“Are you saying you think I didn’t do it?”
“I’m saying there’s a good possibility you didn’t. And I don’t believe in putting innocent men in prison.”
“Me, neither.” I shoved a bite of cookie in my mouth.
“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be.” He pulled a card from his shirt pocket. “Take this. In case you need it.”
I handed him one of my own. “If you ever find yourself in serious trouble, I’ll think about taking the case. But otherwise, I’m out of that game.”
“What about Abraham Addis?”
“Last ditch effort to prove I haven’t wasted my career.”
He stuck the card in his wallet. “Good luck with that.”
I stood and dumped my empty container in the trashcan beside me. “I’m going to need a miracle.”
“Hope you find it.”
“Are you listening to me?”
I turned my phone over on my thigh. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Kane Zegas set his glasses on his desk. “The word is the girl won’t take the stand.”
“How do you know that?”
“If you’d get off that goddamn phone, you’d know.” He glared. “Nothing should be more important to you than this case right now.”
Marlow should have been finished with the social worker by now. Andrew wouldn’t answer my texts. Zegas had no idea what my priorities were.
“There is no case.” I shot up and moved toward the windows of his office. “My parents are the ones who paid hers not to go to the police. Not to mention, all that’s there is this story in the newspaper. I haven’t been charged, so of course she won’t take the stand. There’s no trial.”
“If there is one, she won’t do it.”
“That’s a bonus,” I said, unable to hide my bitterness.
“We’ll use it to our advantage.”
I pivoted to face my lawyer. “Do you think I did it?”
“I don’t give a shit if you did or not.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Does my answer matter? You need me.” He settled back in his seat. “And when I get you out of this, I want the part of my fee off the record in cash.”
I was desperate for someone to believe in me. Even my lawyer would be a start.
My phone chimed.
They took Blake.
Chapter Sixty
Marlow
They took my baby.
They took my baby.
I rocked back and forth in the foyer, rivers flowing down my cheeks. Andrew’s angry voice floated in from the living room, but all I could focus on was the confusion on Blake’s face as that woman took him away.
Was he scared? Hungry? Did he have his favorite elephant? Panic ripped through me. He wouldn’t sleep well without it.
I crawled up the stairs to his room. The stuffed animal was in his crib. I held it tight as an agonizing cry escaped me.
Strong arms caught me as I collapsed, gently easing me to the floor.
“I’m sorry, Wicked. So sorry.”
I shook with sobs as Patrick held me. “He’s gone.”
“We’ll get him back. I promise.” He kissed my hair.
“I didn’t do what she said I did,” I choked out.
“I know.”
“I’m a good mother.” I gripped his hands.
“The best.”
“I don’t want him to be scared.”
“If he is, he won’t be for long.” There was a slight tremor in his voice that splintered me.
“I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it.” The words barely escaped, a fractured plea.
“We’ll prove you didn’t.”
His hold was the only thing keeping me together. Lost, I shrank into him.
“Where is he?” I whispered.
His cheek pressed to mine, the comfort slightly warming my chilled bones. All the crap between us evaporated. No ugly words. Nothing that couldn’t be taken back. Just Patrick here when I needed him most.
“I should’ve been here.” He spoke so low I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. “I thought it would be worse for you if I was.”
Agony wove through every syllable. He stroked the stuffed animal as I gripped it.
“Can’t get him back for three days.”
I jerked my gaze to Andrew’s blurry form in the doorway.
“Three days?” Patrick’s fingers dug into me.
“There’s a waiting period. Then we’ll have to go before a judge.”
“But the evidence is bullshit,” I cried.
“Doesn’t matter.” He squatted down in front of me, wiped a tear from my face. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” I touched his arm, tried to summon up an ounce of strength, but fell short.
“Mrs. Quinn’s word will go a long way. Won’t hurt that you’re the widow of a soldier who died in combat. We’ll prove you’re a damn good mother.”
My brother meant well, but the words struck a new chord of grief within me.
Jack. He’d have never let this happen. But he wasn’t here. Anger and sadness tore me in two. He left me. Yet he deserved so much more than what he got.
“I’ve never been apart from him for that long.”
“Can’t we file an injunction?” Patrick rubbed my belly with one hand.
“It’s no good if we don’t have definitive proof to disprove the complaint.” Andrew and Patrick traded a look.
“I didn’t hit my child.” Desperation laced my words. Social services had believed that woman who used to be my mother over me when she was the one who’d abandoned us all those years ago. She was unfit. Not me.
“I know,” Andrew said gently. “We’ll get him back. If you need me, call. You’re more than welcome to stay with us.”
“I need to be here.”
“I’m gonna go see what other angles I can work.” He squeezed my hand.
“I want everything you’ve got.” Patrick’s tone was hard, and Andrew nodded.
We didn’t move. Not as the shadows cast on the walls were replaced by the darkness. Not even when faint strips of light from the rising sun streaked the floor.
Not a word had been spoken. What more was there to say? Blake was gone. I wasn’t sure I’d get him back. And if I didn’t, what kind of mother would I be to the baby growing inside of me?
I
