Chapter 18
Quinn
Preston Holloway stood in the doorway of the Ramsey’s bed-and-breakfast like he belonged there. His gaze shifted between Graham and me, his brow creasing.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said tersely, eyes locking on mine.
I gaped at him. He was waiting for me?
In a panic, I mentally scanned my schedule, wondering if I’d missed some meeting we had discussed but…it was Saturday. Since when did we have meetings on Saturday afternoons?
“Why are you here?” I tried not to sound as stunned as I felt.
Preston drew up to his full height, pushing his shoulders back and lifting his chin. “I came to visit you. Didn’t you get my email?”
Visit me? Slowly, I shook my head. I had not gotten any email from him about a visit. I slipped my phone from my pocket. I hadn’t paid much attention to it because I didn’t have great reception near the OCU campus.
I tapped on my email and grimaced at the newest message that hadn’t loaded until now. “Oh.” I glanced back up at him. “I must’ve missed it. What did you need?”
Preston’s gaze cut to Graham. “Could we speak somewhere more private?”
“Of course,” I said automatically. “We can talk in my room.”
Preston took a step back into the house, but I hesitated. Graham’s face was mostly placid, arranged into that carefully constructed mask I was beginning to recognize. But his eyes were a blazing blue as he stared at Preston.
Graham had to know who Preston was; he’d seen him in court the day we met. I had no idea why he was staring at him like that.
“What’s wrong?” Preston’s voice jerked me out of my pondering over Graham.
I waved a dismissive hand as I hastily stepped inside. “Nothing.”
I didn’t look back to see whether Graham followed me into his parents’ house. The smell of savory meat and baking bread wafted through the foyer from the kitchen. I faintly heard Raleigh speaking with Warner as she was making dinner.
“Follow me,” I mumbled, keeping my head down, hoping Preston wouldn’t think it appropriate to stay for food. Knowing Raleigh, she had already invited him to her table that night.
I raced up the staircase, Preston trailing behind me.
My brain scrambled to make sense of his sudden arrival.
I’d had meager contact with him since he’d dumped me here.
I’d sent him regular emails updating him on my work, notes on discovery, and different angles we could frame the evidence or other possible witnesses.
I’d barely gotten any responses.
My heart had lodged in my throat by the time I unlocked the door to my room and I invited him inside.
“What’s going on?” I hissed, the moment the door closed.
Preston sauntered a few paces into my bedroom, looking idly around the space. His gaze lingered on the furniture I’d shoved in front of the windows. I forced myself not to feel embarrassed about it in front of him.
Placing his hands casually on his narrow hips, Preston turned back toward me. He studied me, taking in the old Cardinals’ jersey and the signed cap clutched in my grip.
“Have fun at the game?” He arched a brow.
I kept my face as impassive as possible, shrugging. “It was something to do.”
Preston chuckled under his breath as I laid the precious cap on the nightstand.
“I’m surprised you had time for such a long trip. For a football game, no less.”
Something in the undertone of his voice had me suddenly on alert.
“As far as I was aware, you’ve had your hands full with the most important case of your career.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, straightening my spine so he wouldn’t notice the pang of fear his tone sent through me. “I’ve been putting everything I have into this case.”
He glowered as he ate up the space between us.
I forced myself not to flinch back as he plucked at my jersey, the worn fabric straining as he did so.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” he said, his voice a soft hiss. “You seem…distracted, Carpenter.”
My cheeks heated. I gave him my hardest glare, but I was only met with a smirk.
“I am not distracted, Preston,” I said, tone as icy as my stare.
Preston’s smirk widened. “No?” he said.
I realized for the first time just how close he was as he leaned in. The potent smell of his cologne burned my nose.
“Do you want to be?” He ran a hand along my shoulder and up the side of my neck. The entire mood shifted.
I bit back a cringe as he fisted the hair at the nape of my neck, forcing my face up toward his. I snapped my jaw closed tight, but I knew that look on his face. His eyes were like hot coals, hungry and wanting.
My knees started to tremble.
“It’s been a long time, Quinn,” he whispered in my ear, his minty breath sending chills down my spine. “I think I’ve almost forgotten what you taste like.”
I didn’t have a chance to protest before his mouth was on mine, kissing me so hard I flinched.
I froze, my body locking up as my mind spiraled into panic.
Preston and I had been together before. I knew how this worked. I knew how he worked. I had always known what was expected of me in moments like this, and I had taken on that duty because of where I wanted to go in my career.
Earning his favor had its benefits, like getting placed on the biggest cases. Like I was now.
But somehow, things were different.
As Preston’s lips moved over mine, hard and demanding, I couldn’t force myself to reciprocate. I couldn’t make a muscle move. This was all blaringly not worth it.
Preston didn’t seem dissuaded by my reaction to him—or lack of one. He kept going, kept taking. His hands moved down from my hair and started tugging at my jacket. My pulse spiked even more, and the moment his lips moved from my mouth, biting and sucking nauseatingly down my neck, I gasped.
Breathe. I needed to breathe.
Though I’d been practicing the breath techniques Graham had taught me, I couldn’t focus. It was too much.
I froze.
“P-Preston,” I stuttered, my wobbling lips fumbling the words. “You need to stop.”
He didn’t seem to hear me, though, as he finally tugged off my jacket and started pulling at the hem of my jersey. I cried out as he bit down on the juncture of my neck and shoulder so hard pain lanced across my skin.
The sound of tearing broke through my frozen, shocked mind. I jerked back and looked down. His hand was fisted into the bottom of the jersey; a large rip in the fabric made it hang loose as he tried to get it off of me.
My heart stuttered, and suddenly, the terror and panic melted away to rage.
He leaned forward again, hands still groping.
