by Chloe Walsh
My heart cracked.
“Hey, look at me.” I tugged on her chin. “Princess, look at me.” Her eyes lifted, locked on mine, and my whole body ignited in excitement.
This time tomorrow she would be mine.
Jesus, her fragility was one of her most pungent weapons and she didn’t even know it. “I can’t fucking wait for tomorrow to come,” I told her, stroking her chin with my thumb. “If I’ve made you feel like anything less than the most important person in my life these past few months then I’m so sorry, baby.” Stepping closer, I pressed my body against her and cupped her small face in my hands, forcing her to keep her eyes on mine and hear my words. “Because you are the most important person to me Lee.”
“I love you,” she whispered, catching me unaware when she threw her arms around my neck. “Oh god, I hope I’m not dreaming.”
I laughed at her random statement and folded her into me. Stroking her hair with my hand, I slipped my arm around her back and held her to me. “Well, if you are then it must be a pretty fucking amazing dream to last two years, baby.”
“I pinch myself most mornings,” she confessed in a hushed voice. “I wake up every morning and look at you lying next to me.” She shook her head and stretched a small hand up to cup my cheek. “I don’t know how we got here or why we were given this path we’re on, but I want you.”
“I want you, too, princess,” I choked out, my voice hoarse and thick with emotion. “Just you.” Always fucking you . . .
“There’s a fire,” she whispered as she stepped back from me and pressed her hand to her stomach. “It burns inside of me. You ignite it and it spreads wildly, taking me over.” Reaching out with her hand, she grabbed my coat and pulled me back against her. “And when it all becomes too much,” she murmured. “And I don’t think I can take any more, you quench it all with your words, or your touch or one single look. The power you have over me, the depth I’m after falling . . .” Shaking her head, Lee sighed softly and wrapped her arms around my waist. “You’re fuel to my fire, and when I’m close to exploding you quench my flames. You are a very dangerous man.”
If I was dangerous then Lee was lethal. Her words . . .
Holy fuck.
“Uh . . .” I tried to come up with something fucking epic to say in return, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t think of damn thing to say.
So instead, I lowered my head, claimed her lips with mine, and showed her.
Darkness is a strange thing. It comes in many different forms. Most people believe darkness is created when the day meets the night, but I know better. Darkness also exists in humanity. In human beings. I know this because I have felt it, touched it, tasted it, been attacked by it and possessed by it . . . and now my darkness awaits me once more . . .
“Open the door, Lee.” The achingly familiar voice broke into my thoughts, disturbing me from where I’d been furiously scribbling down my thoughts in a notebook in a bid to keep calm. Taking a few deep breaths, I fanned my face with my hands, blinked away my tears, and shoved my pen and notebook into my purse.
Standing up slowly, I unlocked the toilet cubicle door and tried to suppress the smile that was stretching across my face at the sight of him in the ladies bathroom, lounging against the communal sinks, with his hands tucked in the pockets of his gray suit pants. “You know you’re breaking the law, right?” I mused. “You could be risking your freedom as we speak.”
“You know I never play by the rules, princess,” Kyle drawled, his lips curling into a lazy smirk. Even though we were having the day from hell, and the weight of the world was on our shoulders, I couldn’t help but admire his beauty.
He looked so handsome with his dark hair tousled, his black tie loosened and looking worse for wear, the sleeves of his crisp white shirt bunched up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms and the light sprinkling of dark hair coating them. He’s why I’m here, I thought to myself. Is he worth it? Yes. My answer was immediate and irrevocable. He was worth it all and more.
“Well, you’re certainly in the right place,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light, and bury the huge swell of anxiety threatening to burst out of me. “Boys who break the rules in this place get punished.”
Shrugging nonchalantly, Kyle pushed away from the sink and prowled towards me with a predatory gleam in his blue eyes. He’d lost his jacket somewhere between our home and the courthouse, but I was just glad it was his jacket he’d lost and not his temper. “You’re so fucking worth it,” he purred. Grabbing my hips, he hauled me into his arms. “I want you to remember something for me,” he murmured against me ear. “Can you do that for me, baby?”
