Mended (13 page)

I claw, scream, and bite down as an orgasm rips through me. I can’t see and can barely hear as I come back to myself. Cole carries my limp body to the bed, pulling the covers up.

“I need a shower.” He kisses me roughly and disappears into the hallway.

His lazy smile remains imprinted on my brain as I drift off to a deep sleep.

***

Cole

Cole wraps the towel around his mid-section and peeks in on Savannah, who’s passed out in the middle of the bed, her belly peeking out of the side of the blanket.

Her fridge is nearly empty, and her cabinets are pretty bare. What the hell has she been living on? Then he finds her stash. He grabs a spoon, and leaning against the counter, he scoops a huge ball of peanut butter into his mouth as his phone goes off in his coat pocket. He lunges for it, pressing the button before it can wake Savannah.

Frank: You made it there all right?

Cole: Yes, thanks for the heads up, Frank. I’ll see you in Washington.

He thinks for a moment, then types.

Cole: What has she been eating these past two weeks?

Not even a moment later, he feels a vibration.

Jake: You don’t even wanna know.

Cole: Try me.

Jake: You asked. Mustard-ketchup combo, mustard and potato chips, ketchup and potato chips. Oh! And her favorite right now is mustard, chips, and pickles all combined together. Your baby likes some f’d up foods, dude. I’m actually gagging right now.

Cole: Thanks for the visual. Appreciate it.

He changes quickly and heads outside.

***

“Savi,” Cole whispers in her ear, but she doesn’t move. “Baby, you need to get up.” He kisses her cheek. “I have something you might like,” he whispers, but still nothing. “I went to the market and got pickles and mustard.” One of her eyes opens, and he grins. “I got all kinds of nasty food for you and Fritter.”

“So we’re back to Fritter?”

“Yes, it sounds cuter.” She gives him an adorable smile. “Now, get up. There’s a pile of pickles with your name on it.”

“Really? Are you playing me?” She raises an eyebrow.

“No, I promise.”

“How?”

“Jake.” He squeezes her tight little bottom, enjoying the resulting moan.

“God, love a bestie who never sleeps.” She stretches and rolls over, letting the sheet fall behind her. Her hand runs along her bare leg and up her side while she stares at him through those long lashes.

He tosses her a shirt. “As much as I want to roll around with you in this bed all day, you have a flight to catch in,” he looks at her clock, “two hours.”

Her face drops and she pulls the covers over her body again, not hiding from him, but from the idea of what’s to come. He climbs in next to her, tucking her into his side.

“I know you’re scared, but I’ll be there with you every step of the way.” She nods then slides off the bed, grabbing her robe and heading for the shower. She stops at the last minute, her hand holding onto the doorframe for a beat, before she turns to look over her shoulder.

“I love you, Cole.” She leaves before he can say anything.

***

On the drive to the airport and through the flight, Savannah is very quiet. Her fingers flip the pages to her book,
The Beach House
by James Patterson, but she’s yet to open it. Cole understands her need for quiet and just keeps a firm grip on her thigh to comfort her. When they touch down in Washington, Frank is there to greet them at the gate, and he drives them directly to the base.

Frank’s glance flickers to Savi’s in the rear view mirror. “We’re going to be briefing you on the case so you’re up to speed on everything.” He clears his throat when she doesn’t respond, continuing to watch the countryside fly by. Cole reaches for her hand, but she doesn’t turn. She tilts her head and traces a fallen raindrop on the glass. “So,” Frank moves on, “after that, we’ll have dinner and—”

“I want to speak to Lynn,” she says softly, cutting him off. Cole feels the hairs on his neck raise. “Alone.”

Frank’s eyes jump to his. “Savannah, that’s not something I can—”

“If you want me to testify,” she turns for the first time to look directly at Frank, “you’ll make it happen.”

“Savannah…” Cole lowers his voice.

