I open my mouth to plead with him, but the sharp blare of the building alarm cuts me off. Bright pulses of light illuminate the hallway from the emergency flashers at the top of the hallway. “This is not a drill. Everyone shelter in place.” A voice blares over the speaker. “This is not a drill. Shelter in place.”
His grip loosens, and panic flickers across his face. “No, no, no. He said he would handle the cops. He promised!”
I don’t know who the hellheis, but I’m not about to waste my opportunity. I wrench free and hurl my briefcase at his head with everything I’ve got. I spin and run.
Only my goddamn heels betray me. My ankle rolls. Pain shoots up my leg as I stumble. Something hard slams into my temple. My visionblacks out around the edges, and I can’t hear anything anymore other than the blaring of the alarm, which sounds much further away than it did.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mark
If this defense attorney doesn’t wrap it up soon, I might be the one facing charges. Their strategy appears to be boring the jury into a coma and hoping for a mistrial. The last four witnesses have all given nearly identical accounts, each from a slightly different angle—none of which actually help their case. What the hell are they thinking?
It’s also possible I’m just getting cranky.
I bounce my leg under the table, fighting the urge to tap my pen. Even the judge looks like he’s struggling to stay awake. At one point, I’m almost positive I saw him jerk upright as if he had nearly nodded off. The jury isn’t absorbing any of this, and honestly, neither am I. Surely he will call for a recess soon. I can’t believe he hasn’t yet. Maybe because he’s new?
Suddenly, a sharp burst of fear slams into me through the bond. It’s so intense and unexpected that I drop my pen and hit my knee on the bottom of the table. I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe through my nose. The fear disappears almost as quickly as it came, but it still leaves me unsettled. I try to tell myself it was nothing; maybe Ava saw a spider or a rat. Yet that doesn’t feel quite right.
I spot Henry standing off to the side, whispering with a new bailiff who had just entered. Maybe he’s about to take a bathroom break. I pick up my pen and scribble ‘Please check on Ava’ on my notepad, motioning for him to come my way with a tilt of my head. It’s a bold move on my part, but at this point, I don’t care. We’re going public after today, and Henry probably already suspects. She would have run right past him the other night after our fight, crying and smelling like me. There’s no way he didn’t notice that.
Henry glances at my note, gives a sharp nod, and slips out of the courtroom. The pressure in my chest eases slightly. I trust him. He will make sure she’s all right until I can get out of here.
Finally, after another few minutes, the defense wraps up with their current witness. I’m on my feet before they can call another. “Your Honor, may I request a sidebar?”
He nods, and I approach the bench. “I believe the jury has reached their limits for the day and are not fully absorbing information. Could we possibly have a recess?”
“Yes, Mr. Taylor, I believe you’re correct,” he says quickly. He sounds almost relieved. It’s mildly annoying that he didn’t just call it himself, but I let it go. At least we are finally getting some freedom. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we will be breaking for a recess. We will return tomorrow at,” he pauses to consult his calendar, “12:30 p.m.” He bangs the gavel.
Everyone starts gathering their things, conversations filling the room. Just before anyone has a chance to leave, the alarms blare to life. The jurors freeze, wide-eyed and anxious. The bailiff is pressing a finger to his earpiece. His face goes pale. Panic surges through me. Something is wrong, and I just felt a spike of fear from Ava.
I have to get out of this courtroom.
I spin and take large strides to the door, but the bailiff blocks my path. “Mr. Taylor, we have shelter-in-place orders.”
“I don’t care what orders you have. I need to check on my mate,” I growl. My voice is rougher than I would normally ever dream of being at court, but I cannot find it in me to care.
“Mr. Taylor, return to your seat,” he says firmly. “If you don’t, I will be forced to restrain you.”
My mouth opens, ready to tell him he can certainly fucking try, but Henry slips back in through the doorway. As soon as he sees me, he raises his hand in a placating gesture, and Iknow. I don’t need to hear whatever he’s about to say.
“Let me out of this fucking room, Henry.”
“Mark, security has this, and NYPD is en route. If you go charging out there, you’ll put her in even more danger,” he says gently.
Normally, I like Henry. I really do. Right now, though, my alpha is screaming at me to get past him and/or rip his head clean off his shoulders. My mate is in danger, and he isin my way.“What would you do if it was Grace? How can you ask me to sit here and donothing?”
He winces. “I know. Believe me, I do. But please, listen to my forty-plus years of experience. Let the experts handle this.”
“The police force hates her, Henry!” I yell, fear erasing every ounce of rationality I have left. “You want me to leave her safety to them?”
He studies me for a long moment, lips in a straight line and jaw tight as if debating with himself. The alarms are still blaring, and I can hear some of the jurors and spectators crying softly, but nothing matters to me just then except Henry and the woman—my woman—in danger past the doors. I clench my fists, and it feels like every muscle in my body is coiled like a spring, just looking for a reason to pop.
Finally, he sighs. “All right. You can come out with me into the hallway and down to the command center. But you stay behind me and do exactly as I say. Otherwise, I’m going to taze your big ass. Understood?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
He presses his earpiece and notifies someone that he will be walking out of courtroom five’s door with one other unarmed individual. Once they respond, he nods at me and then unlocks it.
