17 Kimber
After the disastrous friend arrangement, I’m almost glad I can’t go back to Sins yet. The dismissal I promised Jo so I could prove my case was nowhere to be found, and after several missed calls to James he finally called me back.
The case was supposed to be dismissed, but they are trying to appeal. Not even just appeal, but force a charge of some sort. Murder didn’t work, so now it’s premeditated murder and negligence that the gun went off at all.
I think that’s what the paper said anyway. It was delivered certified mail to my job of all places two hours ago, and my only saving grace was no one was around to see my mortification.
For being the so-called victim, everyone’s done a fantastic job making me feel like a villain. It’s hard to be happy that I lived through something traumatic when very few people are actually happy with me.
It makes my mind drift to Rich, who stayed at my apartment for the entire night despite the fact that I basically trapped him there.
That was three days ago, and between our work schedules I haven’t had the chance to see him again.
He’s got a crazy amount of deliveries ahead of Halloween next week, and it makes it difficult to see him.
I miss his presence, and I feel a little foolish saying that. There wouldn’t be anything to miss if I didn’t decide to rattle off his address one night to my driver. Now we’re tangled together, and I still don’t know if that’s benefiting or hindering me.
“Hey look!” a guy calls, speaking to his girlfriend halfway across the store. They’ve been here a while and look like they are going a little overboard getting themed things for the holiday. “Candy corn butt plug, babe.”
Yep. Some things don’t need a dash of Halloween; they’re fine just the way they are.
A few minutes pass as I scroll on my phone, missing the little plastic bottles I usually have to get me through the shift.
Rich mentioned over the phone yesterday that he thought maybe I could find a way to cope that didn’t involve drinking, and I wasn’t sure how to respond.
I’ve never tried, and to be honest, alcohol is a comfort.
The door jingles and I glance over, doing a double take when I recognize the person walking into the store. He looks out of place in the snazzy suit, his hair perfectly styled like usual, and I can admit I’ve never actually seen the man not wearing a suit.
“David,” I say, surprised. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“That’s because I prefer to shop at Sins,” he tells me, pausing to lean against the counter.
He’s a good looking man, he’s just never quite been my type.
His hair is thick and a little shaggy on top, yet he’s still had it styled in that effortless way guys tend to do their hair.
His blue eyes study me as we stand together, and I nervously find myself shifting back.
He’s never been here before so… why now?
“You haven’t been to the club in weeks,” he says, and I’m stunned enough that he would even remember something like that that my response is delayed.
I gape like a fish for too many moments before finally finding my senses. “How did you even notice that?”
“Well Callie’s kind of in a mood,” he says knowingly, causing me to snort. “She seems to miss you. Nate too. In fact I’ve heard several regulars inquire about you.”
That feels… good? When people worry about you though, there’s a chance you’ll somehow fail them, and that just fills me with dread. I clear my throat and attempt to act casual. “I see.”
David nods, and I can tell there’s more. There’s always more. “Emilio mentioned something about court documents delivered in an unaddressed envelope?”
Goddamnit. “I see he’s oversharing.”
“It’s just a curious thing to hear about when you’re suddenly missing from the club,” he says, and there’s no judgment in his tone. There’s definitely curiosity, but so far he’s not pushing. He’s almost businesslike. “Kimber, you do know I’m a defense attorney, right?”
My gut tightens, and I lean back from him. “I’m aware.”
He tilts his head. “If you don’t have a good attorney on your side, things can go to shit really quickly. Whatever the problem was, did your attorney do a good job resolving it?”
I blink at him. This can't seriously be real, but he seems to be genuinely curious. “It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated like your case is complicated or complicated because your attorney did a terrible job explaining things to you and now you're lost?”
I grind my teeth together. “Have you been talking to Rich?”
“Recently? No.” He gives me a pointed look. “You’re sure things are handled? It’s weird not having you at the club and if there’s something I could do to help, I’d like to.”
My eyes narrow a little. Someone had to tip him off that things aren’t going great, but I can’t quite decide who. David is good friends with Emilio and Russell, so there’s a chance Rich said nothing to him and they did. “You just want to… help.”
