I reload my gun so I have something to do with my fingers. “I think I’m going to need a different lawyer,” I say, even as my heart jolts at the thought of meeting a different lawyer. Fuck, maybe I should just break the fucking law and skip town.
“Why? She seemed like she knew what she was doing. What happened?”
My head whips up at his words and I narrow my eyes at him. “You really didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
I scoff. “Maeve Halloway. She’s the daughter of a prosecutor who was connected to my case the first time around.” I sigh. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me, Prez?”
His face shows his shock, and I realize it’s true—he had no idea. “I didn’t know, man, I swear. Just heard that she was making waves as someone young and fresh who would have the energy and the know-how to take on your case.” He turns away and walks to the wall, his eyes troubled. “And she knew the whole time?”
I hesitate. “Well, she said she didn’t know until she saw the case file.”
Saint nods. “So, maybe she isn’t anything like her father.”
“Fucking hell, Prez!” I growl, kicking the wall as I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know what to do. I was just so angry, so I left, but…she’s not her father, I know that. I don’t think she even talks to him that much.”
I should have seen it this morning too. The regret on her face. The way she was willing to reach out and use whatever connections she had to help me.
“All I knew was she graduated summa cum laude, top one percent of her class, so she’s got more brains than most of the other the criminal lawyers I know,” Saint says. “I figured if anyone could get you out, it would be her.” He smirks and adds, “And if you fall in love with her too, that’s just killing two birds with one stone.”
“That’s not—fuck!” I curse when my phone starts vibrating in my jacket. I grab it, intent on ignoring whoever’s calling until I see Maeve’s name flash on the screen. Guilt at how I left settles in my chest as I step away to take the call.
“Hello?” I whisper, waiting to hear her voice. She’s the only one who can silence the demons that have surfaced in my mind. Only she can heal them. “Maeve?” There’s silence at the other end, so I pull the phone from my ear to glance at the screen, but the call is still connected. “Maeve, baby—”
And then I hear a familiar voice coming through the phone, but it’s not Maeve.
“So what, you think you can report this and get me arrested? You think I’m going to let you threaten me, you little bitch?”
My blood runs cold. The voice is male. Cold. Hateful. Just as I remember hearing it five days ago. And ten years ago.
“Trigger.” I look up to meet Saint’s questioning look, his brows arched in concern. “Is something wrong?”
I don’t respond, but instead put the call on speaker. Saint’s eyes harden when he hears Gareth’s raging voice. “He fucked my Anya! God knows how long she’d been having an affair with him, and I was expected to just let her go? Anya is mine. I won’t go to prison. I’ll get her back. I’ll travel to wherever the fuck she is and I’ll get her back. I won’t let you send me to prison, bitch!”
Saint grabs his own phone and types furiously, shooting a series of texts to someone, but I don’t wait to find out who. I grab my phone and start for the door when Saint stops me with a hand to my shoulder. “I just texted Ransom to hack into your phone and record the conversation. We’re going to need it as proof,” he murmurs, keeping his voice low.
“I don’t fucking care about proof right now,” I hiss, shrugging off his hand. “I need to get to Maeve before that fucker hurts her.”
He nods. He would understand. He has a woman of his own who he would protect with his life, and Maeve is mine. I’ll be damned if some crazy fucker takes her from me.
Saint says, “Text me her address and we’ll have the guy closest to her building get us surveillance of her apartment. We won’t let him get away with this.”
I nod, grabbing my loaded gun and slipping it into my waistband. It seems I’m going to use the 1911 after all, and on the man I have a vendetta against.
If he dares lay a hand on Maeve, Gareth Jones will regret the day he met me. I will burn him to the fucking ground and follow him to hell to finish the job.
He’s dead the second he touches my attorney.
Chapter Nine
Maeve
I’ve made mistakes in the past—none as grave as this one.
I blame my bruised heart for blindly rushing into a decision, but I wanted to fix this for Trigger. I thought bringing my father into the equation would help smooth things out, and now we’re both sitting on my couch, staring at the uniformed madman pointing a gun at us. The evidence and papers I presented to both of them are scattered all over my living room floor, torn apart then stomped over as if that’s going to erase the evidence.
“Gareth,” my father says calmly. “Put the gun away and let’s talk calmly about this.”
