Chapter 8
Tuesday morning
Bay was already in the juvenile court interview room when Sabre walked in. She closed the door and took the chair across from the girl without speaking.
Bay watched her carefully. “You came back.”
Sabre folded her hands on the table. “I haven’t decided anything yet.”
The girl just stared at her.
Sabre held her gaze. “The hearing is tomorrow she said. “Judge Hammouri will ask whether I’m taking your case. And right now… I don’t know if I am.”
“Okay,” Bay said quietly.
Sabre studied her. “Why do you want me as your lawyer?”
After a moment, Bay said, “Because you’ll listen.”
Sabre shook her head. “That’s not enough.”
Bay frowned. “You don’t think I listen, do you?”
“I think you hear what people say,” Sabre countered. “That’s different.”
Bay held her gaze. “You don’t know me.”
“No,” Sabre said. “But I know this.” She leaned forward. “You tracked a man for days. You confronted him alone. You stabbed him.”
Bay’s jaw tightened.
“And you won’t tell me why.”
Bay shook her head. “I told you.”
“You told me he deserved it.” Sabre shook her head. “That’s not the same thing.”
Bay looked down at the table.
Sabre softened her voice. “If I take your case, I need the truth.”
Bay looked up again. “You won’t get all of it.”
“Then I won’t take the case.”
Bay stared at her.
Sabre held steady. “I’m not asking you to tell me everything right now. But you need to give me enough to understand what I’m walking into.”
For a moment Bay looked very young. “What do you want to know?” she asked.
“Why him?”
“He hurt someone.”
“Who?”
Bay shook her head. “I’m not telling you that.”
“Why can’t you tell me who he hurt?”
“Because I promised I wouldn’t.”
“Then tell me this,” she said. “What did he do?”
Bay’s fingers tightened on the edge of the table. “He doesn’t stop.” Bay’s voice was steady, but there was something underneath it now. Something controlled. “He finds people who can’t fight back.”
Sabre felt a chill move through her. “And then?”
“No one believes them.”
“He did this before?”
Bay nodded.
Sabre took a breath. “And you think he was going to do it again?”
“Yes.”
“To you?”
The girl shook her head. “No.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
Bay gave a small, humorless laugh. “Do you really have to ask?”
When Sabre didn’t respond, Bay said, “They wouldn’t have done anything. Not until it was too late.”
“So, you decided to handle it yourself?”
Bay nodded.
Sabre asked the question that mattered most. “When you confronted him, what happened?”
“He figured it out.”
“What do you mean?”
“He knew I wasn’t just some kid walking by. He started asking questions. And when I didn’t answer”—Bay shuddered—“he grabbed me. He was trying to find out what I knew. And if he figured that out…”
“So, you stabbed him?”
“Yes.”
“Because you thought he was going to hurt you.”
Bay met her eyes. “And someone else.”
Sabre let out a quiet breath. There it was. Not the whole truth, but enough to understand that Bay hadn’t hunted Maddox for revenge. She had gone after him because she believed someone was in danger.
“You’re still protecting them.” Sabre stood. “I don’t think I can help you.”
“You think I’m lying to you,” Bay said.
“I think you’re not telling me everything.”
“I told you enough.”
“No.”
“He would have hurt her.”
Both of them froze. The pronoun had slipped out.
“Her,” Sabre repeated softly.
Bay stiffened, her wall snapping back into place. “I didn’t say that.”
“Get some rest.”
Bay scowled. “That’s it?”
“For now.”
Sabre moved toward the door.
“Sabre Brown.”
She stopped.
“You’re going to take the case,” Bay said. It wasn’t a question.
Sabre turned back. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Bay held her gaze. “You will.”