Sorrow Road (Bell Elkins #5) - Julia Keller Page 0,74
almost a whisper now. “She was ashamed. She knew you’d be so disappointed in her. I know I made the wrong decision, not telling you, but—but I was afraid. Afraid that if I didn’t agree, she might—do some harm to herself. Our little girl, Belfa.”
By now Clay was standing up beside the bed. The room was dark, but his movements were discernable by the brief rasp of a zipper being pulled up on his Levi’s, by the rustle of a flannel shirt being put on. He’d caught the gist of the conversation, of the burgeoning emergency. He was leaving. And she had to let him go.
Clay knew the night was lost to them. Because Carla always came first. He had understood that from the first moment of their relationship. Bell had never had to spell it out; it was always there, a permanent and unassailable truth. It was a natural fact of their shared universe: There was Carla—and then, miles down the list, there was everyone and everything else.
She felt his hand on her arm as he leaned over the bed. It was a question: Did she need anything? She lifted his hand and kissed his palm, admiring its hardness, a hardness that testified to the physical labor he did each day, building things, creating things. He would understand the subtext of the kiss: No, I’ve got this.
Another man might have tried to stay, insisting on helping her deal with Carla, but Clay Meckling knew her better than that. She would make love to him, but she would not let him into the deepest part of her life. That, too, was something he’d understood from the beginning.
She heard a brief medley of creaks as Clay went down the old wooden staircase. She heard the back door open and close. If she hadn’t had to return to her conversation with Sam and could focus on something else, she also would have heard, in the next minute or so, the distant ruckus of Clay’s truck engine as it came to life in her driveway.
“Belfa?” Sam said.
“You did what you thought was best, Sam. But I had no idea—”
“I know, I know.” His sigh was a deeply troubled one. And then it was as if he had abruptly slipped the shackles of intense emotion. He was back to his old self. Back in control. He was the hard-nosed, slash-and-burn attorney who had risen from a scruffy upbringing in West Virginia to a position of power in a top D.C. law firm, a man who beat the odds. He was a success because he got things done, dammit. He took care of business. He was a winner. And being a winner meant that he did not coddle losers. Even if the loser in question was his own daughter. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen next. No more chances. No more hand-holding. I’m picking her up tonight.”
“Tonight.” Bell repeated it back to him, so he’d know how ludicrous it was. “It’s late, Sam. The temperature’s minus seven. We’re expecting another foot of snow overnight. In these mountains. And you’re going to drive over here tonight?”
He grunted his displeasure. “Okay, fine. First thing in the morning. I mean early. In the meantime, I’ll call the DA and try to get this thing straightened out. I’ve known him for years. He’ll deal. So you tell her to be ready. Packed and ready. You got that? Am I being absolutely clear here? Or should I repeat it? Go slower? Put it in writing, maybe? Send you a text?”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like I’m one of your interns,” Bell snapped back at him. She’d had enough of his attitude. Enough of his bullying. Yes, this was a crisis; yes, Carla’s future was very likely dangling in the balance. But Bell had done nothing wrong. She did not deserve his scorn. If she’d know about Carla’s arrest—if he had confided in her, which he damned well should have done—she would have handled this differently.
He knew that, too.
There was a pause. “Point taken,” Sam said. It was the closest he would ever come to an apology. Winners never apologized: That was another one of his rules. “I’m just concerned, Belfa. This is a grave situation. I’m about to use up every last favor I have access to. And when that happens—”
“Understood.” Without Sam’s protection, without his influence, Carla could be in serious trouble. Skipping a preliminary hearing was not like blowing off a dentist appointment.