Page 72 of Before We Fell

“Yes. I swear you don’t want to take this weekend away from me. I’ve been wanting it…”

“I’ve been wanting you,” he groaned and dipped his head. He took my mouth in a breath-stealing kiss that made me quake down to my curled toes and yanked back. “All right. Let’s go. But if you want to talk about this more, you know you can come to me, right?”

“I know, but honestly, the less I talk or think of my family, the happier I am, and this weekend, I want to be happy.”

“Oh,” he drawled. “I’ll make you happy. I’ll bring you so much pleasure this weekend you’ll be drunk on it.”

Yes. Please.I patted his chest and grinned. “Good. Then let’s go.”

Twenty-Two

Noah

I firmly believedin the right to a man’s defense. I firmly believed when that man, or woman, walked into my office, it was my job, my calling to procure the absolutely best defense imaginable. I did my job, and I didn’t only do it well for some sense of pride in my hard work. I didn’t just go to work at my law firm every morning with some sick need to line my pockets and investment accounts with as much dough as possible.

I did it because I adamantly believed not only in my country’s Constitution but particularly the Sixth Amendment. All men should be treated equal and by creating the strongest defense against whatever crime they were accused of, I was doing my part in serving not only the citizens of my country, but my country as a whole.

Three times in my life I was ashamed of my career choice and the passion for my beliefs.

The first time I received an acquittal verdict for a dipshit college kid who’d been accused of raping his girlfriend. I’d taken my congratulations, and gone back to the office, unable to hide the disgust in myself when Tom walked into my office with a bottle of Macallan and two glasses in his hand. He’d gotten me so damn drunk he drove me home, walked me to my apartment and waited until he knew I’d survive the night before leaving. Tom taught me many lessons that day, one of which was a hands-on learning experience in why so many lawyers spent most of their lives staring into the bottom of a bottle.

Some days it was the only way we could live with ourselves.

That night had been a huge lesson. Being firmly entrenched in my beliefs, with the intellect to use every tool in my arsenal at my disposal, meant sometimes…assholes who deserved years, or the rest of their lives behind bars, would walk free thanks to yours truly.

The second time that disgust grew into something so thick and muddy I could barely walk through it? The day I heard the specifics of Amanda and Jake’s murder.

That asshole, if ever found, could saunter into a firm like my old one, and somebody…possibly someone as good as me…would be responsible for trying to get that man who shot my sister and brother-in-law at point-blank range, stole their money, and damaged an innocent child forever…to go free.

And third.

That very moment, with Lauren in my truck. My career was built on the backs of drug addicts, petty thieves, and grand larceny charges—men exactly like she described as her brother. The list went on and it’d only slowly begun to sink into my pores a few months ago what vile work I was infamous for in circles in St. Louis.

Fortunately, there was a calming layer that covered the slick feeling of sludge in my gut, confirming that earlier today, I’d made the right decision.

We’d only been on the road twenty minutes, but as soon as we started the drive, I’d taken Lauren’s hand, placed it on my thigh and woven our fingers together, holding our clasped hands against me as I drove. We were now barreling down I-35, still forty minutes outside Kansas City and we’d passed the mundane conversation long ago.

Lauren had turned to the window, set her head back against the rest, and gone radio silent.

I gave her that time, knowing she was still dealing with shit from her ultimate, shitty family, one I’d seen far too many like in my days in the courtroom.

But now with nothing else to do but the phone call and my past behind us, I was ready to move forward.

Squeezing her hand in my hand, I waited until I had her attention and flicked my gaze to her real quick before going back to the road. “I made a decision today.”

“About what?”

Life. My future. What I wanted for Riley. What I wanted for me. “Now that the house is almost done, I needed to figure out what I’m going to do. I had fun doing that, and I thought about buying up a few more and flipping them.”

She smiled at me, gently, quiet for a moment before she nodded. “You’d be good at that.”

Maybe. I had the money to dick around for awhile and maybe I still could. “Yeah, but I kind of like where I’m living now. Good neighborhood.” I gave her hand another squeeze. “Hot little neighbor next door Riley adores.”

She laughed, her smile widening. “So you’re not going to do it.”

“I might. Maybe for fun every once in awhile if the right house comes along, but no. I’ve decided I need something more permanent for Riley’s sake most of all.”

“That’d be good for her.”

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