Chapter 5
Chapter Five
W e have a saying in my line of work. If you’re not owed favors, you haven’t done your job .
When I got my first job, I despised the saying. I hated that I’d worked so hard for my degree, so hard to be a great lawyer when all it took to get what I wanted was to ask the right people. Grease a few palms and they’ll be eating out of yours.
I fully understand the importance and meaning of it.I hate that it’s necessary, because I pride myself on my talents, my ability to get the job done. Sometimes, it’s not that easy. Sometimes, you have to bend the law in your favor, and I have done that a fair few times.
Not all lawyers are like me though. Some are straighter than an arrow. But you don’t get to where I am unless someone owes you a favor or two.
Luckily, I have someone who’s in my debt, who just might be able to help me with my Bonanno situation. Reaching for my desk phone, I dial the first number on my list. I hold my breath as the phone rings several times before clicking through.
“Attorney's office, Catherine speaking,” a familiar, unnecessarily chirpy voice answers.
“It’s me.” I don’t really need more introduction than that. She knows who I am. We’ve spoken far too often to just be acquaintances.
“Cassie! Hi!” she gushes. Always eccentric.
“I need to speak to him,” I say abruptly.
There isn't time for pleasantries or small talk. I’m already on a time limit and I need to get shit done.
With Colombo appearing everywhere I turn, I’d rather get this whole thing finished so I don’t have to see any of them again.
Colombo already gives me the shivers, and though I pride myself on my reputation, I’d be crazy not to be afraid of The Five.
There’s a sharp silence that fills the speaker before Catherine huffs at my serious tone. “One moment.”
I listen to the heavy tapping of her fingers on the keyboard, holding my breath anxiously before the phone starts ringing again.
“Ms. Caruthers, do I need to be worried?” His tone comes out impatient, shocked almost. He’s not fearful, though.
No, that would be pathetic for a man of his stature and position.
However, I won’t deny that his voice shakes a little with surprise, a wariness to his tone.
The office saying comes to mind as I take a steadying breath.
“Not today, Judge Vaughan.”
He sighs loudly, angrily. His words follow through with a deeper emotion, an impatient one that has me grinding my teeth. “What do you need?”
“I need bail for a client.”
A deep laugh full of haunting patronisation fills my ear.
It grates on me a little, because men like Judge Vaughan always think that they’re above the law.
They think they can get what they want without owing anyone—particularly women.
They believe they’re exempt from the rule, but it’s the people like me who have to remind them of their place, time and time again.
“If your client doesn’t have bail, it’s for a reason, Caruthers.”
“I don’t care,” I snap. “I’m requesting bail, and you’re going to grant it. ”
“Careful of your tone.”
“Vaughan,” I huff. “Don’t make this difficult.
” The last thing he wants me to do is remind him of what he owes me.
I defended the man’s son when he was accused of drunk driving.
He did no real damage. The guy was just caught at the wrong time, in the wrong place, over the limit.
But the reputational damage would have been more catastrophic for Judge Vaughan, so I worked my magic and got his son off without even alerting the media.
It’s ignorant and irrational for him to believe that I would never be in such a position to cash in on what he owes me, but it’s time he realizes he’s not untouchable.
“Who?” he sighs, relenting slightly.
“Axel Bonanno.”
He groans out. The painful weight of his actions comes back to haunt him and I can already hear the excuses he’s conjuring in an effort to avoid helping me.
“Caruthers, you know I can’t do that.”
“You can, and you will. Vaughan Jr escaped time. Your reputation is gleaming. Do I need to remind you?—”
“Fine!” he cuts in. “We’re done after this.”
“We’ll see,” I smirk down the phone.
“I’ll set bail.”
“Great. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
There’s a soft grunt of agitation down the phone before he ends the call with his agreement.
So I get to work on Bonanno’s release statement, just in case the media gets wind of this.
Since they’ve been more than attuned to the events happening, it pays to be extra prepared.
It’s easy enough to blast out some apologies, a notice of wrongful convictions.
But Bonanno is still a suspect and with the way this city has been run, I have no doubt someone is out to make him pay.
By the time it reaches six in the evening, my eyes ache and the impending headache looms over me like a dark cloud ready to rain. I’m ready to leave the office and sink into bed, maybe even treat myself to some crappy TV for an hour or two.