“Cole,” she counters, and he realizes she’s in a feisty mood right now. He reluctantly bites his tongue, pressing his back into the cool leather seat. She is closing herself off from them, he knows. She’s most likely experiencing all the anger and hurt she has after so many years of loving this woman like a sister. He feels sick putting himself in her shoes. If Mark ever betrayed him like that, he’d be broken by it too. His hand finds its way to their baby, surprising hers, which is already there. He covers her hand, and she uses the other to wipe a tear. His body twitches to comfort her, but he knows she’s on the brink of losing it.

Chapter Ten

Savannah

I feel like stone by the time I sit in an old chair with metal armrests across the table from four tired-looking lawyers. An older style clock ticks directly above the door, and my heart times its beat to its rhythm. Rain pelts at murky windows that look like they haven’t been replaced since the early sixties. My nose tries to push the musty smell away, but it doesn’t work, and it makes my stomach roll even more. My attention is pulled to one of the male lawyers. My gaze drops to a coffee stain on his tie, and I silently describe his appearance to try to help ground myself. He looks just like the man with the red stapler in the Office Space movie. I can tell he’s hungry, as he keeps eyeing his partner’s Snickers bar.

“Miss Miller,” Morgan, the lead lawyer, says, pulling my attention to the present. She fusses with the paperwork in front of her. I remember this woman from the last time I was here. She’s a perfectionist, and I want to lean over and mess up her meticulously lined up files and her pen sitting parallel. “I need you to understand that we can’t have a repeat of what happened the last time you were in the court.” She peers disapprovingly over the ridge of her glasses. My tongue presses to the roof of my mouth, trying like hell not to lash out at her. I hear Cole shift his body. I’m so tuned in to him, I know he wants to say something, but he won’t…yet. “I understand it was hard for you, but—”

“Don’t,” I hiss in a small voice, but it’s enough to shut her up for a moment.

“Miss Miller, if you want this testimony to count, you need to keep yourself calm. The judge will not tolerate an outburst. All it shows to the jury is that you’re a loose cannon.”’

“Is that why he got a double life sentence with no chance of parole?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. “Seems to me my outburst
and
the evidence proved to the jury that Denton is a monster, and he got what he deserved, so let’s try this again, Miss Morgan.” Her thumb starts clicking the top of her expensive pen. “I want five minutes alone with Lynn, before I testify against her tomorrow.”

“That’s not possible,” she states.

I stand and grab my bag. Cole jumps to his feet. I expect him to try and stop me, but he doesn’t.

“Wait,” Morgan calls out, rubbing her head, “just sit for a moment.”

I see Cole’s mouth turn up, but when he turns around he’s straight-faced again. God, he’s good.

“It will take some time.” One of the other lawyers starts to argue, but she raises her bitchy hand, and he backs off.

“Morgan,” the lawyer closest to Cole says, “they’ll never go for it.”

“Humphrey, when I want your input, I’ll ask for it,” Morgan snaps, rubbing her head harder. Humphrey flushes up his neck.
Poor guy.

“Look,” she closes her eyes, “give me an hour, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Fine.” I start to turn, but stop and lean back over the table, snatching the Snickers bar and placing it in front of her. “Just saying.”

I see Humphrey cover his mouth, clearly getting my joke about the commercial.
‘You’re not yourself when you’re hungry.’
Cole reaches for my arm and nearly pulls me out of the room. Once the door is closed, he bursts out laughing.

“I can’t believe you did that,” he croaks out. “Oh god, I wish Mark was here. He would have loved that.” I smile, wishing he was too. His comic relief would be welcome right now. “Come on, let’s get something to eat.”

Two hours later, Humphrey is sent to find us in the cafeteria. He tells me after pulling in many favors, the judge still will not allow it, as Lynn has been violent since she’s been in jail. I’m disappointed, but I get over it. I’ll see her tomorrow, and I’ll get to say my piece then, with or without the judge’s help.

We head back up to that horrible room and spend the next several hours getting briefed. I must say Morgan is a little nicer this time around. Guess the Snickers bar worked.