“I said to stop!” I almost screamed the words, and before I could think, my body moved.
My hand flew up, the heel of my palm slamming straight into the base of his nose. The impact jolted up my arm.
Preston reeled back with a sharp, guttural sound, hands flying to his face. “What the fuck?” he shouted, eyes watering as blood ran down his chin.
I created more space between us, backing as far away as I could until my back hit the opposite wall. My chest heaved, hands shaking, but I remained steady. My feet planted in the defensive stance Graham had taught me, ready for whatever happened next.
“I told you that you needed to stop, Preston,” I spat, sounding less lethal and more breathless.
Preston’s face pinched in disgust and pain. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He carefully removed his hands, staring wide-eyed at the blood covering them. His nose looked bruised, but not broken. At least I didn’t think so; I hadn’t heard a snap. I was slightly disappointed.
“What gives you the right to assault me?”
I bristled at the acid in his voice.
“Assault you?” I snapped, my muscles coiling, ready to strike out at him again if he gave me any excuse to. “There was only one person doing the assaulting here, and it wasn’t me.”
Preston stared at me, looking me up and down like he was truly seeing me for the first time. He let out a tight huff of air as he straightened. “Don’t pretend you haven’t found this arrangement mutually beneficial.”
My body deflated at that. I leaned back against the wall for support. Embarrassment ate at me. And shame. It all bore down on me until I couldn’t breathe.
I looked up at Preston. “I want off the case.”
I hadn’t thought much about it before the words left my mouth, but I realized it was true. Spending time with the Ramseys, with the Cardinals fans on the Bird Bus, had chipped away at something in me. I had always put aside any judgment of my clients. It was what was required in criminal defense.
But I wasn’t sure I could be fully unbiased anymore.
He looked at me with more disbelief than he had when I’d hit him in the nose. “What?” he snapped.
My heart was beating so fast, I felt dizzy. “I want off the Amos Anderson case. Let me go back to Cincinnati. Let me take care of my other clients.”
My fingers curled into fists so tight my knuckles ached.
Preston cocked his head to the side, glaring at me. “I’m surprised,” he said, voice nasally as he used his crisp dress sleeve to stanch the blood. “I thought you cared more.”
“You know I care about my job more than anything,” I muttered between clenched teeth. “But I—I don’t think I’m a good fit for this case.”
“More than anything?” A muscle fluttered in his cheek. “I’m not sure that’s true.”
I shuddered. Maybe he was right. “You don’t need me for this case.” I looked away.
He gingerly pinched the bridge of his nose, but the bleeding was subsiding. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered.
I clenched my teeth, but didn’t argue. “I can be more useful in the office, I promise.”
It didn’t feel right, like I was begging him to give me permission to excuse myself. But Preston had a lot of power and I’d already put so much of my life into the firm.
His eyes were hard, glinting like flint in the fading daylight. “Sure, Carpenter,” he said, almost softly.
For a moment, I loosed a breath of relief.
But then he continued. “But I don’t think you should come back to the office at all.”
The floor fell out from under me as I comprehended what he said. That didn’t make sense.
“What do you mean?” I asked, convinced he wasn’t saying what I thought he was.
“The fact that you’re willing to walk away from a case like this, a case that could define your career, tells me all I need to know. I don’t need someone like that on my team.”
My arms dropped, limp and numb, at my sides. “You’re not firing me.”
“No?”
His voice was so cold that I shivered.
“Because I’m pretty sure I am.”
I shook my head. “No.” It felt like the world was coming to an abrupt stop. My heart pounded in my ears. “You can’t do that.” I took a step toward him. “Preston, please—”
He scoffed and drew back. “Don’t. You’ve made your decision, Carpenter. I would’ve fought for you, but if you want nothing to do with me, I’m not going to waste my time.”
My head kept shaking side to side in denial. “Preston,” I whispered, feeling pathetic and small and as powerless as I’ve ever felt in my entire life. “I—I’m sorry.”
Through the shock and panic, I couldn’t make the apology sound convincing. Preston watched me intently, like he was waiting for something. His nose was starting to swell.
This had to be a joke. Some sick game he was playing with me. He couldn’t be firing me right now. Not after everything.
“There has to be…something else that I can do.” I sounded every ounce as desperate as I felt.
“No.” Preston sneered. “I don’t want you anymore.”
My veins went hot and cold all at once at the malice in his tone.
He headed for the door and he left, shattering my world in his wake.
I stared after Preston for a long moment, my heart racing so fast I thought I might vomit. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, trying to understand what had happened. Eventually, I forced myself to move.
I couldn’t be still any longer.
My gaze darted around the empty room, wild and unfocused, searching for something—anything—to ground me. I reached for my brother’s watch, touched the smooth surface, but it didn’t help. The space around me felt smaller, the air too thick to breathe. I couldn’t be in here another moment.
I grabbed my purse and rushed for the door, my pulse pounding as I stumbled down the stairs.
I paused in the foyer. No one was around, but I heard noise coming from the kitchen—pots clattering, Raleigh’s easy laughter, and Hailey’s little voice singing show tunes. She was Graham’s niece who often spent time here when her dad was working.
Beneath it all, was Graham’s deep, steady tone threading through everything.
My attention locked onto the archway that led to that cozy, light-filled kitchen.
No one could see me standing there, but part of me longed to go in—to sit at the table and eat dinner with a family like the Ramseys.
I took a step forward, but a sharp pang hit my chest as Preston’s angry face flashed in my mind.
I don’t want you anymore.
I swallowed back the bitter taste rising in my throat. No one had ever really wanted me. I didn’t belong there in that lovely kitchen with a real family.
I turned on my heel and slipped out the front door quietly, making sure no one heard me go.