I glance over and see bruises covering her legs like fuck trophies in those short skirts she wears. She’s not going without so I’m not sure why she won’t leave me alone. I’ve tried to make it very clear lately that I’m not interested in her advances.
“Not now, I have work to do.” I grab some files and open them—maybe she will get a hint.
It works because she walks off, calling out to me on her way, “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I have to finish looking over a few of my upcoming cases before going home, so it’s not like I lied to her. Glancing over the files, I see there’s a request for a pro bono case. Fucking freeloaders.
Before I toss it in the trash, something catches my eye. It’s not the name but the location—Kaleb Cherry - Whiskey Rivers. Opening the file, I scan through the list of charges: illegal gambling, simple assault, possession of a controlled substance.
Well, well, well. What do we have here.
This must be a year of firsts for me. I don’t hand out my legal expertise to charity cases, but—I lean back in my chair and crack my knuckles—I might be willing to work out a deal. Let’s see what Kaleb knows about the Rivers family.
I pick up the phone and dial the number listed on the paper. “Yeah…” A man’s bored voice comes over the speaker after the fourth ring.
“This is Nick Ryker calling for Kaleb Cherry.” I sit back in my chair, propping my feet on my desk.
There’s a slight pause before the man talks again. “Oh hey. Yeah, thank you for calling me, man. I got into a little bit of trouble a while back and was wondering if you could help me out.”
“So I see, I was reading your file. How long have you lived in Whiskey Rivers?” I pretend to be invested in his history, but truth be told, nobody intentionally moves there.
“My whole life. There ain’t any good jobs here, man. The law took all my money. Can you work my case for free? You know, do something good with your career.” He laughs as ifsociety owes him because he’s poor and got caught breaking the law.
“I won’t make you any promises but meet me in my office next Wednesday at 10 a.m. to plead your case.”
“Yeah man, aight, I’ll be there for sure. Thanks so much, my guy.”My guy?Sheer stupidity oozes from his voice.
How old is he? I glance down at his file and see that he’s twenty-four. I rub my hand over my head and sigh. The ridiculousness in my life just keeps multiplying.
On my way home, I call Ethan to see how the girl’s first day at the farm went. “How’d everything go today?”
Part of me wishes she could’ve stayed here for the time being, but she needs to be where she can get out without risking being recognized. Keeping her cooped up won’t help her depression.
“She’s a lot less tense without your scary ass around.” Ethan has the maturity level of a teenage boy; there’s nothing intimidating about him at all and that’s why I keep him working behind the scenes.
He’s great with technology and can work with it under pressure so it works out. I could never put him on the front lines though. I used to wish he would toughen up but I’d never try to change him. As much as it pisses me off when he does it, he helps balance my harsh personality.
I roll my eyes in annoyance. “Glad to hear. Do you have anything useful to tell me about her yet?”
“Naw, not yet. We are just sitting on the porch drinking some fresh squeezed lemonade.” I hear what sounds like glasses clinking together in the background.
I am a little envious of that. Don’t get me wrong, I love my lifestyle here, but there’s nothing like stepping away from the city and getting some fresh air.
“A security system has been installed in her room and bathroom. The security system throughout the house has also been updated. I’ve hired a team to monitor her remotely around the clock. You can also access everything from your laptop. I don’t trust her to not kill herself yet.” I can keep an eye on her this way, too.
“Sounds good boss. I’m here if you need anything.”
“I’ll be by in a couple days, and I’ll expect an update. Call if you need or hear anything.” I click the phone off. It’s only been a couple weeks since I’ve been to the farm, but it seems like longer.
As if my playlist can sense my energy, Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Man” comes on the radio. My mama used to sing this song to me as a kid. I pull my car over in the empty public beach access and watch the sun set on the horizon and reflect on the recent turn of events.
If my mama knew what I was up to right now she would have me in the yard picking my own switch to beat my ass with. I snicker at the thought. At five foot nothing, weighing less than a buck ten, she ruled my daddy and I with an iron fist.
Something about planting that girl in that shithole strip joint is not sitting right with me and not just because of how I was raised. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I can’t useanyone I know, they’d be too easily spotted, and I’m not going to put my trust into a random stranger.
It will be hard to get the girl to trust me when she’s so emotionally fragile. Being nice to people is not something I’m used to doing. It’s going to take some work to keep myself from ruining her for good.
Chapter 9