Jada clings onto the door frame to my office, waiting for me as I pick up my belongings. “Do you fancy getting a drink?” she asks before I’ve even stepped out of the door.
I contemplate her proposal, torn between the need for rest and the desire to spend some time outside of work that isn’t drowning in the despair that is quickly becoming my relationship with Cooper.
It doesn’t take me long to decide, so I toss my coat on and head to the elevators with her. “Sure, I can go for one.”
We head over to the bar a few blocks from the office, a quaint little place where they serve the best cocktails in Manhattan—in my opinion anyway.
The glowy lights create an ambience that warms me from the inside out—which is a definite must with the declining climate.
It’s a relaxed atmosphere as usual when we find a table near the bar.
Pop music plays low from the jukebox in the corner, while patrons mingle quietly at the tables surrounding us.
I enjoy this place for so many reasons, the main one being that this is where my parents met and that holds a special place in my heart.
It’s a way for me to feel connected to them, even though they’re no longer here.
Jada orders our Martini’s with the promise of just a quick catch up. But I should know better than to believe her. Jada and I work well together, and get along even better. We don’t know everything about one another, but that’s never stopped us from having a good time.
One drink soon turns into two as we get lost in conversation, telling me all about a guy she met online. “The sex is good, but…” she trails off, sighing dreamily.
“But what?” I laugh, taking a sip of my cocktail.
“He lives with his mother.”
“Oh,” I startle. I wasn’t expecting that, but then again living in New York is expensive. If you don’t have a decent paying job, you won’t get much .
Eventually two drinks turn into several rounds.
And before long, Jada and I are sinking shots.
The drag of a day I’ve had starts to ebb away, and I won’t lie that I start bobbing along to the Jukebox when Jada plays some Maroon Five.
I sip my Cosmopolitan as Jada returns from the otherside of the bar, wiggling her hips drunkenly, a mischievous smile curling her lips. “So come on…What’s he like?”
“What’s who like?” My brows knit in confusion.
“ Him .” Her eyes widen eagerly, a smirk spreading across her face.But she’s not looking at me. She’s looking over my shoulder.
I follow her gaze, and to say my jaw drops would be an understatement. I’m sure it hits the floor with the way I’m stunned into silence, suspended in disbelief as I lock eyes with the last man I expected to see here .
“Shit,” I mutter, spinning around. “I should go.” I mumble some pathetic apology about needing to be somewhere at ten o’clock at night before edging towards the door. I can hear Jada’s mocking laugh behind me, but I don’t pay any attention to it. I need to get away from Axel Bonanno before… Shit.
I rummage in my bag for my cell phone, only I come up short.
“Forgot something?”
I freeze, slowly looking up. I shiver under the intensity of his dark gaze. There’s just something so dangerously sexy about that stare, like he’s trying to tear my soul from my body, with his teeth.
When I finally break eye contact, I realize he’s holding my phone. “Thanks,” I murmur, but it’s weak at best. The lump in my throat prevents me from sounding even remotely normal.
“We need to talk,” he demands, his tone deep and authoritative.
Despite the power underscoring his words, I still find the strength to shake my head in defiance.
It’s Friday night. I’ve clocked off and this is my time.
I know that Axel said I belong to The Five and while I don’t understand the true meaning of those words, I refuse to let him call the shots here.
I’m certain it’s the wrong response, especially when his form towers over me, backing me against the wall beside the door. I gulp back the sliver of fear and gaze into his dark eyes.
“I don’t ask twice, Cassie,” he growls and I melt into a puddle. I shouldn’t react to a man like him, so dangerous and threatening, but the fact I’m licking my lips as he yanks the door beside me open contradicts any sensibility.
“Now?” I startle.
He offers me a small nod and nothing else. That alone should be a warning, yet I don’t listen to the rational thoughts stirring in my head.
With his hand pressing to the small of my back, he guides me out of the door and towards a sleek black SUV.
The closer we get, the more stifling the thick heat that wraps around my neck becomes.
I’ve never felt so damn nervous, not even after my first encounter with Mr. Colombo.
He’s intimidating as hell, but this moment doesn’t even compare.
“Get in,” his commanding voice whispers in my ear.
I shiver in response, a mixture of excitement and dread blending together as I obey reluctantly.