Chapter 5 #3
I found a booth in the little break area near the entrance—one of those hard plastic seats that reminded me of middle school cafeterias—and pulled out my phone. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting everything in a sickly yellow glow.
I opened my email and started typing.
To: Dr. Hiram Atkins
Subject: Autopsy Report - Stephen Bentley - State vs. Kael Ironforge
Dr. Atkins,
My name is Sarah Potter, defense counsel of record in the above-referenced case. I'm writing to request a copy of the autopsy report for Stephen Bentley as soon as it's completed. As you know, the findings will be crucial to my client's defense.
Please send the report to my email at your earliest convenience.
Thank you for your professionalism and integrity.
Best regards,
Sarah Potter, Esq.
I hit send and immediately started composing another email.
To: Franklin County Clerk's Office
Subject: Request for Court Date - State v. Kael Ironforge
To whom it may concern,
I'm requesting a spot on Judge Farinholt's calendar six days from today for a motion to dismiss in the case of State v. Kael Ironforge. I believe new evidence will be available by that time that will exonerate my client. We should have all evidence available within five days.
Please confirm the date and time at your earliest convenience.
Thank you,
Sarah Potter, Esq.
Judge Farinholt was a fair man—impartial, measured, and not prone to the kind of prejudice that infected Dawson's worldview. If anyone would listen to the evidence with an open mind, it would be him.
I sent the email and tucked my phone back into my pocket. Five days. We just had to stay hidden for five days.
I grabbed the shopping bags and headed back to the car, my mind already running through the next steps. Get to the cabin, get settled, wait for Atkins's report, file the motion to dismiss—
I stopped dead in my tracks.
The car was empty.
The blanket was crumpled in the passenger seat, and Kael was gone.
"No," I whispered, my heart lurching into my throat. "No, no, no—"
I spun around, scanning the parking lot frantically. Where the hell had he gone? Had someone spotted him? Had Kael took to the mountains like he threatened? Had Dawson's deputies somehow tracked us here? Had—
Then I saw him.
He was crouched next to a beat-up sedan three rows over, his massive frame bent low as he worked on something near the rear wheel. An elderly woman stood beside him, her white hair glowing under the parking lot lights, her hands clasped together in gratitude.
I marched over, my pulse pounding in my ears, the shopping bags swinging at my sides.
"—never seen what all the fuss is about," the woman was saying as I approached. "Every Orc I've ever met has been a sweetheart. Just the kindest people."
Kael tightened the last lug nut and stood, wiping his hands on his pants. "It's no trouble, ma'am. Happy to help."
"You're an angel," she said, beaming up at him. Then, before I could process what was happening, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "An absolute angel."
Kael's face softened into something warm and genuine, and he ducked his head slightly. "You take care now. And get those tires checked soon—this one's pretty worn."
"I will, I will." She patted his arm and shuffled toward the driver's side of her car, still smiling.
I waited until she'd driven away before I spoke.
"What part of 'stay in the car' did you not understand?"
Kael turned to face me, completely unrepentant. "The part where I'm supposed to sit there and watch an elderly woman struggle to change a tire in the middle of the night."
"You were supposed to stay hidden—"
"She needed help, Sarah."
"You're a fugitive—"
"She's an elder." His voice was firm, brooking no argument. "I wasn't going to let her hurt herself trying to wrestle with a tire iron."
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. Because of course he wasn't. Of course he'd risk exposure, risk capture, risk everything to help someone who needed it.
"I guess what I've always heard about you is true," I said finally, my voice softer than I intended. "You really do have a thing for human women."
Something flickered in his amber eyes—amusement, maybe, or something deeper. "Yeah," he said simply. "I do."
The way he said it—the way he was looking at me—made my stomach flip. There was a weight to his words, a meaning beneath the surface that I couldn't quite grasp but could definitely feel.
We stood there in the parking lot, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, the night air cool against my flushed skin. Something electric hummed between us, something that made my pulse quicken and my breath catch.
I looked away first, breaking the moment before it could become something I'd have to acknowledge.
"Come on," I said, my voice brisk and professional. "We need to get to the cabin before sunrise."
I turned and headed back to the car, my heart still racing, my skin still tingling from the way he'd looked at me.
Some things were worth fighting for.
But some things were too dangerous to even think about.