I nodded my head as I wrapped my arms around his taut waist. “I’m scared, Kyle,” I confessed.
It was a closed courtroom and all I wanted to do was get in and get out as fast as possible, with as much of my sanity intact as I could. This wasn’t a day of retribution in my eyes. This had nothing to do with Cam. This was a dark, black day, laced with corruption and very little to do with justice and I was still upset with the prosecution team who had bullied me into doing this. I’d appealed to do this via video-link, but they’d manipulated me by using Cam against me. They felt my evidence would have more of an impact on the jury when they could see me and if I truly wanted to see my friend’s murderer put behind bars I would do it . . .
“Don’t be,” Kyle said in a gruff tone, tightening his hold on me. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you, but I want you to remember that no matter what happens in there . . .” He paused to kiss me softly. “Nothing changes between us.”
Cupping my face with his hands, he pressed his forehead to mine and stared into my eyes. “My past is my past, baby. I can’t change it,” he husked as one of his hands trailed around to the back of my neck. “They’re gonna lay it all bare today to upset you—to rattle you. They know they’re screwed. You’re the golden ticket. They’re going to strike at your weakness. They think that’s me. Prove them wrong, princess.” He rubbed my nose with his. “Today is just one day, baby. One day in our lives, that’s all this is . . . and when we walk out of this courtroom today, we’re stepping into our future. We’re leaving all the past behind us.”
“I know,” I whispered, clutching him tightly. We’d been forewarned by the prosecution that Rachel’s defense team were going to attack our relationship. We were also praying that this was the only day we would be called to the stand. Kyle had already given his evidence, but for some reason—a calculating move by the defense in a bid to unnerve me—he had been called back today. This was my first time in court, and according to Lorrie Manson, the prosecuting attorney, I would be either their ace or the joker. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it didn’t warm my heart.
The only thing that was keeping me sane was the fact that by the end of today, I would be Mrs. Lee Carter.
My stomach did somersaults at the thought. This was right. He was right for me, and if I could just get through this, if they got all they wanted from me, Kyle and I could walk away from this mess and never look back . . .
“Keep calm out there,” I whispered. Reaching my hand up, I stroked his hair gently. “They’re going to use me against you, too. Don’t rise to their bait.”
“No regrets?” he asked, his chest rising and falling harshly. “Any second thoughts about later?”
I shook my head. “Never about you.”
“Are you sure you want to get married today?” Frowning he added, “I don’t want to deprive you of anything, Lee. You know, the whole white dress, huge cake and party full of friends.” He kissed my lips softly. “We’re only doing this once, princess,” he told me. “And I want it to be everything you’ve wanted.”
“We’ll do this on our own, Kyle,” I whispered. “We’ve done everything else that way. We don’t need a party. Or a cake.” I smiled up at him. “I just want to marry you. You and me. Oh, and maybe Derek.
“You sure?” he croaked out. �
�You won’t change your mind when we get there?” He shook his head and sighed deeply. “I thought girls loved all the wedding things . . . You confuse the fuck out of me, princess.”
“Well,” I mused in teasing tone of voice. “Didn’t you once say I’m not like most girls?”
A huge grin spread across his face. “Well,” he purred. “Maybe tonight, when you’re my wife, I’ll persuade you to take a shot with me, sweetheart . . .”
Curling his fingers into my hair, Kyle crushed his lips against mine, searing me with his passion, tormenting my senses with each thrust of his tongue. I kissed him back hungrily, desperately, as I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on for dear life to my anchor.
Hoisting me into his arms, he wrapped a possessive arm around my back, leaving his other hand wound in my hair. “I’m in love with you, Lee Bennett,” he whispered between kisses. “Only you and don’t you forget it.”
“I don’t want your past, Kyle,” I mumbled against his lips as I clung to his big body. “I want your future.”
