reason enough to ask him about their affair.
So for the first time in her career, she’d let her personal life affect her professional life, and the guilt of it nearly eradicated her pain at not being with Roman.
“What the hells is wrong with you, Abbie?” Daniel walked into her house like he lived there.
“Why, hello, Daniel. I must have missed your knock.”
“I didn’t knock. I’m hungry. Got any food?”
She sighed and made him a sandwich. “Why are you here harassing me instead of finding a woman? Then you can harass her.” She put the plate down and he inhaled the food in minutes.
“Good gods, Daniel! You know I’d like to remind you your mother and sister run a café. You can get food with them if you feel unable to procure or make your own.”
He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and she grimaced, handing him a kitchen towel.
“I know. I was just there a while ago. You were the topic. Everyone is worried, so I was enlisted to come and figure out what your problem is.”
“Lovely. Look, I broke up with someone I love and he’s planning to marry someone else. It’s not a puzzle.”
“Abbie, you’re too thin. You look less than healthy and I know you, it’s more than the Roman thing. You can’t feel bad that House Kerrigan lost association. If you do, I will hurt you.”
She sighed and told him about the whole testimony thing.
“Oh, so you’re taking on the weight of this because you were in love with someone, did a favor for him and his friend by taking on this case. And because he is all-powerful and can’t be seen to touch unranked flesh, it’s your fault. I see. Makes total sense. Because this should be the fault of the unranked, too. Saul Kerrigan using his rapist relative to try and shake you. The tantrum he threw in public. The way he’s been planning with Licht to try and shove Walker and Pela from the Five. This is all your fault.”
“Daniel, how do you know about that stuff with Licht?”
“I just do. I’m telling you this because I want you to understand a few things. This shit is not your fault. It is Roman’s fault. He never should have touched you, but he did, and of course it got found out. How he thought people didn’t watch his every move, I don’t know. In any case, you have not endangered Jaron by this. Deimos knows him better anyway, you said. And you have many character witnesses. The friend of Jaron’s father isn’t as powerful a witness as the also powerful Ranked friend of Jaron who’s known him since they were tots. So stop taking the ’Verse on your damned shoulders. You aren’t that important, honey. I love you more than anyone else in the Known Universes, you know that. But you can’t make yourself responsible for everything because you actually allowed yourself to have a life.”
“What are you talking about? What’s that about Roman being watched? And—” Daniel put two fingers over her lips to silence her.
“Stop interrupting me. House Kerrigan are traitors. Period. Roman did the right thing, and while part of it was about you, it was the right decision. You need to eat more and sleep more and stop eating guilt like sweets. You are not responsible for everything in the world.”
She crossed her arms. “I do no such thing. I don’t take on everything that way.”
“You’ve been Dai’s chief apologist for many years. It took you this long to finally tell him to shut up and back off. No, I don’t know what you said but I’m glad you did. He needed to hear it. And for what it’s worth, I’m on him, watching him to be sure he keeps shut. Just, you know, live your life. Not with Logan. He’s a nice guy, but no matter what he’s doing now, he’ll cheat again if you take him back. But you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, and you are old enough to be looking for a man who’ll love you forever. Who you can build a future with.”
Abbie sighed. “You know, I’m not an idiot. I know you’re doing more than consulting with that security firm. Also, does Roman know people are watching him?”
“If you know what I am, stop talking about it. And I imagine Roman does now, yes. Now, you and I are going to eat a meal and then you are going to sleep. You have a big day tomorrow with the trial, and of course, in the wake of all of the Kerrigan stuff, the vid crews will hound you more. I’ve assigned someone to you; a bodyguard, if you like. He will be with you from the moment you leave here in the morning until you return. I’ve also got people outside.”
She stood up. “Oh, no, you did not! Daniel, this is silly. I’m fine. I know how to walk past a vid crew.”
He stood and took her upper arms. His features were taut and a part deep inside her felt fear. This was Daniel, her rock. When he was worried, things had to be bad.
“This is inevitable. So accept it. There’s a lot of stuff going on right now, Abbie. Dangerous stuff. You’re a target for those who are upset their way of life is being challenged. You’re a rabble-rouser, a small woman with a big mouth, and you’re trying to tear down their unquestioned rule. Worse? It looks like you may succeed and their precious House Lyons is protecting you. This puts you in danger more than you know, and I’m going to protect you. More than just me; this is from above me as well. I’m telling you because you deserve to know. Whether you like it or not, I don’t care.”
“Why, Daniel? This is ridiculous. I’ve been rabble-rousing for years. It’s my daily bread. All this is because I fucked Roman?”
He kissed her forehead. “Gods, you’re naïve. You know things are bad. You’ve seen the vids, you’ve read the ’Verse-wide feeds. House Lyons just disassociated a House. Things are dangerously unstable. And you, Abigail Haws, are a fucking one-woman conduit. For the unranked who are sick of waiting, for the Ranked who are scared of finally accepting that after millennia they have to share power and things will change. Hells, even for the Ranked who want the change. I’ve been out and among people. You haven’t seen it because you’re on the defensive over this affair stuff. Abbie, you’re a symbol. A folk hero, they used to call it.”