David rolls his eyes. “Sometimes people just like to be nice, Kimber. Even Myla mentioned that you’ve been missing lately.”
Oh, well, Myla is nice. I know that once she joined all her friends followed, and it's just been waves of new people since. She’s been with the club now for more than a year, and I figured since we never interact that I would be nothing more than background noise in her head.
The only reason I’ve ever even noticed the couple is because Myla has an exhibition kink and David seems to have no problem at all showing her off.
I clear my throat, glancing away. “I don’t need pity, David.”
“No,” he agrees. “You need a kick ass attorney in case your current one has dropped the ball.”
Meeting his gaze, I try to find the lies. He seems earnest, and if people like David and Myla have noticed my absence, others will too. Callie tried to text her a few days ago and I blew her off because…
I’m not entirely sure why. I could text back. Make up an excuse for where I am. But lying is exhausting, and it feels like that’s all I do nowadays. Sometimes it's just easier to stay quiet.
The bell goes off again, and I glance up to see Bobby walking in. The couple with all the Halloween items is still wandering around, a basket tucked into the guy’s elbow. At least they haven’t tried to steal anything yet.
I meet David’s gaze again and offer my boss a half wave. Trusting someone so close to the club is a dangerous gamble, but if he’s willing to offer and he’s good at his job like people say, am I shooting myself in the foot by not at least talking to him?
In the back of my mind, I think of Rich.
He doesn’t say it all the time, but I know he wants to help me.
It’s clear in the way he’s taken me to clubs, comforted me, and even let me cry on him.
He’s interested in me, and I think even chatting with David would make him happy.
At least it would sound like I tried to do something.
Sighing, I glance at Bobby. He’s on his phone, brushing back his messy black hair and adjusting the backwards hat on his head. “Hey Kimber.”
I clear my throat, already reaching for my bag. “Hey Bobby. I’m taking my break.”
~~~
“How much do I have to tell you?” I ask hesitantly, leaning on the side of the building.
He offered to go sit in his car when I admitted I didn’t have mine here (not that I’d tell this man I don’t have a car at all) but that felt like being trapped.
Not that David’s trying to trap me, but being in a car alone with someone always feels like a trap.
He’d notice right away if I did something strange like sitting in the backseat, and then I’d have to answer questions.
He clicks his tongue. “Do you have any of the paperwork? I don’t know if you’re comfortable letting me see that, but if you have the latest document I can take a look and give you an idea if there’s something I can do to help you.
Milo didn’t seem to really know what the court document was for; he was pretty vague. ”
Well, thank fuck for Emilio not being a gossip. I think about the only copies I have at the moment, and it’s going to raise more questions.
Questions I haven’t even told Rich. “Are you going to, you know, tell anyone about this?”
His eyes flash. “Kimber, your case is confidential. It should always be that way with any attorney you speak to. If someone is sharing your private information that’s a massive breach.”
I shake my head quickly. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean, like, if someone at the club asked…”
His eyes soften a bit. “Same thing. I don’t share client’s information, no matter who they are. I don’t even get into the details of things with Myla once we’re off the clock. I’m not going to tell anyone.” He smiles. “Even Rich.”
I groan. “Are there any secrets at S&S anymore?”
He chuckles. “Probably still a few.”
I still hesitate, fingering the envelope.
Another delivery, another round of messages.
I used to think it was duplicates being sent over and over again, but there’s different messages all the time.
Once I realized that, I stopped reading them.
“I just want the case dismissed, okay? I - I want to not be guilty for what I did. I don’t want anything else. ”
His brows furrow, and he stops my hand when I go to drag out the papers. “Kimber, if there’s something serious or threatening that you want to show me, we can always schedule an appointment. Fuck it, I’ll squeeze you in on the calendar this afternoon if you’d like to meet in office.”
I swallow. “You didn’t think I’d have something serious to show you?”
“I honestly thought you would just open an email,” he says, his hand staying just above mine. He’s not touching me, just staring at me. “Do we need to schedule an appointment?”
Before I can lose my nerve, I tug out the papers and David’s hand falls away. “No. Not yet anyway. Just ignore the blacked out parts and read.”