The briefing lasts till evening, and we go down to the restaurant.

I stay lost in my thoughts throughout dinner. The guys try to engage me, but I am off in childhood memories with Lynn.

“Merry Christmas, Lynnie.”I hold out a little white box and grin.

She snatches it out of my hand, ripping the bow in two. “Aww.” She pulls out a chain with a half of a jagged heart dangling from the center. Lynn loves hearts.

“See?” I pull the other half out from under my shirt. “Not just friends—”

“But sisters too,” she finishes, admiring the necklace in the mirror. “Love you, Savi.”

“Love you too, Lynnie.”

I keep trying to pinpoint the spot when she turned on me. It’s a deep ache that burns in my stomach when I think about her. How can someone imprint so strongly on your life one moment, and the next hire someone to kill you? I feel like I’m in a movie. Did our time together mean nothing to her? Surely there’s got to be a time when she loved me like the sister I felt she was, the way I did her.

I can’t eat, and I don’t touch my water. I’m so lost I hardly feel Cole help me out of my chair and walk us upstairs to our hotel room. He lets me know he and Frank have some more to discuss, so he’ll be in the other room, and suggests I take a bath.

“Then get some sleep, baby.” He leans, in kissing my lips and giving my belly a rub. I nod, sitting on the couch staring at a black screen that stares back at me.

***

“
Do you solemnly affirm that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth
?” The clerk stares with piercing gray eyes, and a chill runs up my spine.

“I do,” I say weakly, feeling my voice run like hell in the opposite direction. I felt more confident when I testified against Denton, but Lynn…I sit a little straighter and glance at the jury. Nine men, three women, one wearing a horrendous cat sweater she must have made herself, because no one in their right mind would be try to market it.

Cole catches my eye and gives me a little wink, letting me know he’s only fifteen steps away. I nod, swallow hard, and try to keep myself together. Cole’s words repeat over and over in my head. “Just one more day, baby, then we can go home and put all this behind us.” A door opens and a light roar of whispers erupts. I keep my eyes locked on Cole’s, suddenly terrified to look over and face my reality. He mouths, “I love you.” I barely nod and tune in to the judge, who is handing the floor over to Lynn’s lawyer.

I’m shaking. I’m not ready. I’m so scared.

I force my eyes over to face my once best friend, my sister, and now my enemy who might get life…if she’s lucky.

Lynn’s face is paler than normal, and she’s dressed to play the part of the young, innocent woman. She’s wearing a cream colored skirt that hits right above the knee, white blouse, and a baby pink sweater, something Lynn would
never
wear. Hell, even her hair is down and pinned straight, and she hates her hair that way. I don’t fall for it, of course. I know her, and I see it’s still her in there. I do recognize her body language, right down to how she shifts in that cotton blouse. She hates cotton; Lynn always wears silk. Seeing her obvious attempt to hide her real self lights a small spark deep inside me. Though I do see her wrist is in a brace, and there’s some dark color around an eye. I guess she has been fighting.

Her head lifts up and her eyes lock onto mine. A series of emotions run through me, but suddenly the strongest is pity. Not the kind of pity where I wish she weren’t sitting there waiting for her fate to be determined, but the kind where I know she’ll never have a life to call her own.
Karma.

I think she misreads my look and gives me a tiny smile and mouths, “Hi, honey.”

I sink my teeth into my cheek to the point of pain, but I let go when the lawyer clears his throat.

“Shall I repeat my question?”

I nod and give him my attention. “How long have you and Lynn been friends?”

“Since…” I cough, begging my voice to return. “Since we were tiny.”

“Would you say she’s like a sister?” My lawyer interrupts, but the judge waves him off.

“Yes.”

“You two did everything together?”

“Yes.”

“Family trips?”

“Yes.” I shrug.

