“At this point, not knowing is causing more harm than good. We have staff here trained to deal with these kinds of things, specifically grief counselors. They will help her through it.”
“The last thing I want is for her to spiral,” I say with a heavy breath.
“I have a board to answer to. And when something like this occurs, they want answers. At present, I can’t give them answers.”
“She’s been that bad?”
“As you well know, there is a fine balance here. People with some serious concerns and medical conditions. We house a lot of challenged patients and its imperative they have a safe space, somewhere that doesn’t upset the balance we create for them.”
“What has she done?” It’s the last thing I want to ask but Megyn is giving the impression it’s bad.
“She and a number of residents barricaded themselves in one of the therapy rooms. Things were broken and the stand-off lasted a few hours. When we did eventually get them out, some of the patients were so riled up they joined in and caused some damage.
“We cannot afford to focus all of our time on one person. I don’t want to run my facility like a prison, Mr. Connelly, but we had to deal with what she caused. It took even longer to get the other residents to calm down.”
“She caused a riot.” I let out another sigh.
“Problematic enough that the board has raised concerns. There is only so much I can ignore.”
Meaning she can no longer allow me to keep quiet. This is not going to be easy. It’s down to me she is here and has been for so many years.
Zelda wasn’t always trouble. She was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and gotaddicted to drugs.
One of the things I hated most about my club was how easily the drugs flowed through the clubhouse. She needed help, and I was the bad guy who got it for her. It’s been all too easy to forget about her, out of sight, out of mind.
Her brothers, Clipper and Danish were killed in the whole mess with Devil’s Chaos. They blindly followed Nytro, loyal to the club to the end.
Megyn might think seeing Zelda is going to fix this. Reality is, telling Zelda her only living relatives are dead is going to make things a million times worse.
Chapter Five
Cassie
Vance Roderick makes my skin crawl. It’s something I can’t put my finger on. Not because of what he’s been accused of. Stalking, assault and attempted kidnapping, which he vehemently denies. His brother is married to a partner, so he’s getting special treatment.
Being the daughter of an MC enforcer, I’ve had it ingrained in me to trust my gut. And I’ve inherited the ability to read people from my mom. I will never show being near him bothers me. I’ve worked with far worse people in my time. And I’m a professional.
When they asked me to be second chair on his case, it was made clear I couldn’t say no. They want a woman as part of his defense, to give the impression women can be around him. I’m the only lawyer here able to give up some time to assist.
My case load consists mainly of small civil lawsuits because most of my time is spent working for the MC, an understanding I have here.
It’s unfortunate there is currently no major shit going down at the Devil’s Chaos. Not that I will ever wish for there to be trouble. Not after what happened last year.
Still, I would give anything for something crazy to happen at the clubhouse. Maybe I should call Waverley and ask her to speak to Hudson about having someone arrested. Nothing major, something that would get me out of this.
It’s going to be a god damn media circus too. They’re going to parade me out in front of the cameras to prove women can work with him. To prove he isn’t a sleazy bastard who’s terrorized more than one woman. And, I’m pretty sure, done worse.
The criminal case didn’t hold up because he paid people off, now the victim is bringing a civil case against him.
Not for the first time, I think about quitting. My job here has been my lifeline for so many years. I don’t hate the MC, I don’t hate my family, but they’re not normal.
Some small part of me wants to cling to this alternative life where the people are never touched by violent crime, or unhinged men that engage in criminal activity without a care.
I made my bed, I will lie in it. This job keeps me sane. Until now.
My boss has never sexualized me, or made me feel less than the rest of the lawyers who work here. In fact, he knows how fucking good I am at my job, which is going against me in this situation.
I’m a good lawyer, with the aesthetic they want. They don’t want some vapid stand in to try to make him look good. I’m being penalized for my excellent record and skills.
