"I didn't think it through," I said, the words bitter on my tongue. "It was petty and cruel. I regret it every day."
That part, at least, wasn't a lie. I did regret everything, just not in the way I was claiming. I regretted not protecting her better, not seeing the threats closing in around her, not being the man she deserved.
"Your statements don't align with the evidence we have, Mr Bale. If you're lying to protect Miss Turner-"
"I'm not lying," I interrupted, slamming my fist on the table. "Check the damn records. Look at the timeline. I'm telling you what happened."
The enforcer opened his mouth to respond, but was cut short by a sharp knock at the door. He frowned, clearly annoyed at the interruption, and stood to answer it. A brief, hushed conversation followed, too quiet for me to make out the words. Then the enforcer turned back to me, his expression even more closed off than before.
"It appears you have representation," he said coldly. Before I could ask what the hell that meant, Aaron Purcell strode into the room as if he owned it. His tailored suit was immaculate, as always; his silver hair was perfectly styled, and his smile was asgenuine as a snake's. My stomach twisted with loathing at the sight of him.
"I need a moment with my client," Aaron announced, his voice brooking no argument.
The enforcer hesitated, then nodded curtly.
"Five minutes," he said, before stepping out and closing the door behind him. The moment we were alone, Aaron's smile vanished, replaced by a look of contemptuous amusement.
"Well, well. Aren't you the noble hero?" I said nothing, just glared at him with all the hatred I could muster.
"Do you think this little performance will save her?" Aaron asked, circling the table like a predator. "Do you really believe the Trivium will let her walk free because three privileged boys decided to fall on their swords?"
"What do you want, Aaron?" I spat, refusing to rise to his bait.
"I want you to know that your father called me," he said, leaning against the wall with casual arrogance. "He threatened me, of course. Said if I didn't represent you boys, he'd make sure my business interests suffered." My hands clenched into fists under the table. The thought of my father involved made everything more complicated. Nicholas Bale didn't do favours out of the goodness of his heart; he collected debts, and his collection methods were brutal.
"Old Nic seems to think I can get the girl off, too," Aaron continued, his voice dripping with mockery. "But I have much better uses for her in the Hole." Red-hot rage surged through me.
"You stay the fuck away from her," I snarled. Aaron's smile widened.
"That's not up to you, is it? I know each and every man on that tribunal bench. They'll convict the girl, and you three can watch as she's dragged away into hell." He leaned closer, his voicedropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And there's not a damn thing you can do about it."
"You're a fucked-up bastard," I said, my voice shaking with fury.
"I'm only just getting started. By the time I am done, the all-mighty Regents of Covenant House will be working for me. I will have you by the balls and you will do everything I say, or that precious little purple-haired slut will be passed around the Hole for anyone to ruin." Aaron replied, straightening up with a self-satisfied smirk.
Before I could respond, the door swung open, and the enforcer stepped back into the room. "Time's up," he announced.
"Actually," Aaron said smoothly, "my client is free to go. The tribunal has decided to reconvene tomorrow morning to deliver their verdict. Until then, Mr Bale, Mr Bowers, and my son Mr Purcell are to be released on their own merit." The enforcer looked surprised, but nodded.
"Very well. Mr Bale, you're free to leave, but you are required to remain within the local area until the tribunal reconvenes." I stood on unsteady legs, exhaustion and stress making my movements clumsy. I didn't look at Aaron as I walked past him, afraid that if our eyes met, I might actually try to kill him with my bare hands.
In the corridor outside, Cole and Ryder were waiting, both looking as haggard as I felt. Cole's eyes were bloodshot, his usual composure cracked. Ryder was pacing, his nervous energy barely contained, his blond hair a mess from running his hands through it repeatedly.
"Logan," Cole said, relief evident in his voice. "Thank god. Are you okay?"
"As okay as I can be," I muttered, glancing around at the enforcers lining the hallway. "They let you guys out, too?" Ryder nodded, his expression grim.
"Just now. They grilled us for hours. Kept trying to get us to contradict each other."
"Did they?" I asked, tension coiling in my gut.
"No," Cole answered firmly. "We stuck to the story. All of us." I exhaled slowly, some of the tension easing. Then I spotted her through a window further down the corridor, Cadence, sitting alone at a table, her head resting on her arms. Even from this distance, I could see the defeated slump of her shoulders, the way her purple hair, still so vibrant, fell across her face. My heart clenched painfully at the sight.
"I need to see her," I said, already moving toward the door. An enforcer stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "The accused is in isolation until the tribunal reconvenes."
"Let me in," I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. "Now."
"I'm afraid that's not-"