“Great, I’m a symbol.” She threw her hands up. “I can’t be a symbol. I’m too busy.”
He laughed and let her go. “Honey, better you than someone like Dai, right? Anyway, it’s you because you’re busy. You’re decent and honorable and you’ve spent your life helping people.” He tossed her coat at her. “Come on, Nyna is waiting.”
“You just ate!”
“That was a snack.”
A knock sounded on the door just as she was opening it. A courier stood there and another man loomed at the end of the hall near the lift. He nodded to Daniel, who’d shoved himself into the doorway. Daniel tipped his chin and then stood back. This would get old very fast.
“Are you Abigail Haws?”
“Who’s asking?” Daniel asked gruffly.
The courier produced identification, which Daniel didn’t even bother to let her see before handing it back to him.
“He’s legitimate.”
“Yes, I’m Abigail Haws.”
He handed her a thick envelope. “From the Ministry of Housing.”
She took the envelope and signed for it. The nervous courier quickly left and she stepped back into the flat, closing the door and locking it again.
“Why don’t I open that?”
She pulled the envelope out of his reach. “I have some suggestions about things you can do, if you like. At least I know it’s not a criminal complaint or a summons. Housing doesn’t send those,” she mumbled, slitting the envelope open and pulling the contents free.
After a quick view, she had to sit.
“
What? What is it?” Daniel practically danced around trying to see the papers she’d clutched to her chest.
“I’ve been on a wait list to get a flat nearer to a vent for three years. I apparently finally reached the top.”
“Why do you look so upset? This place is cold, you complain about it all the time. A building nearer to a vent means it’ll be warmer and you’ll have a better energy feed too.”
“It’s not just near a vent, it’s on a vent.” The thought of it, of the glorious heat in the cold season and the cool from the fans in the hot season, made her slightly giddy. But. “But, Daniel, the wait list for a flat on a vent is much longer than three years. And there’s more. I’ve received a higher water allowance.”
She wanted to cry at the kindness of the gesture. Not baubles, not dresses—heat and water.
“Why do you look like you’re going to cry? Gods, Abbie, just explain yourself, because I have no idea why you’d be upset about this. Who cares if you got bumped a bit? Come on! Do you have to be totally good every minute of your existence? Sometimes it’s okay to let yourself enjoy something, a bit of luck, if you will. Because we both know Roman did this. And so the fuck what? He loves you and he wanted to make sure you were warm. That’s what a man does. He takes care of the people he loves. Let him do this.”
Warmth replaced her sadness. He’d done this for her. A simple thing, and he’d done it because he loved her.
“I will.” She stood. “And you’re going to help me move next month.”
Chapter 31
Abbie saw Deimos in the antechamber of the courtroom. “Hello, Mr. Lyons. Thank you so much for coming down here today. I know you’re very busy.”
He stood when she spoke and bowed over her hand. “Of course. Jaron is a friend and he needs me. And you asked. All you have to do is ask, and if I can help, I will. By the way, I thought I’d tell you in person that the AC has decided to recommend your proposal up to the Governance Council at their main meeting in a week.”
She smiled at him, at that very good omen. “Thank you for telling me that. I’m thrilled that I’ll be able to take this news back to my organization.”
“An official notice has been sent to your office containing all the details. You’ll need to address the Council and be prepared for a question-and-answer period as well. It may be—rough from certain quarters. But I will be in attendance along with the other four main Houses the AC represents. We supported you, that is, those five Houses, unanimously.”
She nodded. He’d just let her know it wasn’t totally unanimous but the most powerful seats in the AC supported her. Okay then, she could work with that.
“Thank you for your help in this. There’s one person who needs to finish testimony once the break ends and then you’ll be up. You should be aware that my relationship with your father may come up. Just be honest and don’t let the inquisitor goad you. She’s that type, but you’re a Lyons.”
He smiled and she saw his father in that unguarded moment. Abbie fought touching him; she’d grown fond of Deimos, not just in her limited dealings with him but through his father.
“Someone will come to retrieve you. You can stay in the room after you’ve finished, if you’d like.”
Roman watched Abbie question her witnesses. Watched each one of them paint a picture of the same boy he knew so well. At first he’d been hurt when Marcus had relayed that she didn’t want him to testify after all. But then after Marcus had begrudgingly explained why and then told him how badly Abbie felt, how she’d felt personally responsible for hurting the case, his hurt had turned into anger. Silly woman had no idea how much she did for people.
Deimos came into the room and Roman liked the ease with which his son inhabited his own skin. Deimos wouldn’t be a good leader some day—he was a good leader now. He’d step into his father’s shoes with confidence.
The questioning went well until the inquisiton had its turn to address Deimos.
“How do you feel about Ms. Haws?”
Abbie simply sighed and stood. “Mister Adjudicator, the defense objects. Mr. Lyons’s feelings on me are not relevant.”
“But they are. It goes to the witness’s motivation in testifying here today,” the inquisitor said.
