Page 5 of Kane's Awakening
I didn’t know how I’d take it when they shifted into the ‘my parents are embarrassing’ stage and ignored me altogether.
The one cup of coffee I’d had before getting the kids dressed for school wasn’t nearly enough to keep me going, so I stopped at my favorite coffee place and picked up aventihouse blend through the drive thru.
Max, the barista, knew me by name and I didn’t even have to say my order most days.
“Rough morning?” he asked as I pulled up to the window.
Through small chitchat, I’d learned he was a college student and worked at Sweet Bay part time for extra money. Too young for me, though. Even if he was extremely attractive with his black hair, dark eyes, and toned arms.
“Just tired,” I answered and handed him my card. “Having twins will do that to you.”
“I wouldn’t know from experience, but I bet,” he said with a smile, giving me the coffee. “Have a great day, Ryker.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
Technically I didn’t have to be at work until noon for an appointment with a client, but I didn’t have anywhere better to be.
Being a defense attorney, I dealt with some of the most screwed up people around—and some of the dumbest—but I’d gotten good at separating feelings from work. People often asked how I was able to defend drug dealers, thieves, and even murderers, and I’d always told them that it’s up to the state to prove their guilt. Not me. My job was to give them fair counsel and leave it to the prosecution to meet the burden of proof.
Turning into the law firm’s parking lot, I parked in the back and entered through the door beside my paralegal’s office.
“Good morning, sir,” he greeted with a friendly smile as I walked in.
He was fresh out of college and only twenty-three, but he was hardworking, intelligent, and kept me in check with appointments and deadlines, which I sometimes forgot about due to crazy workloads.
Not all attorneys had paralegals, but I would’ve gone crazy without mine.
“Morning, Eric. Do you have anything for me to sign?”
“Not yet. I’m finishing up these sets of interrogatories and then I’ll send them your way to look over.” He took a drink of coffee and then held the cup in his hands, shivering a little. “It’s so cold in here.”
“Probably the draft from the door,” I answered, feeling sorry for the kid. There was hardly anything to him. The only layers he had were the sweaters and fancy scarves he wore. “I’ll get some weather strips and fix it as much as I can. In the meantime, you can take the space heater from my office and keep it in here.”
The law firm used to be an old house, but was refurnished to suit the firm’s needs. So, there were drafts and the floor creaked, but it was comfortable and welcoming. Well, everywhere except for Eric’s office apparently.
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” he said with a relieved smile.
After bringing him the heater, I went back into my office and sat down to look over files. I had a hearing on Wednesday that I needed to refresh on, plus a bench trial next week I had to prepare for.
So many cases and clients and not enough time.
My life was one chaotic mess after another, and some days I felt like I was drowning. Having people’s lives in my hands was a massive load to carry and it took its toll. One screw-up could send an innocent man away for life or could give a guilty man an unfair punishment that didn’t fit his crime.
No one would suspect it after seeing me in the court room, but I suffered from anxiety. I had to pop a Xanax on occasion just to calm down and focus, especially before a big trial. But through all the ups and downs, I loved my job and wouldn’t want to do anything else.
A sticky note was on my computer screen, and I grabbed it.
Michael Kingston called about the Walker case, it read in Eric’s neat handwriting.I told him you’d call him back ASAP.
I put the note away and took a drink of coffee, not quite ready to use my brain yet.
Michael, also known as the prosecutor no defense attorney wanted to go up against, was intense and intimidating as hell, but also a pretty nice guy. He rarely lost a case. In the few times I’d been his opposing counsel, we’d settled with a plea bargain and never actually went to trial.
The case we were working now was a tough one.
My client, Joseph Walker, had been arrested for possession of child porn, and Michael wasn’t backing down. I couldn’t blame him. With cases like that, I had to shove away all morals and feelings and look at it professionally and legally—give no prejudice of my personal opinions and just focus on the facts.
The fact I had kids made it damn near impossible, but I’d somehow fought through my revulsion so far. And the urge to knock Walker’s teeth in every time he came in for an appointment concerning his case.
