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Charged (Saints of Denver #2) Page 24
Author: Jay Crownover

“While he was gone, some guys showed up looking for him. They, uh …” My voice drifted off again and I had to close my eyes and brace myself to get through the rest. “They broke into the place we were staying and roughed me up.” It had almost been so much worse, but thank goodness Jared’s landlady was a nosy old bat that had heard the ruckus and showed up in the nick of time. “When Jared came back to town and found me all messed up, he told me he was going to make it right, that he had a safe place we could go. He hustled me into the car, told me he had to make one quick stop, and the next thing I knew we were at the bar.”

I felt a sharp pressure in my chest and lifted my hand to hold on to the spot where my heart was kicking against the inside of me like a horse. “I should have known better. He was high—he was always high—and he was angry.” I moved my fingers from my chest to the spot on my forehead where the knot had lived for weeks. “I told him to stop it. I told him I was going to call the police. That was when he grabbed the back of my head and shoved me into the dashboard. I was already messed up from the thugs that were looking for him and he nailed me right between the eyes. I think I blacked out a little bit.”

I gulped. “I wanted to call the police.” I laughed a dry broken sound. “I really wanted to call my dad.” I looked over my shoulder at the man that was my own personal rock to lean on and wanted to wither away at the expression on his hard face. I was breaking his heart again, and again. “I didn’t do anything though. I sat there with my ears ringing, wondering how in the hell I had ended up in such a terrible spot. I didn’t know he had a gun. I never saw it and didn’t know until we got to the bar what his plans were. I should have done something, anything, but I didn’t, including help him plan the robbery.”

It was eerily silent after I said my piece; the only sound I could hear was the rhythmic in and out of Quaid’s breathing. He gave no indication if I had been convincing or not. I hoped so, since it was the ugly, unvarnished truth of exactly how broken and imperfect I was.

The judge sighed, an audible sound that echoed throughout the nearly empty courtroom.

“I think we both know, Mr. Townsend, that if the defense puts Ms. Walker on the stand after he coaches her against a junkie that is a proven drug user and with the evidence of the physical abuse, your case is in the toilet.”

“Your Honor …” The other attorney huffed out an irritated objection but the judge held up his hand.

“Stop, Counselor. I’m not in the habit of wasting the court’s time and I’m not in the habit of putting weak cases in front of a jury. I agree with Mr. Jackson that the video evidence is damning and so is the history of your primary witness. Ms. Walker has a history of infractions but none of them prove her to be a menace, just a young lady that needs to grow up and make better choices.” His gaze drilled into me. “Do you consider yourself lucky, young lady?”

I blinked rapidly and shook my head in the negative. “No, Your Honor, not typically.”

“Well, adjust your attitude and take this as your wake-up call. You are extremely lucky that Mr. Dalton didn’t hurt anyone, yourself included, and if he dragged you into his drug activities, which it sounds like he did, you are very fortunate to be here in this courtroom at all.” I nodded woodenly. “I’m dismissing the State’s case against you, but I’m doing so with the warning that you are expected to make yourself available to both the police and the district’s attorney office as they move forward with the case against Mr. Dalton. If I get any kind of hint that you are not being accommodating and cooperative, I will gladly rule on any obstruction of justice charges that are brought up against you. Am I making myself clear?”

I nodded again. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“If I were you, I would take a long hard look at the choices that resulted in you ending up in the car with Mr. Dalton and a loaded gun that night, Ms. Walker. Next time, luck may not be on your side.”

I blew out a long, shallow breath and told myself I couldn’t pass out.

“The charges against Avett Walker are dismissed. Court adjourned.” The gavel hit the block on the desk and we all got to our feet as the judge swept out of the room, his robes billowing behind him.

“Dismissed.” I whispered the word like it was a prayer and melted into the hard embrace that wrapped around me. My face didn’t hit soft cotton and a barrel chest like the last time I won a court battle. No, this time my cheek hit a silk tie and a chest that was rock hard and felt like it was carved of stone. I instinctively wrapped my arm around Quaid’s lean waist and inhaled his tangy, expensive scent. I would never tell my dad, but it was a better hug, mostly because it made me tingle all over. It made me feel safe and protected in an entirely different way, a way that was heavy and intoxicating to my already stripped and exposed senses.

“And that’s how it’s done.” He muttered the words into the top of my head and let me go like I was on fire, which I was, on the inside.

My dad cleared his throat and I walked over to hug it out with him as well. His embrace was familiar, warm, and I would give it all up in the blink of an eye to run towards the tingle I got from Quaid’s arms around me again. It looked like my addiction to chasing after my ruin wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

CHAPTER 6

Quaid

I almost kissed her. It was a close call when her face hit my chest and her arms wrapped around me. I wanted to kiss her but I refrained, which was a struggle, so I hugged her back instead.

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Jay Crownover's Novels
» Charged (Saints of Denver #2)
» Built (Saints of Denver #1)
» Leveled (Saints of Denver #0.5)
» Honor (The Breaking Point #1)
» Better When He's Brave (Welcome to the Point #3)
» Better when He's Bold (Welcome to the Point #2)
» Rule (Marked Men #1)
» Asa (Marked Men #6)
» Jet (Marked Men #2)