Page 6 of Passionate Defense

A look of disbelief crossed her face as she grabbed the phone out of his hand and continued reading.

“After only twenty minutes of deliberation, a seven-man, five-woman jury brought back a guilty verdict in the people vs. Morton Deevers on Monday in Dallas County.”

She swayed on her feet, and Ethan tightened his grip, steadying her. Leaning more fully against him, he felt her body tremble as she buried her face against his chest. In a voice harsh and raw with emotion, she offered a heartfelt prayer, “Thank God, thank God, thank you, dear God.”

Ethan caught her with little effort as she collapsed against him. She’d lost weight recently, at least fifteen pounds. Lifting her, he carried her to their bed and laid her back against the pillows. Sitting beside her, he stroked his hand over her cheek, brushing back a few wayward wisps of her hair. He scanned her face, pale and drawn from stress, her eyes appearing bruised with dark rings beneath them. Even the light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks seemed to have faded somehow. Something had to give.

“You can’t go on this way, Lanie.”

Still focused on the case that haunted her, she whispered, “If he’d gotten off again, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”

“You were doing your job. Every defense attorney represents a few sleazebags in their career. It comes with the territory.”

“I can deal with sleazebags. This was a depraved psychopathic killer.”

He broached a subject that had caused arguments in the past. “You could get out of criminal law and leave this to someone without a conscience. You’ll live longer, and that would make me infinitely happy.”

“I’ve given them everything I have for four years, Ethan. In that time, I’ve taken everything they’ve thrown at me. I’ve immersed myself in defending the dregs of society, men so morally bankrupt and mired in filth that there isn’t enough soap and water in the world to make me feel clean. After all that, they screw me like this.” Her face came out of his shirt and her head fell back. She looked completely gutted as she disclosed the worst of it. “The case they gave me today is another cluster. The victim this time was a child.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to demand that she walk away. He could rant and rave and put his foot down, but this was her career, and for them to have a future, she had to make that decision.

“I’m not sure what to say. In a large law firm, junior associates get the scut work until they make partner. You knew that going in.”

“What if I never make partner?”

“Then your choice is to learn to deal with it or move on. You know what my recommendation is.”

If she never went back, he had no problem with it. He had the means to support them financially. She could take her time and decide what she wanted to do. Whether she wanted to stay home and raise babies, be a lady of leisure, or hang out her own shingle, he would support her decision, whatever it was.

Pulling out of his arms, she sat down hard on the couch. Collapsing back against the cushions, she threw an arm over her eyes. “Scut work... I pray for menial and tedious. I want to be treated fairly, not get stuck with all the volatile crap that blows in.” Her hands came to her face, rubbing her temples, a sure sign of a headache. “Not so long ago, when I passed the bar, I was going to right all the injustice in the world, represent the innocent, and make a name for myself. For the good of society, not to become the heartless bitch that gets acquittals for rapists and murderers. I hate myself some days.”

He sat next to her and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Reality shock is the real bitch.” That prompted an unamused snort from her strained lips, which he ignored. “I try to prepare my students for it every day.”

“How did you deal with it when you started out?”

“I didn’t internalize everything. To keep it from building up inside me and from exploding, I ran, played basketball, swam laps. If I can’t convince you to change specialties, you need to find a way to discharge this negative energy before it tears you up inside.”

She glanced at him sharply then brought her knee up and turned to face him straight on. “Like what? I’ve tried yoga, like you suggested, and meditation, guided imagery, progressive relaxation, and deep breathing. Jogging is out because my boobs are too big and it hurts my knees, not to mention giving me shin splints. I suggested recreational marijuana, which is legal now, but you vetoed that.”

“My suggestions were healthy.”

“And ineffective. Are you sure you can’t look the other way while I blaze up a fatty?”

“Absolutely not,” he grumbled, glaring at her. He’d seen too many students ruin their careers, not to mention their lives, by turning to drugs to cope with stress. He refused to allow his wife to join their ranks.

With another indelicate snort and an eye roll, she retorted, “I didn’t think so. For a college professor, you sure are uptight. What’s next, Doc, green tea and aromatherapy?”

Turning toward her, he laid his arm along the back of the couch and leaned in. “Neither the sarcasm nor the insolence is appreciated, my darling wife. I do have another idea, if you’re willing to listen. It’s lawful, won’t increase your risk for lung cancer, and may kill two birds with one stone.”

She studied him for a moment, clearly intrigued. A moment later, her face paled even more, and a look of regret crossed her lovely features. “I’m sorry, Ethan. Like reality shock, I can be a real bitch sometimes, too.”

As he looked on, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears and her hand rose to her throat, fingers rubbing while she swallowed convulsively, as if it had gone dry. She did this whenever she fought to lock down her emotions. So self-controlled and constrained, his Lanie. He wished she would just cry already.

When she continued, her voice trembled. “I’m angry, beyond frustrated with work, and so wired I can’t calm down, but I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’ll listen to your idea, honey. I promise. Because at this point, I’ll try anything.”

His hand curled around the back of her neck. “It’s rather unconventional, so hear me out.”

She nodded, a world of trust gleaming in her eyes. Damn, she was beautiful. The shiny fabric of her pale-pink wrap blouse highlighted the blush on her fair skin. The V neckline gaped in her casual position revealing the upper curves of her breasts and edges of her lacey bra. They were perfect, fitting his palm just right, neither too big nor too small. The fitted style and tie at the waist enhanced her feminine hourglass shape. His fingers itched to untie the bow and explore the silken skin underneath. She was a sweet, cuddly kitten and a sexy siren rolled into one. Ice Queen, what a load of crap. She kindled quickly and burned hot for him every time, and she as easily made him burn with need.

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