Chapter 6 #2
“Wait,” Maggie pipes up. “Why would you need Chris? And when did you pay him a retainer?”
Ian hugs Maggie to his side and kisses the top of her head. “Don’t worry about it, Mags.”
Maggie tries to push away from him, arguing that he needs to tell her.
I take a sip of his beer and clear my expression. Ian sent me money a while back; for what, I have no idea. Nor do I really want to know.
“Well, this has been super fun catching up. I’ll see all of you later.” I start to turn, but stop and look at the youngest of the group and the guy I know the least—Jack’s cousin, Tyler. “Tyler, if you’re ever in trouble, don’t be like your friends here. Call someone else who isn’t me, got it?”
He stares at me in confusion. “Uh, okay. No problem.”
With that, I leave the party. I need to go see the one person who I can talk to about all of this.
It isn’t long before I’m seated in the sterile, nondescript room, waiting. I’m pulling the deck of cards out of my bag when the door opens. The guard gives me a nod before turning to the man entering the room behind him and unlocking the shackles.
My eyebrows pinch. “Is that really necessary, Barry?” I mutter, unable to hold back my annoyance.
Barry turns back to me and claps the prisoner on his shoulder with a grin. “Gotta make it look good. Have fun, guys. Text me when you’re done.” Barry leaves with the other guard who stayed in the hallway, and the door slams shut behind him.
Tom stares at the door before frowning back at me. “You know you could just come see me during normal visiting hours.”
I shrug as I start shuffling the cards, jutting my chin toward the chair across the table from me.
“Those hours don’t work for me. And I don’t always like sitting in the common area with everyone else.
Besides, they’ll kick me out if I stay too long.
” I start dealing the cards for gin rummy, and Tom relents and drops into the seat.
“You could get in trouble.”
Tapping the cards, I straighten them before setting the pile on the table between us to draw from. “I won’t get in trouble. Those guards like my money a lot more than they do following the rules to a T.”
Tom sighs as he picks up his cards. “It’s good to see you, kid. Haven’t seen you in a week.”
I stop flicking through my cards, and my eyes find the older man.
He looks pretty good considering his circumstances, except for the fact that he looks like he’s lost a little bit of weight.
The wrinkles around his eyes seem a little more pronounced today, as if he hasn’t been getting enough sleep lately.
“It’s good to see you, too, Tom. You sleeping okay?” I ask as we begin our game.
His slim shoulders shrug. “Sometimes I get insomnia. Don’t worry about me; it’ll pass.” He raises his eyes to me. “You’re not looking so hot yourself.”
“Geez, thanks.” I take my turn before sitting back in my chair, my lips pursing in thought.
He isn’t wrong. I know I look rougher than normal if Mandi’s comments are any indication.
I also slept even less last night than I usually do.
Every time I closed my eyes, all I could think about was Lily.
Which is insane and inappropriate, yet it seems inevitable. I don’t know how to stop it.
Tom sets his cards down and crosses his arms. “Alright, spill it.”
My exhale is loud and drawn out, hoping to blow out some of the anxiety plaguing me. I stare at the closed door for a few moments before looking back at my friend. “I have a new client.”
He tilts his head, and confusion morphs his expression. “Okay… I don’t know your caseload, but I’d guess having a new client isn’t something different for you.”
My nod is slow and hesitant. “You’re right. But it isn’t for a contract.” His eyebrows jump, so I go on, “Murder.”
Tom rears back but gives me a reassuring smile. “That actually makes me really happy to hear.”
Shaking my head, I argue, “How can you say that, Tom? After everything?”
The older man reaches across the table and grips my forearm, his bony fingers cool against my skin where my rolled-up sleeves expose it.
“I’ve told you for years you needed to stop beating yourself up over what happened.
The odds weren’t just stacked against us.
They didn’t care about finding the truth. You know that.”
I work my jaw back and forth as every single emotion that I’ve held inside over the last few years has my chest in a vise grip.
Tom continues, “I’ve told you this before, but I’ll tell you until the day I die. I do not blame you at all for what happened in that courtroom. Chris, look at me.”
My eyes zip to his lighter ones. Just like always, sincerity shines bright.
“You did everything you could. But when you’re fighting against apathy, there’s only so much you can do without losing yourself in the process.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. Everything he said is correct, and he’s said this to me before, but it’s so hard to accept when I know an innocent man is behind bars because I couldn’t prove what I knew without a shadow of a doubt.
During the trial, he’d warn me not to become what people were assuming about him whenever I suggested something untoward.
Little did he know, I’ve always edged the line of morality when I believe what I’m doing is the right thing to do.
I learned long ago that sometimes, if you’re doing it for the right reason, social norms, rules, and sometimes, even laws, are meant to be bent. Maybe not broken, but definitely bent to fit your needs.
Unfortunately, during Tom’s trial, the prosecution had very little to go on, and we had even less.
For some reason, everything about his trial and prosecution was rushed.
This left me with very little time to build any counterarguments to what they presented.
Before I even realized it, it was too late. He was found guilty.
And I claimed to be one of the best.
In that moment, I realized I’d been fooling myself into thinking that.
Tom leans forward and picks up his cards. “So, tell me about this client.”
I roll out my shoulders, knowing I’m about to be completely honest with Tom about Lily. “Well, her husband was murdered.”
“She do it?”
Shrugging, I say, “They think she did. He beat her up pretty bad right before he died. He didn’t sound like a great guy even outside of his marriage. Hell, in my opinion, he got what was coming to him.”
Tom nods thoughtfully. “She attractive?”
I study my cards to avoid looking at him and mumble, “Fucking gorgeous. I don’t think I could have dreamt up a more perfect woman.”
His deep, raspy chuckle surrounds us. “Well, this should be interesting.”
Interesting doesn’t even begin to describe it.