Breath Of Life

“It’s okay to speak openly. I feel the same way—”

“Yeah, times a million. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”

I hold out my hand. “You were being real. Where are they going to keep us during the trial?” I ask.

“Some hotel nearby I’d imagine. There’s no way we can make this three-hour drive every day. I know that much.” I keep my voice low. They don’t like it when we speculate. She rests her hand on my shoulder and steps into heels that put her at my height.

“That’s true. I don’t bother asking anymore because they never tell me, and if I guess too close, they get edgy.” I roll my eyes.

“A few more days and we’ll be done.” She kisses my cheek and walks over to the bed where our suitcases sit. We pack i

n silence, and I take her bag as we walk out of the room for the last time.

“You clean up nice,” Carter says.

“Thank you.”

He scowls, and I smirk. Quinn cups my face. “He’s so pretty it hurts.”

“You two ready for this?” Johnson asks, bringing things to a more serious note.

We exchange a look.

“We’re ready, “I say.

We follow them out of the cabin and into the black sedan with heavily tinted windows. Everything boils down to this. The thought of putting justice in the hands of others doesn’t sit well with me. I tense and peer out the window as we pull away and onto the road. Going to a quiet place in my mind, I sink back in my seat. Soon this will all come to a close.

Chapter Thirteen

Quinn

I want to say I walked into the courtroom like a boss. I want to, but I’m not prone to lies. Instead, I held my head high, focused on taking one step after another, and faked it. The aisles were full of people. Some I recognized and wished I didn’t, and others I speculated. As I lifted my right hand to swear in, the narrowed gaze of the men I swore were a part of the gang rattled me. I knew all too well what they were capable of. Clutching the edge of my skirt, I answered the questions thrown my way. It was like being in a mudslinging fight as the defense lawyer tried to get me to admit I wasn’t sure his client was the right man.

“Do you mean to tell me despite your duress, the dark hooded clothing, and the poor lighting, you can say with one hundred percent certainty, my client is the man who committed these heinous crimes against Oliver Hemnway?”

“With all due respect, sir, there are some faces you don’t forget,” I reply quietly.

“I have no further questions, your honor.” Mr. Dominguez spins on the heels of his shiny shoes and returns to his table.

“You may leave the stand, Ms. Fleming,” the judge says.

I nod my head and stand on shaking feet. He’s there. The man who nearly took Ollie’s life, and planned to do God knows what. He’s watching me with those fathomless black eyes, and smirking like he knows something I don’t. My stomach sours.

I force my hand to remain open at my sides as I retrace my steps across the floor. My vision blurs, and I struggle to contain the tears. I won’t let them see how close they’ve come to breaking me. Was this enough? Did I sound convincing? My gaze latches onto the door where I know Carter, Johnson, and Ollie wait.

The creak of a seat turns my head to the right. I focus a split second before I’m knocked to the floor by a body. My head bounces off the floor, and I fight the darkness as I tuck my feet close to my chest and push. The weight flies off me, and I scramble back in a crab walk. Allie. She lunges at me again. Stumbling to my feet, I throw a right hook followed by a jab that sends her flailing back into the arms of a uniformed man. I’m surrounded by a small army of officers and quickly escorted out.

“What the hell happened?” Carter barks.

“Some woman attacked her out of the blue.”

“We need to lock both of them down.”

“It was Allie.”

“Shit. It was my son’s mother. It’s not gang related,” Ollie says as he cups my face and tilts it back. “Are you okay, sassy?”

“I have a massive headache.”