In Your Corner
Page 57
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“I can’t imagine what that was like.”
“Fucked up. That’s what it was like.” He rubs his hand up and down my back, warm and soothing.
“I finally decided I had to get out. Moved here because it was warm and I had a friend from high school who offered me a job on his construction crew. He fought at Redemption and invited me along. One night was all it took. Torment helped me get my life back together, showed me how to use fighting to deal with the anger I had inside, and he asked me to teach some classes. I would never have discovered how much I enjoy teaching if not for him. Redemption saved me in more ways than one.”
“Me too,” I whisper, remembering the shadows of the Redemption fighters descending on the alley outside Hellhole.
Jake chuckles. “Everything was going so well. I thought I had sorted myself out. But when you broke it off…that cut me bad. And then when I came to sort it out and caught you with Drake, that was the end for me. It was like I had failed again. I was still who my parents always thought I was. A f**kup. But this time I couldn’t hurt myself with booze or drugs or stupid, petty crime. I had my fight career to think of and my teaching. So I got pierced. Painful but cathartic.”
My body stiffens and guilt winds its way up my spine. I try to pull away, but Jake tightens his grip, holding me close. “When I saw you again at your firm, all cool and calm like I was any other client when I was f**king shook up inside, I thought nothing had changed. You were still totally in control of yourself, your life, everything. You’d moved on.”
“In control? I dropped my notepad and pen like a total klutz.” I snort a laugh. “I could barely breathe. I said stupid and inane things. You were the one who was all cool and calm. You intimidated me.”
“Don’t remember it that way.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “But I like to hear it.”
I shift in his arms, tilting my head up so I can look at him. “So what changed?”
His body tenses and he draws in a ragged breath. “Seeing you in that alley… Fuck. You were covered in blood, and we couldn’t wake you. I thought you were gonna die, and I wished to God I could have one more chance.”
His arms tighten around me, and I blink back my tears as I remember how desperately I wished I could have one more chance with him too.
“But it wasn’t just that,” he says softly. “In the hospital, with your parents on your case, so cold and detached, and you so desperate for their approval… I totally understood that. Same thing I struggled with all my life. You looked so defeated. Like you needed someone in your corner. Changed everything for me.” His voice cracks, breaks. “I thought maybe you did actually need me in a way I need to be needed. And maybe this time, you would let me in.”
Chapter 14
I LIKE THE SOUND OF THAT
“Ray, shoes off the table. Have some respect.”
Ray shoots me a curious glance as I storm through the office. His feet don’t move.
“And, Penny. Change the screensaver back to the corporate logo. A thirty-inch close-up of Vetch’s face is going to scare clients away.”
“Awwww.” Penny’s lips quirk into a smile but I don’t acknowledge the joke.
“Seriously, guys. This is a law office, not a social club.”
Ray snorts from behind his paper. “Who’s being social? I’m reading the news. Pen’s working. You’re the one yammering on.”
Despite the fact he can’t see me, I shoot him a searing glance. “New rules. When a client comes in, we’ll enact Operation Client protocol. This means Ray will sit up and read a magazine and pretend this is not his living room. No lounging. No swearing. No feet on the table. Penny will type. It doesn’t matter if you have anything to type; the sound of fingers hitting keys makes it sound busy. No personal conversations. No calls.”
Penny frowns. “Something the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter. Do I look like something’s the matter? It’s Monday. We have cases to run and new clients could walk in the door at any moment. How will they know we’re a law office? I don’t have a sign. I don’t have a brand. All we have is the monogrammed stationery and the firm colors. I think we should…”
Ray peers over his newspaper and raises a warning eyebrow. “We should what?”
I rethink my decision to remove his comfy Victorian couch and also my new idea to have everyone wear firm colors. I’ve never seen Ray in anything but commando clothes and commandos don’t wear navy blue. “Never mind.”
“Thought not.”
“What’s this all about?” Penny persists. “I thought you were finally chillaxing about the firm. We were having fun, going to dangerous areas of town, taking on more pro bono files. You gave Ray his couch. I thought you were leaving the big law firm behind for a brave new Amanda Westwood & Sons world.”
Wincing at her all too accurate assessment, I shake my head. “Fact is, Penny, sometimes the old things are best. There was a method behind the Farnsworth & Tillman madness. I understood it. This half Victorian, half modern firm with you two hanging out chatting all day and me never knowing where the next client is going to come from, or what the hell I’m doing, or where the hell I’m going…is not comfortable. I need stability and certainty. I need to get some control over my life.”
