Page 16 of Strength in Submission
"She's under the club's protection," I say firmly, meeting Viper's gaze head-on. "And she's mine. Understand?"
Viper holds my stare for a beat too long before nodding. "Crystal clear, brother."
"Good." I grab my keys from the hook by the door. "I'll be back after court. Keep your phones on."
It doesn't take me long as I rush over to the courthouse. I want to get things buttoned up and finished as quickly as I can today. The idea of Violet in the clubhouse with Viper bothers me, but at least Cruel is there to watch over her.
None of us are idiots. We all know Viper throws Tiffany around, and were working on how to vote him out, but we have to turn to the rest of the brothers who could flip their vote. So, Viper needs to fuck up, and he needs to do it in a very bad way.
The courtroom is packed, but I barely notice the crowd as I make my closing arguments. I'm defending a nineteen-year-old kid charged with armed robbery, facing a minimum of fifteen years if convicted. The DA's case hinges on a single eyewitness identification, and I've spent the last hour poking holes in it.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," I conclude, "the prosecution has failed to meet their burden of proof beyond a reasonable doubt. They've presented no physical evidence connecting my client to this crime, no fingerprints, no DNA, no stolen goods recovered from his possession. All they have is a witness who claims to have seen my client for less than thirty seconds, at night, from a distance of over fifty feet. That's not enough to send a young man to prison for fifteen years. That'snot enough to destroy a life. I ask you to return the only verdict supported by the evidence: not guilty."
I return to my seat beside my client, who whispers a nervous "Thank you" as I sit down. The judge instructs the jury, and they file out to deliberate. My phone vibrates in my pocket as soon as we're dismissed.
Cruel:
She's awake. Asking about you.
I step into the hallway to call him.
"How is she?" I ask as soon as he picks up.
"Good." I can hear the smile in Cruel's voice. "She ate breakfast, took some more painkillers for her face. She's been asking about club stuff."
"What kind of club stuff?"
"How we operate, who does what. Basic shit. She's curious, not scared."
That's a relief. I was worried she might wake up and regret everything, be freaked out by where she is and what happened between us.
"I should be done here soon," I tell him. "Keep her occupied till I get back."
"Will do. Oh, and brother?"
"Yeah?"
"I like her. She's got fire."
I find myself smiling. "Yeah, she does."
After hanging up, I lean against the wall, trying to sort through the emotions coursing through me. Last night with Violet felt right in a way nothing has in a long time. The way she submitted to me, so natural, so perfect... it's like she was what I've been waiting for.
But bringing her into my world comes with a lot of risks. The club isn't just a bunch of guys who ride motorcycles—we're into shit that could put her in danger. Hell, all of our loved ones indanger. And I've got enemies, both from my legal work and club business.
Then there's the matter of her ex. Derek. Even thinking his name makes my jaw clench. He put his hands on what's mine, marked her beautiful face with his filth. I can't fucking stand that, and he wont get away with it.
My phone rings again—it's my secretary.
"Jury's back," she tells me. "That was fast."
"On my way," I say, straightening my tie as I head back to the courtroom.
By the time I pull into the clubhouse parking lot, it's almost three. The case took longer than expected—the jury came back with questions, the judge took his sweet time answering them, and then when they finally delivered the verdict—not guilty, thankfully—I had to deal with the kid's ecstatic family and a pissed-off DA.
I'm antsy to get back to Violet, to see for myself that she's okay. To continue what we started last night.
The main room of the cluh is empty except for Amsterdam behind the bar, cleaning glasses.