“Family dinners—”

His voice trails off into nothing when my mind recalls one particular family dinner. I’m sucked into a flashback and the courtroom fades…

…
to my father’s penthouse, where I’m showing up early because traffic was light, as so many people are out of the city for Thanksgiving. I open the door to see the place looks empty, but the smell of turkey makes my stomach jump to attention. Chucking my purse down next to another one, at the time I don’t notice, but now I see it’s hers. The cook is busy in the kitchen, so I leave him be.

“Dad?” I call out, removing my shoes from my aching feet. “You here yet?”

I scramble up the twisty stairs to the second floor, and come face to face with my flushed father. “Hey, Dad.” I grin, but it fades when I see the panicked look on his face. “Everything all right?”

He pulls my arm and pushes me in front of him, hurrying me down the stairs toward the front door. “Can we re-schedule, dear? Something has come up. I'm sorry, but it can't be helped.”

“What?” I pull my arm free, only to have him snatch it up again. “But it’s Thanksgiving. What about dinner?”

“Savannah, you’re twenty-two years old. Don't you think it’s about time you find someone else to spend it with?”

My face snaps back. “Wow! You know, some fathers would kill to have their daughter spend special occasions with them.”

He opens the door and shoves my purse in my hands. “I’ll call you later.” And with that, the door is slammed in my face.

“What the hell was that?” I curse, pulling out my phone as I hurry to the elevator. Once I’m outside, I call Lynn, planning to warn her not to head to Dad’s, since he’s being an ass again. It goes straight to voice mail. I try again, knowing she’ll pick up if I call right after.

“Hello?” Lynn’s muffled voice comes over the line.

“Hey, Lynn. Shit, Dad’s in another damn mood, so I’d suggest—” “Shhh, it’s Savi,” I hear her whisper to someone.

I grin. “Lynn, you’re not alone? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at home. I-I was just about to leave, so I’m glad you called.” I plug one ear as a firetruck goes by.

“Shit, Savi, ahh…my landlady is here again, so you know what that means.”

“Yeah, have fun with that.”

The vision fades away, and I’m back in the courtroom. The lawyer is prattling on about something, but I ignore him. I look back over at Lynn. The room feels as if the air is slowly being sucked out through a straw, causing my lungs to shrivel up and turn to dust. I realize what an idiot I was not noticing her purse, and now realizing I could hear that firetruck through her phone in the distance.

“You bitch,” I snarl at her. She tilts her head, trying to understand where I’m coming from.

“What was that, Miss Miller?” her lawyer asks, raising a thick eyebrow at me.

“Yes, Lynn attended almost all family events, even some she and my father made up together.” I watch her face fall and the color drain from it.

“How close would you say she was with your father?”

I shake my head while staring at her. She looks panicky, and I realize this is something that hasn’t come out yet. “Is sleeping with my father at twenty-two close enough?” Her face lowers forward into her hands, drawing the jurors’ attention to her. The courtroom suddenly grows loud, and the judge bangs his gavel repeatedly. Once the room settles, the lawyer starts in on me again but never touches on that topic.

***

I’ve been in the witness seat now for an hour and half, and I’m growing tired. I know I’m stressed, because I think I’m getting small Braxton Hicks contractions. Dr. Brown warned me this could happen, so I’m not too concerned. Our lawyer has asked for a recess, seeing my discomfort, but I refused. I just want this to be finished. When I walk out those doors, I’m not coming back in.

Cole is watching me like a hawk. I can see he’s worried; he keeps rubbing his face and twitching. I try to nod and let him know I’m fine, but really I’m growing more and more finished with rehashing my life to complete strangers who are judging my every word.

“Miss Miller,” the lawyer mutters, heading back to his table and making a dramatic effect as he thinks, “do you love your father?” I start to answer, but he cuts me off.

“Remember, you are under oath.”

I think about my words to be sure they’re the right ones. “Yes, I love my father, but when he got into politics…”

“So now you don’t?” he snaps quickly

“Would you?” I snap back, hurt.

“I’m not on the witness stand.” I swear he smirks momentarily.