“It’s yours,” he promised.
We were still clinging to one another when there was a knock and Kelsie slipped her head around the bathroom door. She cleared her throat and said, “You’re up, Mr. Carter.”
“Define your relationship with the defendant, Mr. Carter?”
“A mistake,” I spat as I glared across the courtroom at Rachel. Her hair was tied back off her face in a severe looking pony-tail, her face void of the layers of make-up she used to plaster herself with.
She wasn’t shaking.
She wasn’t even frowning.
The woman just sat there like a zombie, with her green eyes locked on mine and I refused to look away. “She was the biggest mistake of my life,” I repeated, directing every word at her. She flinched and I was glad. I wanted her to hear the hatred I felt for her, feel it in my stare. I wanted her to hear my goddamn pain.
“Could you please answer the question again, Mr. Carter?” her defense lawyer, who I had mentally nicknamed Sharky—asked sardonically. “This time with facts and less feeling.”
“Where do you want me to start?” I snarled, breaking eye contact with Rachel to glare at the shark in a gray suit smirking at me. I’d done my research on this douchebag. Marshal Bale, with his strong jaw, beady blue eyes and rapidly receding head of gray hair, had graduated top of his class from Harvard law school—when I was just a twinkle in my dear old daddy’s eye—and in the last nine years he hadn’t lost a single case. He handpicked his clients and tended to take the high-profiled cases.
Well good for him, I couldn’t wait to smash his bloody record. I’d bet my left nut that his designer suit was paid for with money from people just like Rachel. Murderers. Murderers who were walking the streets because of him. I wondered how the hell Rachel could afford someone of his prestigious caliber. Rachel came from a middle-class family and I was surprised her parents could afford the services of the notorious Marshal Bale.
“Perhaps at the beginning,” he responded in a condescending tone. “And remember you took an oath to tell the whole truth, Mr. Carter.”
Taking a deep breath, I clenched my fists and bit back the retort that was halfway out of my mouth. I fucking hated that Lee was here and had to listen to this, but I was compelled to tell the truth. Think of later. Think of later . . .”I met Rachel during my first semester of sophomore year.”
“Details, Mr. Carter,” he prompted impatiently.
“I was having lunch on the quad with my friend, Derek Porter,” I ground out through clenched teeth. “And she happened to cross my path. We got to talking and I took her out on a date.”
“Did Miss Grayson seek you out, Mr. Carter?” he asked. “Or was it you who did the chasing?”
“I had just turned twenty, Mr. Bale,” I snarled, my feet tapping rapidly against the timber floor of the dock. “I didn’t know what I was walking myself into when I asked her out.”
“Would it be a fair statement to say you were sexually attracted to Miss Grayson?” he asked steadily.
“Yes,” I grudgingly admitted, my eyes seeking Lee out in the crowd. “But that quickly changed.” When I found Lee, the pain in her gray eyes took the air out of my lungs as I watched her cling to Derek.
“Were you physically intimate with Miss Grayson?” Sharky asked.
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” I demanded. Jesus Christ, this was so wrong. All I’d done to Lee, all Rachel had done to her, and she had to sit here and hear the gory details. I felt sick with guilt.
“Just answer the question, Mr. Carter,” he sneered.
“Yeah, I was physically intimate with her,” I snapped. “Happy?”
“How many times?”
I shook my head and gaped at him. “What?”
“How many times did you have sexual intercourse with my client, Mr. Carter?” He smirked and strolled over to his colleague sitting at their desk. Glancing briefly at the paperwork on his desk, Mr. Bale turned his attention back to me, smirking cruelly. “Once? Twice? More than fifty?”
“I don’t remember,” I sighed as I rubbed my brow in frustration. “I have a habit of repressing life-scarring memories.”
“A rough estimate then?” he tossed out airily.
“Jesus Christ, are you serious?” I demanded. My eyes landed on Kelsie, who nodded her head slightly, warning me to answer. I exhaled roughly. “Four or five times a week for two years. You do the math.” Bale’s brow rose in surprise, his eyes gleamed in victory and my stomach sank with the realization that I’d just walked myself into his trap.
