“Don’t deflect with humor.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
“Then talk to me.” His voice softened. “Tell me what’s actually going on.”
“What’s going on is that I need a lawyer who can be objective. Who doesn’t …” I stopped myself.
“Doesn’t what?”
“Doesn’t look at me like I’m broken.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Doesn’t hear my past and immediately need to escape. Doesn’t …” My voice cracked. “Doesn’t confirm every fear I’ve ever had about myself.”
His expression shifted. Something raw and wounded flashed across his face. “Faith?—”
“I laid myself bare to you, Ryker. Told you things I’ve never told anyone. And you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “So, forgive me if I’d rather have a lawyer who doesn’t see me as damaged goods.”
“Is that what you think?” His voice was rough. “That I see you as damaged?”
“What else am I supposed to think? You listened to my entire fucked-up history, and then you just … left. And you did it again this morning.”
“I left this morning because I had to work on your case while you slept off your hangover.”
“And the first time?”
He dragged a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. For a moment, he looked less like a polished attorney and more like a man wrestling with demons.
“You want the truth? Fine.” His voice dropped, turned raw. “Yes, I had a moment of doubt. After hearing everything you’d been through, everything that had happened to you … I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”
The admission made my legs feel weak.
“I had a client once,” he continued, his eyes never leaving mine. “Swore on his mother’s grave he was innocent. I believedhim. Fought for him. Got him off.” His jaw tightened. “Three weeks later, he killed three people.”
My breath caught. No wonder he’d needed space. No wonder he’d doubted.
“So, when you told me about your past, about the violence you’d witnessed …” He shook his head. “For a split second, I wondered if I was being blind again. If I was letting my feelings for you cloud my judgment. But mostly …” He moved closer and closer, with me matching every step until my back hit the wall. “I left because hearing what you went through made me want to tear the world apart. Made me want to find every person who ever hurt you and make them pay.”
My breath caught. The air crackled with tension. I could feel the heat of him, and every nerve ending in my body was screaming at me to close the distance and embrace whatever this was.
I’d never had anyone besides Blake want to protect me. Want vengeance for me. Look at me like I was worth risking everything for.
But I couldn’t trust it. Not yet. He’d also just admitted he doubted me. That’s what I heard beneath all the pretty words about protection and rage. He’d heard my past, and his first instinct was to wonder if I was lying. If I was manipulating him. If I was guilty.
Not that I could blame him. I looked guilty. Maybe Iwasguilty.
But mixing romance with my case was a recipe for disaster, proven beyond a reasonable doubt with his actions. I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t let myself fall for someone who’d already started pulling away the moment things got messy.
“Faith?”
“I heard you,” I said quietly. “I told you things I’ve never told anyone, and your first thought was,What if she’s lying?That’s what you’re really saying.”
“That’s not?—”
“It is though.” I felt the familiar distance slamming back intoplace around my heart. Safer there. Couldn’t get hurt if you didn’t let anyone in. “And I get it. I would feel the same way in your shoes, but I can’t … I won’t …” I struggled to find the words. “I just … I think it would be best if I worked with someone else.”
A fresh wave of offense washed over his face. “What’s your budget, Faith?”
The abrupt tone change threw me. “My what?”
“Your budget for a new attorney.” His voice took on that lawyer tone. “Because any attorney worth a damn is going to cost you. A lot. And your case is going to require thousands of billable hours. So, unless you’ve got a trust fund I don’t know about, you’re looking at a public defender.”
