The Lawyer He Can't Rescue

1. Wombat

Chapter One

Wombat

Everything has an expiration date. Milk, overdue library books, and relationships.

Shit, even toxic family should be kicked to the curb.

Because life can be too short to pay for the mistakes of others.

Which was the conundrum running through my head as I sat chained to the table while I waited for my lawyer to show his slick mug, spout off some bullshit, and make nice with the cops before I was free again. Or not.

This wasn’t the first time I’d been in this predicament.

But I was running out of second chances.

The local police caught me dead to rights as I created a distraction for the club.

By making a big enough nuisance of myself, I kept them from looking where the real trouble was.

And that was the whole point of popping a wheelie through that intersection and scaring the shit out of some old lady who shouldn’t have been driving late at night.

She crashed her car and blamed it on me.

Reckless driving. Public endangerment. Oh, and the secondary, but worst charge… resisting arrest with a side dish of assaulting a police officer.

Damn straight I did that. The cops hated me, hated the club I hung around with, and hated the stench of disobedience on me. Plus, they swung first.

Hopefully, James Crowne, Esquire, could fast-talk them out of that combo. I doubted he could. He wasn’t that good.

A commotion at the door broke my self-psychoanalysis. The muffled pair of voices grew louder as their argument spilled into the interrogation room.

“—And I’m telling you I don’t need your help. Remember who recommended you to this firm?”

The brunette’s sharp voice cut off as she caught me looking.

James stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off like he had terminal cooties.

With visible effort, she plastered a smile on her face. It did amazing things. Like short-circuiting my brain, sending a zing to my dick, which up until now had completely “noped” out of the situation, and most precious of all, it brightened her whole face.

I wish I had someone who’d light up like that every time they looked at me.

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Honoria Ryder, your legal representative from Poe and Walsh.

” She spoke her first name by dropping the “h” making the first syllable an “ah” and emphasizing the “NOR” portion.

If I’d have read it first, I would have ingrained the wrong pronunciation into my gray matter and missed out on the most beautiful word in the English language.

As much as I wanted to touch that outstretched hand and feel the baby-soft skin she offered, I couldn’t.

I rattled the chains attached to my wrist cuffs in response.

With what little manners I had, I tried to stand, but got stymied by the chain tethering my waist, wrists, and ankles to the table via an eyelet.

My movement slid the table, creating a horrible screech.

James the dickface jumped in front of Honoria as he tried to hustle her back out the door.

She wasn’t having it. Through gritted teeth, she berated James. “Get your hands off me. He was just trying to stand up.”

I settled back into my chair. The guard in the room with me shot me a look and a shrug. With exaggerated clarity, he mouthed, “Divorce.”

Oh.

I guess I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep a relationship going.

“I was protecting you.”

“Can it, Jim, or I’m telling the partners you put hands on me, again.”

Again? Dude just hit my shit list. Not somewhere down the row of people I’d like to wax, but right near the top. It was getting crowded up there.

“Fine.” Jim turned to me, “Honey’s on this one, sorry. I know Walt wanted me.”

Honey? The evil grin on my face slid into place before I could stop it.

Honoria glared at me, then back at Jim.

“Are you done undermining me?”

He held his hands up and retreated.

“And you…”

Busted. “What?” Honey Ryder as in Ride-her…? Well, duh. I’d love to do just that.

She composed herself and set a wall of mental steel between us. “Go ahead, say what you’re going to say.”

“Your first name is beautiful.” I repeated it carefully, focusing on the correct emphasis.

She blinked. “Thank you.”

Even the way she sat was gracefully elegant. Without thinking, I blurted, “You’re gorgeous.”

“I’m also your lawyer.” Her smile wasn’t as sweet this time.

Which meant, off-limits, dumbass. “Right. What’s your read on the charges? And, can you get my bail posted today?” I needed to be out of here an hour ago. Shit was flying around and piling up.

She studied me for a moment. Her gaze landed on the black eye I’d gotten before booking.

Or maybe the cut on my forehead that had swollen up to the size of an egg.

That was courtesy of a billy club. Yes, the cops still used those.

The matching bruises on my neck and the slight rasp of my voice were another reminder of that.

“Did you receive medical attention?”

Shaking my head would hurt, so I didn’t. “No.”

Her glare shifted to the guard.

He held up his hands. “He came in that way. That wasn’t done here.”

Slight color rose in her cheeks. She had pale skin. Not olive, not peachy, not even ivory. It was a shade I’d not explored before. Somewhere between cream and pink. It looked softer than her hands. “I’ll note that and see if you can get transferred to medical. Are you dizzy at all?”

If I told her yes, I’d be out of holding and put in medical. That wouldn’t fly. I needed to be back on the streets. “I’m good. It’s just bruise or two. When is my bail hearing?”

She smiled. “You’re lucky, we got you on the docket for ten.”

Hot damn. I’d be out and on the streets by noon. Except— “My bike’s in impound.” I could move faster on the Husky than my touring bike.

Honoria looked me straight in the eye. “You’re not going to be driving that motorcycle any time soon. It’s in police hold.”

Fuck. That meant Monday earliest. Or a court date, which may mean never. And they charged for storage by the day.

She pulled out my paperwork. “On Monday, I’ll be working with the DA to get the charges on record for the reckless driving only.