“Two years,” he repeated in feigned surprise. “Did your sexual relations with my client overlap with your sexual activities with your roommate, Delia Bennett, in those two years?” Shrugging with indifference he added, “I’m merely asking because the dates don’t quite add up, Mr. Carter. There seems to be a significant period of time, five months to be exact, where both Miss Grayson and Miss Bennett claim to have been your lover . . .”
“Yes,” I hissed in defeat, bowing my head in shame. I couldn’t look at Lee. “Yes, they overlapped.”
“Two women,” he gasped in an astonished tone. “Were you also involved with the deceased, Camryn Frey, during this time?”
“No,” I choked out in barely contained fury. “How the hell can you ask me that?” My eyes flickered to Derek and thankfully his glare was directed at Marshall Bale and not at me. “She was like my sister,” I snarled.
“Forgive me for my misjudgment Mr. Carter,” he apologized. Walking back to his desk, he picked up a sheet of paper and cleared his throat. “I simply asked because I have sworn affidavits from five other women who claim to have had sexual intercourse with you during the same period of time.”
Clearing his throat, Bale read from the page in his hand with relish. “Gemma Perkins. Candice Herron. Hannah King. Bianca Johnson and Lauren Parker.” Smirking he asked, “Ring any bells, Mr. Carter?”
“Objection,” Lorrie Manson, attorney for the prosecution roared. “Your honor, I fail to see how Mr. Carter’s sexual history has anything to do with the case in hand.”
“On the contrary, your honor, my client was involved in a relationship with Mr. Carter for two years and his sexual indiscretions have been found, as you already know, to have triggered her anomalous behavior on the night of June twenty-eighth,” Marshall Bale countered with ease.
“Overruled, Counselor Manson,” the judge said calmly. “Answer the question, Mr. Carter.”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Are you saying that all five of these women are lying?” he asked sharply.
“No, I’m not saying they’re lying,” I said in weary tone of voice. I was so fucking disgusted with myself for my pre-Lee behavior that I felt like I was going to puke. “I’m saying I don’t remember their names.”
“That many, huh?” Bale sneered. “So many you couldn’t bother to take note of their na
mes?”
“Yes, that fucking many,” I shot back angrily.
“How many of these women did you impregnate, Mr. Carter?” he demanded. “How many of these women did you promise fidelity and marriage to?”
“One,” I snarled, chest heaving, as I tried to keep my ass on my seat. “Just one.”
“Are you sure about that?” Bale asked scornfully.
“Positive,” I shot back.
“Then you’re a liar,” he hissed.
I’d had many moments in my life when I’d felt like I was dreaming. This was definitely one of them. Sitting in a crowded courtroom, listening to my best friend’s sex life being picked apart and laid bare, had to be one of the most surreal moments of my life.
I felt numb.
I felt like I was watching a goddamn circus, where Rachel’s attorney was the ringmaster and Kyle was the caged lion, being whipped and lashed mercilessly. Only once, in the last two hours, had I heard Cam’s name mentioned. I thought that was a pretty big fucking joke in itself considering it was her murder trial.
Cam’s parents, Ted and Mora, were sitting a couple of rows behind me and I couldn’t look at them. I knew full well the grief-stricken expression on their faces would be enough to make me crack. One look at Cam’s mom and my heart would rip in two. I was still hurt as hell over the way they’d treated me during her funeral. They’d had Mike sit with them—fucking Mike Henderson—when I’d been the one who’d taken care of their daughter for the best part of nearly three goddamn years. No, I would never get over the sense of betrayal I’d felt when I’d seen him sitting with Cam’s parents the day of her funeral. Where the hell was Mike now? Moving the hell on, and me? I was still stuck in goddamn limbo. Yeah, it was getting easier, more bearable, but my feelings were the same. I was still in love with their daughter–still in love with a dead girl . . .
