I meet Ravil’s pale blue gaze and swallow.
“He would say, every man I defend is someone’s son. Someone’s brother. Someone’s father. If you were a doctor, you wouldn’t refuse to treat a man because he’d been accused of a crime. You’d do your job. My job is to help him through our legal system, which would be difficult for him to navigate on his own. Just because I stand up in court and touch his shoulder and make him relatable to the jury doesn’t mean I approve or condone what he’s done. But I am going to do my job representing him.”
“And you feel the same?” Ravil asks.
I draw an unsteady breath and nod. “Yes.”
“But you do judge them. Even when you represent them? You won’t condone a criminal?”
The late afternoon sun’s dropped behind a building. The breeze against my wet skin suddenly makes me cold.
The truth is, despite what I just resolved to do—to research Ravil’s background and deeds—I’m not sure I want to know. I’m afraid of what I’ll find.
Which must mean… I’m starting to care about the man. And I don’t want to know if he’s as bad as I originally imagined.
I don’t want to know how many graves he’s dug.
Or women he’s kidnapped—apart from me.
I shake my head. “My judgements and feelings are irrelevant. My job is to guide them through the legal system.”
“Do you work harder if you believe they’re innocent?”
I look down at my fingernails. I keep them short but polished with a French manicure. They’re getting chipped. “Honestly? I don’t think that way. Sometimes, the less I know, the better. I make my case based on the prosecutor’s. It’s not about working harder. It’s more about how solid or weak the case is. If any procedures were violated on the part of the police or prosecution.”
“So you don’t care if Adrian set the fire or not?”
“No,” I answer immediately. “Honestly? My assumption is he did. That won’t stop me from doing my best to get him off.”
“Will you be able to get him off?”
I lift my shoulders. “I have a good chance. Their case isn’t great. I can probably show bias based on the fact that he’s an immigrant. Of course, a jury might have the same bias. But if we’re lucky, I can stop this thing before it goes to trial.”
“Was he working for you?” My throat tightens as I ask the question. I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
“Are you building your personal case against me?”
Yes.
“No.”
“Do you believe your laws are perfect, Lucy?”
“Of course not.”
“Do you think there may be reasons to break your laws that still fall under a code of what’s right and wrong?”
I go still, knowing he’s telling me something here. I’m not sure I want to hear it.
“Yes,” I admit. “I’m sure there are. I’ve argued cases like that before.”
Ravil simply nods and climbs to his feet. “I’m sure you’re getting hungry.” He offers me a hand.
I take it and let him help me to stand. “Famished.” I sigh because I’m almost always famished these days.
“What do you want to eat tonight? I’ll take you out... if you like.”
Huh. Guess the warden is not that much of a hardass.
“I’m tired, actually. And…” I give him an impish grin. “Are there any perogies left?” I’ve been thinking about the damn meat pies all day long. They are definitely my new pregnancy craving.
Ravil’s lips twist into a grin. “I think there are. I’ll make sure we always have some on hand for you, kitten.” He holds a towel open for me just like young Leo had for his teen girlfriend.
Maybe it’s the sweetness of that image or maybe all my thoughts about Ravil are rearranging, but I suddenly can’t see him as the terrible villain any more.
Chapter 10
Lucy
Friday, a text comes in from Gretchen. What’s up? Call me!
We’re both busy attorneys, so me not picking up her calls or having time to return them isn’t totally unusual. I knew she wouldn’t take offense if I didn’t call right back.
But I still don’t know how to manage a call with her.
Part of it is my own ambivalence. If I were going to give a coded message to anyone, it would be her. We lived together all three years of law school. That was some serious bonding and gives us tons of history to draw upon. Plus, she knows about Black Light and Ravil. I could probably improvise something. Given a little time, I could certainly craft something in particular to send to her.
But should I? Would I really be risking being sent to Russia and possibly separated forever from my baby when he’s born? Is it worth losing the growing trust between Ravil and I? Trust I plan to use to negotiate for an arrangement we both can live with?