“Ms. Proctor, I will give you very limited leeway here. I don’t like where this is going, so you’d better be sure it stays on track. Or you’ll spend the night in lockup.” The administrator looked to Deimos. “Answer the question.”
“Objection, Mister Adjudicator,” Abbie interjected calmly. “The question is very broad.”
“Indeed. Rephrase the question, Ms. Proctor.”
Abbie sat and Roman saw a slight upturn to the corners of her mouth.
“Mr. Lyons, would you say you were friendly with Ms. Haws?”
“I’m friendly with many people.” Deimos cocked his head as if he didn’t understand, but Roman knew he did.
“Be that as it may, it’s a yes or no question.”
“Yes, I would say I was friendly with Ms. Haws on the few occasions I’ve dealt with her.”
“Would you do things to make her happy?”
“Things?”
“Would you alter your testimony for the sake of her friendship?” Marcala Proctor finally asked.
One of Roman’s brows rose at the woman insinuating his son would lie or that Abbie would seek to have him do so.
“I am a man of honor, Ms. Proctor. As it happens I’m fortunate to have known Jaron Mach over the course of pretty much my entire life. It is nothing but my honor to stand up here and tell the adjudicator what a good and kind person he is.”
“Yes or no, Mr. Lyons. Would you lie to protect your father’s mistress?”
Abbie stood and objected. It was only Marcus’s hand on his leg, pushing hard, that kept Roman from standing as well.
The courtroom filled with outraged whispers and derisive tones until the adjudicator banged his gavel and spoke loudly. “Order! There will be order or I will empty this room right this instant.”
Abbie walked around the table. “Mister Adjudicator, I object to the words used in the question. Furthermore, I’d ask that the inquisitor be advised to be a professional or face sanctions.”
The adjudicator looked at Ms. Proctor, who suddenly seemed to realize she’d gone too far. There was no peer panel in this trial; the adjudicator would decide. A man who’d spent most of his adult life as not just a barrister but as an adjudicator.
“Yes. Except Ms. Proctor has had”—he looked down and shuffled through some papers—“four such warnings for her unprofessional conduct. Therefore I will fine her one thousand credits and find her in contempt. I’m also placing a notice of this in her file and recommending to her superiors that she enroll in a professional responsibility course. Now, the next step is five thousand credits and three nights in lockup. Let’s consider this closed. You asked if he’d lie, he said no. If you can prove your assertion, if you have one, through accepted avenues, please do so. Until then, this line of questioning is closed.”
The rest went more smoothly. She had nothing really, and after she tried her little stunt about Abbie, all Deimos did was look even more earnest and paint Jaron to be more like a good, gentle boy.
“Thank you, Mr. Lyons. You’re dismissed.”
Deimos came to sit next to his father and Abbie caught Roman’s gaze for one very long moment.
Abbie simply accepted that she’d always love him, and why not look? He was just right there, after all. So close that in two steps she’d be able to touch him. Stupid Marcala. The woman had been thrashed by Abbie in three of the four times they came up against each other, and she still didn’t know Abbie at all. All that little stunt did was make Abbie angry. And when she got angry, she only wanted to win more.
She brought the two boys she and Roman had interviewed that day—it’d been so carefree then—to the stand and made no attempt to hide their histories, giving them no reason to lie and also giving Marcala nothing to try to prove
.
When they’d ended for the day, all that was left were closing statements to the adjudicator. She’d already prepared her final brief. The case was ridiculously circumstantial and Abbie couldn’t see, other than a rush to take someone into custody that first night, why they’d gone forward. It was a very weak case. It wasn’t often as a barrister representing the accused that she got a case like this. Most of the time it looked pretty bad for her clients. Perhaps it was the gods making up for taking Roman from her.
Roman paced in his bedroom. Seeing her that day had stirred him up immeasurably. Seeing the love in her eyes as she’d finally looked at him, really looked at him, had shaken him, shaken his resolve to break off contact.
He sat back at his desk and looked out over the gardens in the grounds around the house.
He picked his pen up again and began to write.
Abbie,
When I saw you today, saw you in the courtroom so strong and self-assured, all I wanted to do was stride up that aisle, grab you and take you far away.
I wanted to rip the clothes from your body to expose your bare skin to my mouth, my hands. I wanted to touch you the way only I know how to touch you until you began to make those needy sounds that make my cock so hard.
You’d look up at me, eyes wide and seeing right to my very soul, and you’d give yourself to me. You’d hold your thighs open while I ate your cunt, making you come on my lips over and over again.
And then when you thought you had nothing left, I’d take you from behind. Lay you flat on your belly and slide your leg up high just how you like so much. I’d give you my weight to let you know it was real, to let you know I was your man there to fuck you for as long as I wanted.
Your cunt would welcome me, slick from orgasm, hungry for my cock and I’d thrust, fast and then slow. That wet sound of fucking would wrap around us as I entered you over and over.
I’d do this to you for days. Just gorging myself on you, letting you sleep here and there and taking you again once your eyes opened.
