Chapter 13
HAILEY
“Wait!”
I ducked under one man’s outstretched arm and ran, slamming into the back of another.
The stranger grabbed me by my upper arms. “Hey sexy, where are you going so fast?”
I looked past him and panicked. Madison’s crappy attorney was getting away. “Let me go!”
I wrenched free and shoved at the closing courtroom doors.
They swung open into chaos.
Reporters crowded around the entrance typing furiously into their phones or sitting on the marble tiles with their laptops balanced on their crossed legs. For such a small freaking town they sure had a lot of damn reporters.
Fucking Worthingtons.
I rose on my toes and searched the crowd over the tops of all the heads.
It took a second to spot his wrinkled cheap brown suit where he stood, stuffing the rest of his files into his briefcase and snapping it closed.
I sprinted after him. Lunging forward, I snatched at his sleeve as I called out, “Fink, stop!”
He turned and pulled his arm free. Smoothing the rumpled suit fabric as if it would make any difference, he huffed. “It’s Finkle.”
“Right, Mr. Finkle, whatever. What are you doing?”
His brow furrowed. “I’m leaving.”
“You can’t leave. Madison still needs your help.”
He wagged his finger at me. “No, I’m finished. I did my job. I can’t help her now.”
“You can’t do this. You’re still her attorney. Didn’t you take some kind of oath or vow or something?”
“I provided her a defense. There is a verdict. Just because she jumped up in court and embarrassed everyone by crying out, doesn’t change the fact the trial is over. Now let me pass.”
Uncaring about the consequences, I held up my palms, blocking his cowardly retreat. “This isn’t over. She’s innocent and you fucking know it. Stop being such a momma’s boy idiot and do something about it—or have the Worthingtons paid you off like everyone else?”
Her numbnuts attorney had either been paid to look the other way or was too spineless to fight. Either way, he wasn’t walking away from this.
Finkle breathed heavily through his nose several times as his eyes bulged. He then scrunched up his face and thinned his lips. He swung the arm holding his bulging briefcase back, then forward, hitting me square in the stomach.
My arms wrapped around my middle as I doubled over.
Finkle’s overstuffed briefcase burst open on impact, sending a shower of papers, files, and various pens onto the courthouse lobby floor.
I smirked; it served him right for hitting me.
Finkle cried out as the crowd trampled his papers beneath their shoes.
Straightening, I clenched my fists and stepped forward, ready to confront him again.
Instead, I crashed into a wall of a man who planted himself in my path, completely blocking my view.
He grabbed Finkle by his grubby tie and lifted him off his feet.
Despite all the surrounding noise, I could hear his softly growled command. “Apologize to the lady.”
Finkle choked, clawing at the wrists holding him up. He tried calling out for help but either the security guards didn’t hear or didn’t care, because none came.
The stranger repeated his order. “Apologize to the lady, now.”
My attention darted between them. Finkle was either going to pass out from fear or pee himself. Probably both.
I moved to the right and craned my neck, way up, to get a look at him.
My knight in shining armor looked more like Superman’s evil twin. I hadn’t seen this face before. I would have remembered. He was tall and muscular with ink-black hair worn slicked back.
I found myself leaning in, and when he looked at me, all the air left my body. He was, quite frankly, the most arrestingly handsome man I’d ever seen.
Which didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
I had no idea what was happening to Madison behind those doors, and no one in that courtroom had lifted a finger to stop it.
Not the judge. Not her attorney. Not me.
The last image I had of Madison slammed into my mind—her face white with panic as the guards wrenched her arms back and hauled her through the courtroom doors.
I should have been finding a way to help her, not standing here gawking at some man.
He returned his attention to Finkle who had turned an alarming shade of mottled purple as he squeaked out an apology.
The man released his grip. Finkle landed on his feet but then stumbled and fell back on his ass.
He got onto his knees and scurried around the floor like a crab, picking up his papers as he continued to sputter apologies.
That was when the man focused on me.
Holy shit. As if his height wasn’t intimidating enough, the direct stare he leveled at me from those deep blue, almost black eyes was…unsettling.
I dropped my gaze to the floor and mumbled, “Thank you for your help.”
“What the fuck were you thinking?”
Startled by his harsh tone, my head snapped up. “What?”
He took a step forward.
I stepped back.
He kept coming at me until my back was pressed against the cold marble wall.
Around me everything seemed to move in slow motion. All sound was muffled. The focus of my world narrowed to only this tall, enigmatic stranger. It was…disorienting.
I tried to shimmy past him as if we were passing on a sidewalk. “Excuse me.”
With his hands on his hips, he shifted his stance to block my path and then repeated his angry question. “I said, what the fuck were you thinking?”
Okay, it was fun seeing all over six feet of him making Finkle squirm, but now that all that anger was directed at me? Not so much. My mouth opened and closed several times before I could respond. I then played dumb. “I don’t know what you mean?”
“Why would you confront a man alone like that? Where is your husband?”
I crossed my arms over my middle and raised my chin. “I don’t have a husband or a boyfriend. And I wasn’t alone! I’m in the middle of a freaking courthouse…and….and…I don’t need a man to fight my battles for me.”
There. That told him.
His dark brow furrowed, giving his hooded eyes an even more sinister edge. “Apparently you do. What is your name?”
“What’s yours?” I fired back.
“Greyson Stockford. Now are you going to tell me your name,” his eyes dropped to my mouth, “or do I have to switch tactics to get the information out of you?”
I blinked. It was impossible to look around his enormous frame to see if anyone was observing our highly unusual exchange, or if anyone was coming to my rescue.
I had no idea where Rylee was and thought of crying out, but somehow, I knew I wouldn’t have any more success than poor Finkle over there. “It’s Hailey.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked; I was forcing him to drag the information out of me. “Hailey, what?”
I bit my lip, not wanting to give this stranger my full name.
He remained firm. His only response a raised eyebrow. Making it clear I wasn’t passing until he’d gotten his answer. I relented. “Hailey Wrenn.”
“That doesn’t work for me.”
I didn’t even know how to respond.
He stretched his arm out and ran two fingertips over the curve of my jaw. “A wren is a plain little bird. There is nothing plain about you.”
I gave myself a mental shake. Captivating or not, I didn’t have time for this. I twisted my head to the side to break his touch. “I have to go. My friend needs me.”
“Who’s your friend?”
This time I didn’t try to play games. “Madison Hastings.” I tilted my chin out, ready to counter any snarky comment he might make about my innocent friend being a murderer.
“Madison Hastings? The woman on trial for killing Jameson Worthington?”
“She didn’t kill that bastard. She wasn’t the one driving. She’s being framed. And if you don’t—”
“I believe you.”
“—believe me, you can just fuck right off. Wait. What did you just say?”
He chuckled. “You really are adorable when you get all puffed up and angry. I said, I believe you.”
“You believe me?” Tears sprang to my eyes. I swiped at them. I hated my reaction, but I had been defending Madison for weeks now to anyone who would bother to listen, and he was the first person outside of our friend Rylee to say they believed me.
I pulled away from him, but he placed his hand on the other side of my head, holding me in place. “Let me go.” It was too good to be true, and I had almost been dumb and desperate enough to trust him.
Greyson’s stare hardened as he glanced over his shoulder. “No, we need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
He seized my wrist and dragged me through the lobby and out the courthouse doors. “Good, because I have plenty to say to you, and I hate being interrupted.”
I yanked back with all my strength but to no effect. He didn’t even break his stride.
What the hell was happening?