After mentioning the new evidence he received that morning—which I’m certain has to do with Sal and Tim—the judge shockingly dismisses the case, citing insufficient probable cause.Just like that.
The relief I feel is so overwhelming I struggle not to cry.
I amnota crier.
Zane’s not out of the woods yet, but at least he’s over the first hurdle, and I’m holding tight to hope that he’ll be cleared of any fault in Landon’s death too. There’s no other acceptable outcome. He didn’t do anything wrong. He saved Reed and Hayley.
We all exit the courtroom when Zane’s dismissed, and while everyone’s celebrating and hugging Zane, I sneak away, shifting into media-control mode.
I stalk the hall toward the front desk and pray they have somewhere I can work.
“Hi.” The receptionist lifts her gaze as she places her book on the desk in front of her, offering me a tight-lipped grin. “How can I help?”
“I’m sorry to bother you. But I was wondering if you might have a room I can borrow for a few minutes. I have to make some time-sensitive calls.”
“Does this have anything to do with the football star over there? My husband is a huge fan; I recognized him right away.”
Jesus. Yep. That’sexactlywhy I need to make these calls. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already messaged her husband to tell him Zane’s here.
“It’s not, sorry,” I lie. “Do you have anything?”
“I think meeting room B is available.”
“Great. Thank you. Where would I find that?”
She points me in the direction of a room with a weathered door that looks like it could pass as a janitor’s closest, and when I walk in, I’m surprised to find it’s bigger than I perceived.
I spend all of two seconds assessing my surroundings before sliding my phone from my pocket and making my first call, my fingers crossed for luck as the phone rings.
I’m on my fifth call by the time someone answers, and after finally getting through to three more contacts, I think it’s safe to say no one’s aware of Zane’s arrest. At least, not yet.
Still, I keep going.
I’ve just hung up from another unanswered call, when a text comes through.
SAL: Where are you? Are you okay?
KEELEY: I’m fine. Just trying to get ahead of this news
SAL: What can I do to help?
KEELEY: Nothing. I’ve got this
SAL: You’re my rock, Keels. Let me be yours.
My gaze lifts to my faint reflection in the window, and I physically deflate while my heart jolts in my chest.
It’s moments like these that I struggle to remember he’s my boss and almost twenty years my senior.Why does he have to be so good to me all the time?He doesn’t even realize he’smyrock too. He instantly calmed me today with one simple touch. The way my body reacts to him is unnerving.
For the past year, I’ve been pretending those moments don’t mean anything, but now that my emotions are shot, it’s a struggle to convince myself to maintain my practical approach when it comes to the two of us.
Am I physically attracted to Sal? Absolutely.
Am I emotionally attracted to Sal? Yes, in the sense that he calms me and being in his orbit makes me happy.
Do I have feelings for Sal? That I can’t answer. Not now. But if asked, I’d sayno.
I’m smart enough to realizethatroad is a complete dead end. But is that my response because I know that?
