Page 71 of Reveal

I laugh. “Why, so you can be ready to post my bail just in case?”

“Something like that.” He meets my gaze. “You good?”

“Yeah. Thanks for”—I wave a hand through the air—“everything.”

“Night, Lockhart.”

“Night.”

When the door shuts behind him, I shift in my seat so I can get a better look at my desk. The papers are still there, still inked with her name, and a silent rage runs through me. The same one that started when Vaughn came into my life and I knew there was very little I could do to protect her.

But I can do this.

I know the right thing to do is to tell Vaughn I know the truth about her past. The best for us as a couple is to confess that I snooped in order to protect her. Sure she’d be mad, but at least it would be me telling her. At least it would be me showing her I learned from my last mistake at the pool house when I tried to find out information to protect her better.

I sigh into my glass and drink the rest of the whiskey as I contemplate what to do next. Regardless of the decision, I know one thing is for certain: I’m going to protect what’s mine at all costs.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Vaughn

“Can I see you tonight?”

My smile is automatic at the sound of his voice. My desire to be in Ryker’s arms or even sitting silently beside him is so intense that I just close my eyes and fight back the tears that burn there from sheer exhaustion.

“As much as I want to, I can’t.” I hate myself for even uttering the words.

“Why not?”

“I’m having trouble with a girl.” I flip the page on my pad of paper and glance down at the notes there. The complaints from a client about her unprofessionalism. How rude she was to him. And then below that is a note to call my new client Noah back—yet again—his nerves getting the best of him that he’s going to get caught.

“You are?”

“Yep.” The word comes out in a sigh.

“What’s wrong with your girl?”

“It’s a long story.”

“It’s good that it’s a long story. I like listening to your voice.”

And those simple words, ones that tell me I have someone in my life who cares about me, are so hard to accept, all the while so very incredible.

“She had dinner with someone last night and proceeded to insult him after getting drunk.”

“But you have a three-drink maximum,” he states. Leave it to the lawyer to have read my entire contract, even the small print.

“I do, yes.”

“How exactly did she insult him?”

“Let’s just say there was some laughter and then some mention of a minimal number of inches.”

“Ouch!” He hisses the word as he bites back a chuckle. “I’m assuming we’re talking about—”

“Yes. We’re talking about those inches. Or lack thereof.”

“Poor bastard.”