Seeing as your arrest was recorded on body cam and the bruising you suffered was due to unnecessary force, I will push them hard to drop the resisting and assault charges. ”

Cool. “What about the public endangerment charge?”

She rolled her eyes. “Your vehicle shows no damage. Which means you did not hit the second vehicle in the incident.”

Yay. Except, I had put my boot on the fender.

That minimal contact should have warranted the charges to stick.

“The woman was pretty adamant I hit her,” I prompted because if it went to trial, her word would be the first, last, and only thing the jury remembered.

I’d been railroaded enough to know that.

“The only damage to that vehicle is directly attributed to her attempt to avoid hitting you. Hardly your fault considering she was taking a left turn into your lane which was oncoming traffic.”

I tried to remember that part. I’d been so focused on making a scene in front of the cops, I’d hardly avoided her car in time. And yeah, that boot print on her front fender was right after I dropped the front tire to avoid getting wiped out by that bitch.

Here I thought she ran the red light. Huh. “Will my license be suspended?”

“The typical sentence is three months and two points.”

Ouch. That would mess with everything. You had to ride to be in the club. If I couldn’t, then I was useless. “No points?” I tried.

“This is your third traffic violation in two years.”

I clamped my mouth shut.

“Why are you so reckless?”

“I’m not reckless.” And she shouldn’t ask shit like that with a guard in the room. “Don’t you have some sort of oath to serve your client’s needs?”

“How many times have you had legal counsel? Be honest with me.”

I counted on my fingers. Emancipation, juvenile court…twice, traffic court five times, one battery charge that got dismissed, and today. “Ten.”

“That’s ten times too many.”

“Judgmental much?”

Her eyes met mine. “I’m not making judgments, I’m reminding you that while the firm truly enjoys the payments Mr. Tipton makes to the retainer, I think his defense of every employee of his trucking company is a bit of an abuse on his benefits package. He’s our client, you aren’t.”

That cut me deep. Reminding me the club president was footing this bill was a low blow.

“I’ll bet you don’t think I’m so beautiful now, do you?”

On the contrary, she was gorgeous. I liked women who were direct. “I’d fuck you.”

Her face went cold. “That’s why they didn’t want me taking this client.

” Honoria’s volume and pace adjusted as she addressed me.

“Your boss is quite generous. Take the two points, otherwise this will go to trial and cost him without a guaranteed outcome. I cannot promise you a jury would look kindly on your behavior when confronted with an eighty-year-old piano teacher in the witness stand.”

“A piano teacher, huh?”

Honoria nodded.

“Well. Two points, they clear in twelve months, right?”

“Yes.”

That sucked, because while she could guarantee me getting released, I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t be right back in the system in less than four hours.

There was a rift between the Destroyers and the old club that exploded last night.

I needed to get to Nickel’s for guard duty, or back on the highways hunting down those assholes who fucked with the club. “I’ll be released today?”

“I will make that happen. The bail bondsman is outside.”

The remarkable clarity and confidence she put into those words was unlike anything old Jim would have done for any of us. He, along with all the partners in the firm Walt kept on retainer, couched their words in ambiguous rhetoric. Honoria didn’t.

“You must be new to criminal defense law.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just that I’ve never had a lawyer with so much…”

Her eyebrow went up, daring me to say something demeaning.

But that wasn’t where I was going with this. “So much heart. It’s as if you like your job.”

“I love my job.”

With that, I was more than halfway enamored with her. “Why?” I leaned in so I could catch the tones inside her words, the flavor of her reply, and the soul underlying it all.

“The justice system doesn’t work if there isn’t a system that operates within the rules.

I defend the people at the highest risk of exploitation if the system breaks.

One faulty mishandling of evidence, one break in the chain of custody, one hastily executed defense could be the next precedent that hangs an innocent person.

I won’t stand for that. Nor do I condone authoritarian violence. ” She glared at my black eye.

“I love you.”

The silence squatting on the heels of my confession had weight.

Honoria smiled. “If so, you’re a rarity lately. Thank you.” She gathered her papers and stood. “If you’re ready, we’ll get you in front of the court commissioner. You’ll have time to consider the offer, and I’ll keep you updated with any changes.”

I nodded.

I studied her as she stood with her back to me to make arrangements to get me uncuffed and transferred to the courtroom.

Her thin legs and high heels created muscular lines for my eyes to travel up the subtly defined curves of each calf.

She wore a navy skirt suit. It stopped just below her knees.

Conservative, but body-hugging as the narrow skirt cupped her ass.

Walt would think her too scrawny, but he had to be slapped in the face to notice anything that wasn’t a benefit to him.

The jacket tapered loosely at her waist. It was just baggy enough to whisper in my ear that she’d lost weight since it had been purchased.

Her narrow wrists and ankles were almost too thin.

But other than that, Honoria was iron-willed and squarely planted.

Crazily, I wondered who was in her corner. I’d like to be that man. The guy jumping in front of her if trouble came at her with both barrels.

But she wouldn’t accept that. Not if her reaction to Jim was any indication.

Nope. Honoria was a fierce protector. She’d need a man who could deal with that.

What was I thinking?

She didn’t need a man at all. I’m sure her battery-operated boyfriend worked just fine. And if it didn’t, she’d toss it. Just like she’d tossed her husband.