Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Thank you all so much for being here.” Claire Barnes stood on a small stage in front of a vacant lot, smiling at the audience of reporters and friends. “It’s my great honor to dedicate this site. Soon, right where we’re standing, we’ll begin construction on the Heather Barnes Center for Women.”
Claire caught Lana’s eye. Lana subtly waved back, not wanting to take any of the attention away. This was such a big day for Claire.
“Over twenty years ago, my sister Heather was murdered. Losing her was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through.
But there are so many women in our community dealing with trauma and tragedy every day.
The Center for Women will provide services to help them in their hour of need, as well as with the healing after.
I feel Heather’s spirit with us today, and I know how much this would mean to her, too. ”
It had only been a couple of weeks since Ryan Hearst’s death. But an anonymous donor had provided the lot for the center, as well as the funding, and Claire was already running with it.
Claire would act as the Center’s director, which was a big step-up in responsibilities from her current job as a social worker. But Lana was sure the woman would succeed. It was cathartic to have a task, to feel productive and useful. Lana understood exactly how Claire felt.
While Claire responded to questions from the reporters, Max leaned over to Lana’s ear. “I hate to run, but I’ve got a meeting in fifteen minutes. You okay staying without me?”
“Of course. I’ll see you later.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek, and he took off toward his car.
After the official dedication ceremony was over, the audience grabbed burritos from a waiting food truck and milled around, chatting.
Lana saw the mayor and members of City Council, along with Stephen Abrams, the District Attorney.
But she kept to the sidelines, not in the mood to talk.
She’d done so much of that already, lately.
Abrams had asked her again to run for DA, but Lana declined.
She knew she’d want to try in the future, but there wasn’t any rush.
She had a lot more she wanted to do first. Abrams hadn’t decided whether he’d run again after all, or whether he’d support someone else.
Lana was okay either way, so long as she remained a key part of the team.
Before long, Claire tracked Lana down. “I’m so glad you could make it.” They hugged.
“I wouldn’t miss it. Max was here too, but he had to leave for a meeting. He sends his congratulations.”
“I have the feeling it wasn’t just a meeting. Has Max been avoiding me?”
“Why would he do that?”
Claire gave her a knowing look. “I know that Max was the anonymous donor. It was pretty obvious. This lot belonged to him before he suddenly gifted it to the LLC that donated it to me. I’m no detective but give me a little more credit.”
“Okay, you’re right. But he wanted this to be about you and Heather.” Max had the money to spare, and he hadn’t felt he had any right to a pat on the back for it.
“Without Max, you couldn’t have brought Hearst to trial. And you…” Claire shook her head, her eyes shining. “Lana, what you went through is unimaginable.”
Only Heather really knows, Lana thought. But that was way too dark a thought for this beautiful sunny day.
“I understand that Max would rather keep his role quiet, but the two of you made all this possible. I’m never going to forget that. I am so incredibly grateful for everything. For you.”
They strolled further away from the crowd, heading toward the edge of the lot, where they could just make out the waterfront in the distance.
“How’ve you been doing?” Claire asked.
“I’m hanging in there.”
Lana had been so swamped with work that she hadn’t had time to dwell on the worst of it.
She was now ethically walled-off from any casework related to Ryan Hearst, given her personal involvement.
Stephen Abrams had taken over the casefile.
But that meant she had to pick up the slack on their office’s other filings.
Her next trial, one for vehicular manslaughter and drunk driving, would begin in just a few days.
Abrams had offered her more time off than that, but Lana was eager to keep busy.
Now that Hearst was dead, of course, any appeals relating to his trial were moot. But Abrams had given plenty of interviews in the media making the truth known: that the mistrial had been the result of Hearst’s interference, Judge Vaughn’s biased rulings, and Wayfair’s improper manipulation.
Dominic Crane’s contact within the Syndicate—the guy Ryan Hearst had hired—had confessed everything he’d done on Hearst’s behalf in exchange for immunity.
Wayfair hadn’t known about most of it, but he had been involved in paying off the judge.
The DA was going to seek criminal charges against Judge Vaughn and Paxton Wayfair relating to the bribery.
And as for Crane himself, Lana was grateful for the help he’d given Max, and she had hopes of working with Crane more cooperatively in the future. She and the DA were discussing a potential new plea deal for him.
Lana was still embarrassed by all the prying into her personal life. She also didn’t like that the media now painted her as a victim, and Max the ultimate hero. At least she wasn’t the seductress/villain anymore.
