As Cooper returned to his desk, David said, “He assaulted her that first night.”
“Mark?” Cooper asked, rubbing an eyebrow.
I nodded. “He tried—”
“He put his hands on her and left marks,” David said, his chair creaking as he sat forward and then back, unable to get comfortable.
“Mark said he wanted Bill to get his brother out of prison,” I explained.
“Lou’s serving a life sentence. Why—and how—would Mark think Bill could do that?”
“Mark said he and Lou committed the same crime but that Bill must’ve ‘fucked up’ and got Lou a worse sentence.”
Cooper’s pen flew across his notepad. “Sounds like Bill did exactly what he was supposed to.”
“He takes his work seriously,” I said. “He worked really hard on that case.”
“Yeah. Good guy far as I know.” Cooper glanced at David, whose uncharacteristic silence did nothing to dampen his presence. “What else?”
“After that, I didn’t hear from Mark again,” I said. “Until now.”
“We’ll come back to that night. What happened next at the office?” Cooper asked, eyes on his notes. “When did he put his hands on you? Be specific.”
I steeled myself to recount everything, but the words wouldn’t come. Why not? I’d been spared. David had prevented anything bad that might’ve happened.
When he visibly tensed beside me, I wondered if I should make him the leave room. He seemed to be struggling with his own internal monologue. “Are you sure you want to stay for this?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Take your time.”
I just had to relay the facts. That was all. With another breath, I said, “Mark wasn’t there to warn Bill. This time, he wanted to send a message. He ripped open my blouse. When I screamed, he hit me across the face.”
With a knock at Cooper’s door, David shot up from his chair. Mumbling to himself, he strode to the back of the room and whipped open the door. A short, elderly woman with a pitcher and three plastic cups stared back at him.
“Thank you, Sally,” Coop called.
David took everything from her, shoved Cooper’s files aside, and nearly slammed the pitcher on the desk. After pouring a glass, David handed it to me.
Cooper watched all this with narrowed eyes, then turned to me. “Do you think Mark’s intent was to scare you or to sexually assault you?”
“What the fuck does it matter?” David barked, back to pacing. “What kind of question is that?”
“Details,” Cooper said simply. “They matter. Intent matters.”
“I should’ve shot the motherfucker.Fuckhim,” David said as he grabbed the back of his chair and slammed it down. With athunderouscrack, two of the legs broke off, and the rest toppled onto the ground.
Cooper jumped up, his office chair rolling back into the wall of books. “What the hell—?”
“Sorry.” David tossed the broken legs into the trash and sat against a windowsill, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’ll pay for the chair. Continue.”
Cooper sat back down while grumbling a string of curses. “Another outburst, and I’ll kick you out, Dylan,” Cooper said. “This is about her, not you.”
My heart pounded as David’s words reverberated through the room. It’d definitely been a mistake to do this with him here. “You should leave.”
“No. Not unless you need me to.” David pinched the inside corners of his eyes. “Go on.”
I turned my attention back to Cooper. “David stopped the attack before it could go any further.”
Cooper blinked a few times at his friend. “Olivia said you were there for a meeting, but that you’d left. Why were you still in the building?”