“She’s running scared,” Ray mumbles from behind his newspaper.
“Fucked up. That’s what it was like.” He rubs his hand up and down my back, warm and soothing.
“I finally decided I had to get out. Moved here because it was warm and I had a friend from high school who offered me a job on his construction crew. He fought at Redemption and invited me along. One night was all it took. Torment helped me get my life back together, showed me how to use fighting to deal with the anger I had inside, and he asked me to teach some classes. I would never have discovered how much I enjoy teaching if not for him. Redemption saved me in more ways than one.”
“Me too,” I whisper, remembering the shadows of the Redemption fighters descending on the alley outside Hellhole.
Jake chuckles. “Everything was going so well. I thought I had sorted myself out. But when you broke it off…that cut me bad. And then when I came to sort it out and caught you with Drake, that was the end for me. It was like I had failed again. I was still who my parents always thought I was. A f**kup. But this time I couldn’t hurt myself with booze or drugs or stupid, petty crime. I had my fight career to think of and my teaching. So I got pierced. Painful but cathartic.”
My body stiffens and guilt winds its way up my spine. I try to pull away, but Jake tightens his grip, holding me close. “When I saw you again at your firm, all cool and calm like I was any other client when I was f**king shook up inside, I thought nothing had changed. You were still totally in control of yourself, your life, everything. You’d moved on.”
“In control? I dropped my notepad and pen like a total klutz.” I snort a laugh. “I could barely breathe. I said stupid and inane things. You were the one who was all cool and calm. You intimidated me.”
“Don’t remember it that way.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “But I like to hear it.”
I shift in his arms, tilting my head up so I can look at him. “So what changed?”
His body tenses and he draws in a ragged breath. “Seeing you in that alley… Fuck. You were covered in blood, and we couldn’t wake you. I thought you were gonna die, and I wished to God I could have one more chance.”
His arms tighten around me, and I blink back my tears as I remember how desperately I wished I could have one more chance with him too.
“But it wasn’t just that,” he says softly. “In the hospital, with your parents on your case, so cold and detached, and you so desperate for their approval… I totally understood that. Same thing I struggled with all my life. You looked so defeated. Like you needed someone in your corner. Changed everything for me.” His voice cracks, breaks. “I thought maybe you did actually need me in a way I need to be needed. And maybe this time, you would let me in.”
Chapter 14
I LIKE THE SOUND OF THAT
“Ray, shoes off the table. Have some respect.”
Ray shoots me a curious glance as I storm through the office. His feet don’t move.
“And, Penny. Change the screensaver back to the corporate logo. A thirty-inch close-up of Vetch’s face is going to scare clients away.”
“Awwww.” Penny’s lips quirk into a smile but I don’t acknowledge the joke.
“Seriously, guys. This is a law office, not a social club.”
Ray snorts from behind his paper. “Who’s being social? I’m reading the news. Pen’s working. You’re the one yammering on.”
Despite the fact he can’t see me, I shoot him a searing glance. “New rules. When a client comes in, we’ll enact Operation Client protocol. This means Ray will sit up and read a magazine and pretend this is not his living room. No lounging. No swearing. No feet on the table. Penny will type. It doesn’t matter if you have anything to type; the sound of fingers hitting keys makes it sound busy. No personal conversations. No calls.”
Penny frowns. “Something the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter. Do I look like something’s the matter? It’s Monday. We have cases to run and new clients could walk in the door at any moment. How will they know we’re a law office? I don’t have a sign. I don’t have a brand. All we have is the monogrammed stationery and the firm colors. I think we should…”
Ray peers over his newspaper and raises a warning eyebrow. “We should what?”
I rethink my decision to remove his comfy Victorian couch and also my new idea to have everyone wear firm colors. I’ve never seen Ray in anything but commando clothes and commandos don’t wear navy blue. “Never mind.”
“Thought not.”
“What’s this all about?” Penny persists. “I thought you were finally chillaxing about the firm. We were having fun, going to dangerous areas of town, taking on more pro bono files. You gave Ray his couch. I thought you were leaving the big law firm behind for a brave new Amanda Westwood & Sons world.”
Wincing at her all too accurate assessment, I shake my head. “Fact is, Penny, sometimes the old things are best. There was a method behind the Farnsworth & Tillman madness. I understood it. This half Victorian, half modern firm with you two hanging out chatting all day and me never knowing where the next client is going to come from, or what the hell I’m doing, or where the hell I’m going…is not comfortable. I need stability and certainty. I need to get some control over my life.”
“She’s running scared,” Ray mumbles from behind his newspaper.