But none of that mattered compared to the whole world knowing the truth about Heather Barnes. Ryan Hearst murdered her. There wasn’t any more doubt.
“I saw Trevor Allen’s family for the funeral,” Lana said. “It was tough.”
“I’m sure.” Claire hadn’t gone to Trevor’s funeral, which Lana completely understood. “It takes a really long time to even begin to heal from the loss. I’ve been meaning to write to the Allens. Do you think they’d welcome it?”
“Absolutely.”
Lana was seeing a therapist, too, which was helping her to deal. But most of all, having Max, Aurora, and Devon nearby let her sleep soundly most nights.
“Lana, I’ve been meaning to say… I was too hard on you the day of the mistrial.”
“Don’t even mention it.”
“No, I have to. It was so difficult to keep the faith. But you always have. You promised me we’d get justice for Heather, and you did it. I’m just sorry about what it cost.”
Claire gave her another hug before heading back to her guests.
That night, Max came up to the roof where Lana was sitting.
She’d been listening to the waves. Insomnia had been plaguing her on occasion, and she usually liked to come up here to reset her mind.
The sound of the ocean made her think of Hearst’s cabin, yet at the same time, it reminded her that this world had existed long before that sick man, and it would keep going long after.
Hearst was dead, and Lana was still here.
Max settled onto the wicker couch beside her. “I didn’t have a chance to ask you. How was Claire?”
“She’s well. She totally knows that you donated the money.”
“I figured she might guess. Does she seem…happy?”
“I think she’s as close to happy as she’s been in a while. She’s moving on. I want to do that, too.”
It was dark where they were sitting, but Lana could see enough of him. His strong profile, his broad shoulders. She put her hand on his thigh, reassured as always by the firm muscle underneath.
“There’s no timeline for moving on. There’s no rush.”
Max was being so patient. They hadn’t made love since everything that happened. Not since before the mistrial. Lana had felt desire for him, but whenever things got heated, she hadn’t liked the places her mind had gone.
But tonight felt different. The waves soothed her. Her bruises had healed, her throat wasn’t bothering her anymore, and she felt more like herself. Maybe not the exact same Lana she’d been before Ryan Hearst, but her mind wasn’t stuck in that cabin, either.
She leaned forward and kissed Max’s jaw. “I know there’s no rush. But I’m ready. I want you.”
He gently brushed the hair back from her cheek. “You want me how?”
“I want you inside of me.”
He grinned, and she kissed his mouth. Max was holding back, so she nudged her tongue past his lips, coaxing him open. She straddled his lap, one of her favorite places to be, and felt him hardening against her.
“How is that?” he asked. “Okay?”
“So much better than okay.”
She didn’t want slow and gentle Max. She wanted him fast and aggressive. Lana wasn’t going to break, and she wanted him to acknowledge that fact, too.
But Aurora and Devon were sleeping in the guestroom downstairs. They’d been staying at Max’s off-and-on for the last couple weeks at Lana’s request, and Max hadn’t complained once.
Lana didn’t want any unexpected interruptions, though. She’d had more than enough of being on public display.
She stood up, pulling on Max’s hands. “Take me to bed.”
The minute his door closed, they were shucking off clothing, their mouths colliding again and again. Lana pushed Max onto the mattress and bent down to suck on the tip of his cock. He let out a loud moan.
“Shhh. You’re going to wake the kids.”
Lana crawled up his big body, settling herself over him. One of his hands squeezed her breast while his other fingers stroked between her legs, growing slipperier by the second. Soon she was riding his hand, already so close.
She reached down, fisted the base of his shaft, and sat on him. His length filled her, the pressure almost turning to pain, but not quite. Max grabbed her hips, hissing. “Fuck. You feel so good.”
Lana draped her upper body over his and let Max pump into her. She adjusted the angle of her pelvis, so he hit her just right, giving her exactly what she needed. Her mouth dropped kisses onto his chest and neck.
“I’ve missed this,” she said into his chest hair.
He hummed in agreement.
“Now fuck me harder, Max. Don’t hold back.”
His dick pulled almost out of her, then slammed into her again.
“Yes. Just like that.”
He thrust his hips, and she answered each movement, loving the filthy, primal sound of their bodies meeting.
The bed shook. She felt her climax surging inside of her.
It tipped right over the edge. Max put his knuckle in her mouth, and she bit down to cover her cries.
Another few seconds, and he was shuddering underneath her.
She just lay there on top of him, panting, not moving. Eyes heavy, a lazy smile on her lips. Wow, she’d needed that.
“Do you think they heard?” Max asked.
Lana giggled.