Conflicted

It is? I glance at my clock and realize she’s right. “Shit, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Lucky for you, I’m a night owl,” she giggles. “Also lucky for you is that I find you amusing. Aren’t you supposed to wait four days before calling me so you don’t look too desperate? I’m pretty sure that’s a rule, and if it’s not, then it should be.”

“You’re making me sorry I called you,” I growl as she giggles. “So, do you wanna go out sometime or not?”

“How can I refuse an offer like that?” she asks, her tone teasing. “I’m beginning to understand why you’re single.”

“Is this your way of saying no?” I grumble, my ego feeling bruised.

“I haven’t said no,” she says indignantly. “I’d love to go out with you, Lucas.”

I put down my phone, feeling a mix of satisfaction and anxiety. Eva seems like a nice chick, but keeping people at a distance is what I do. Even Lace. It’s why I cruise from girl to girl, and why Lace is always on at me that I’m going to end up alone. I know I’m going to end up old and alone. That’s a given. The last thing I want to do is fuck around Eva, and I can’t help but think that is the only place this is headed.

It hasn’t even begun and already we’re an accident waiting to happen.

Chapter Fourteen

Lacey

Aaron isn’t around when I arrive at work the next day, and I don’t see him until after lunch. I’m relieved to find he’s left me plenty of files to scour through, so I don’t have to invent things to make myself look busy.

He swaggers in just as I’m leaving for my lunch break, his briefcase tucked under his arm, a crooked smile on his lips. He directs his gaze at me, and a shiver races through me. He always manages to look so damn sexy.

“Going somewhere?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Lunch,” I reply, my face heating. God, I’ll blush at anything.

“Have Rebecca order in for both of us. I’ll just have my usual. I want your opinion on this.” He pulls out a thick file from his briefcase and tosses it at me.

I fumble forward and miss the catch.

He chuckles as I fall to my knees to gather the documents. “Sorry, I guess I put too much force into that.”

His playful tone has me feeling all sorts of embarrassment and I don’t dare look at him. I put the file back on the desk and go out to find Rebecca. I order his “usual” and a sandwich for myself.

Over lunch, he has me reading the case notes of a court trial with similar circumstances to this one, where the defence pleaded insanity. The defendant ended up being remanded to a psychiatric facility indefinitely.

“What do you think?” he asks, finishing his roll. He sweeps the crumbs off his desk and tosses the wrapper into the trash. “Does anything about this stand out for you?”

I study the notes again. Then it hits me.

“He wasn’t actually tried for the crime because he was deemed unfit to stand trial. So that means he’ll never be released from the psych facility without having to stand trial,” I say slowly.

“Yes, exactly. As a defence lawyer, do you think that is a good result?”

“But I’m not a defence lawyer.” I grin. “As someone potentially working in a facility that offenders like this might be placed in, I think it is. It gets him out of the community, reduces the risk of him reoffending, and at least gives him the chance of rehabilitation. Would his cooperation and the success of his treatment be taken into consideration in a trial?” I ask, curious.

“Yes, for sentencing it would be. He might spend twenty years in a facility and then be deemed fit enough to stand trial, but that would rarely happen. Once they hit that point they are generally in there forever.”

I hesitate. That almost seems unfair. My sympathy shocks me, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Aaron looks at me, eyebrows raised, as if waiting for me to share.

“You said you went into defending people because everyone deserves a fair trial. But is this fair? They’re essentially locking someone up without giving them a trial. I get that they’re not competent to stand trial, but still…”

Aaron looks pleased. “Now you’re getting it. As their lawyer, my job would be fighting to ensure their rights aren’t violated. If they’re not fit to stand trial, then the best place for them is a psychiatric facility that is equipped to help them. What I have to do is ensure they’re receiving the help they need, and whether they are improving.”

I nod, finally understanding why he’s so invested in what he does. As horrible as some crimes are, the circumstances are not always clear. In cases like this, it’s his efforts that will make my job easier.

We continue to talk about Duane and other cases until late into the day. When we finally take a break, I’m surprised to see the office is empty. I glance at my watch. Wow, it’s nearly seven. How did it get so late?