Hold Me (Love The Way #2) - W. Winters Page 0,42

hand. It wouldn’t be her home, but our home, somewhere else. It would be the two of us looking out at the world together. But then again … would she ever want to move?

Peeking down at her, I know she was someone else’s first. Someone she misses. Someone she hasn’t let go of. I know it all too well.

There’s also the logistics and legal blocks that would stand in our way. If Cade allows me to return to the company, there’s no chance in hell I can be married to a former client. A current client. Trust is our main currency at The Firm. If potential applicants can’t count on us to protect their lives and well-being, then we don’t have a job. My brother’s business will be destroyed. All kinds of suspicions would follow all of them everywhere.

The prosecution has brought out more evidence. Pictures, this time. Of the street where it happened, a yellow arrow pointing to where Quincy’s body was found. Another photo. Another yellow arrow. This is where it happens.

Photos of Quincy.

The rush of blood fills my head, and Ella’s grip on my hand tightens. I’m not going to lose control. I’m not going to sink into this firestorm of guilt and hate. I can witness it from a distance, the way I have to witness these photos. Rage slowly consumes me. Breathe. Breathe.

“Do you want to leave?” she murmurs into my ear. Both of her hands firmly around mine.

I offer her the single word although it comes out harsh and ragged. “No.” I don’t want to stay, but I’m not walking out now. I won’t walk out now. I have to face this as much as Quincy's murderer does. I have to look at the consequences of my actions. Forcing myself to restrain every emotion, I tell her calmly, “We’ll stay.”

“Okay.” Ella sounds even and sure. She’s not disappointed that I want to stay, though I do glance over at her face in profile. Should I have brought her here? She’s under the care of The Firm because her past caught up with her. Overwhelmed her.

“What about you?”

Ella’s eyes come to mine, and I don’t see an ounce of indecision there. “It’s hard to look at,” she says, keeping her voice low. “But I want to be with you for this.”

I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles.

I’m so damn grateful she’s here, and it brings back that overwhelming sense that she should be mine. In every way possible. Using the D/s relationship as the only framework for us seems like a cop-out, in a way. Saying that’s all we can have is a lie. It’s not true. There can be more. Another layer. If Ella wants it. If she really does want it, once all of this is over and she’s not in The Firm’s care. Not a minute before.

There’s a brief recess where Ella insists I eat a granola bar, and then we’re back in the courtroom for the defense to respond.

And that’s when I see this is going to be different.

Murder cases like this often have trials that stretch out for days. Weeks, even. There’s a shift in the energy in the room when we come back, the defense attorneys consulting in low voices at the front of the room. One of them approaches the bench, and the judge listens. Nods.

“What’s happening?” asks Ella. “Can you hear?”

“No. But we’ll know soon enough.”

We do know soon enough. What happens is that the defense puts the murderer on the stands.

He’s a tall guy, too thin and pale, with dark bags under his eyes. He’s lost weight since they put his picture in the news for killing Quincy. I’d expected to feel pure fury when I saw him on the stand, but looking at him now, all I feel along with the rage is …

Emptiness.

I’ve been staring at the back of his head all day, and seeing his face doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change that Quincy is gone and never coming back. She’ll be dead forever, and it will always have begun with our conversation.

Justice can be healing, though. We have to own our actions, but we cannot own anyone else’s. This will change something. It will bring a sense of closure. There will be no more open case, no more phone calls, no more text messages. Quincy can rest and her name will be spoken by people who knew her beyond those photographs. The memories of her smiling will be