My heart stuttered, and suddenly, the terror and panic melted away to rage.
He leaned forward again, hands still groping.
“I said to stop!” I almost screamed the words, and before I could think, my body moved.
My hand flew up, the heel of my palm slamming straight into the base of his nose. The impact jolted up my arm.
Preston reeled back with a sharp, guttural sound, hands flying to his face. “What the fuck?” he shouted, eyes watering as blood ran down his chin.
I created more space between us, backing as far away as I could until my back hit the opposite wall. My chest heaved, hands shaking, but I remained steady. My feet planted in the defensive stance Graham had taught me, ready for whatever happened next.
“I told you that you needed to stop, Preston,” I spat, sounding less lethal and more breathless.
Preston’s face pinched in disgust and pain. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He carefully removed his hands, staring wide-eyed at the blood covering them. His nose looked bruised, but not broken. At least I didn’t think so; I hadn’t heard a snap. I was slightly disappointed.
“What gives you the right to assault me?”
I bristled at the acid in his voice.
“Assault you?” I snapped, my muscles coiling, ready to strike out at him again if he gave me any excuse to. “There was only one person doing the assaulting here, and it wasn’t me.”
Preston stared at me, looking me up and down like he was truly seeing me for the first time. He let out a tight huff of air as he straightened. “Don’t pretend you haven’t found this arrangement mutually beneficial.”
My body deflated at that. I leaned back against the wall for support. Embarrassment ate at me. And shame. It all bore down on me until I couldn’t breathe.
I looked up at Preston. “I want off the case.”
I hadn’t thought much about it before the words left my mouth, but I realized it was true. Spending time with the Ramseys, with the Cardinals fans on the Bird Bus, had chipped away at something in me. I had always put aside any judgment of my clients. It was what was required in criminal defense.
But I wasn’t sure I could be fully unbiased anymore.
He looked at me with more disbelief than he had when I’d hit him in the nose. “What?” he snapped.
My heart was beating so fast, I felt dizzy. “I want off the Amos Anderson case. Let me go back to Cincinnati. Let me take care of my other clients.”
My fingers curled into fists so tight my knuckles ached.
Preston cocked his head to the side, glaring at me. “I’m surprised,” he said, voice nasally as he used his crisp dress sleeve to stanch the blood. “I thought you cared more.”
“You know I care about my job more than anything,” I muttered between clenched teeth. “But I—I don’t think I’m a good fit for this case.”
“More than anything?” A muscle fluttered in his cheek. “I’m not sure that’s true.”
I shuddered. Maybe he was right. “You don’t need me for this case.” I looked away.
He gingerly pinched the bridge of his nose, but the bleeding was subsiding. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered.
I clenched my teeth, but didn’t argue. “I can be more useful in the office, I promise.”
It didn’t feel right, like I was begging him to give me permission to excuse myself. But Preston had a lot of power and I’d already put so much of my life into the firm.
His eyes were hard, glinting like flint in the fading daylight. “Sure, Carpenter,” he said, almost softly.
For a moment, I loosed a breath of relief.
But then he continued. “But I don’t think you should come back to the office at all.”
