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“No, Lori,” he says, his voice grave. “Not my father.”
That knot doubles in size. “Who?”
“My mother. We were in a shopping mall, and she had to go to the bathroom. I was waiting on her in the hallway outside. The man, the real killer, approached where I stood, stopped in front of me, looked me in the eyes, and then gave me an evil smirk.”
Tears well in my eyes and I have to remind myself that this is not when his mother died. I grip his hand so tightly, so very tightly, as he continues, “I remember ice sliding down my spine a moment before he charged in the women’s bathroom, and that look he’d given me, that smirk. I knew he was going to kill her. I knew. I ran after him, but he was already on top of her. I jumped on his back, but he threw me against a stall and my head thundered against the wall. I tried to get up and he screamed at me to stay down or he’d kill her instead of beat her. I stayed down. I stayed down, Lori.”
“What else could you do?” I lean forward and cup his face. “You were a teenager, Cole. A young teenager. You couldn’t have done much of anything.”
“I could have gone for help. I sat there. I was stunned and scared and—” He pulls back, his hands settling on his own knees. “I could have done something more. Something. I could have jumped on him again. I could have hit him. Screamed bloody murder. But no. After he ordered me to stay down, I was paralyzed.”
“You were a kid.”
“And she was my mother who ended up in the hospital for a full week. She barely lived. Ironically, considering my father’s job caused that attack, it’s why I became a criminal law attorney. My way of making up for the monster I let hurt someone I love.” He stands up, withdrawing completely now, and then he’s walking away, standing at the window, his fists pressing to the glass, chin on his chest. I quickly follow him, slipping between him and the window, but I don’t touch him. I give him space, I let him decide what he needs right now, but the picture is far too clear.
“It was like history repeated itself. Someone you love. Another bathroom. Another man attacking.”
“Yes. Exactly.” He stares down at me for eternal moments. “This is a part of me I clearly suppressed. I didn’t know it was still there, not in a truly reachable way. It affects me. I can’t deny that now and it pisses me off. It was a lifetime ago.”
“Of course it does. How can it not? Cole, it makes you who you are. It’s a part of why you fight so hard for your clients.”
“You don’t understand, Lori. I didn’t do relationships before you for a reason. I didn’t see that as part of this, but it was. You’re right. It is a part of who I am. I didn’t let someone get close to me that could get hurt. That ex I told you about, the one that cheated—she called me emotionally detached because I was.”
“But you’re not. Not at all.”
His hands come down on my waist and he pulls me to him. “Not with you. I never blinked. I never considered what was buried. It just didn’t exist with you, but now it does.”
My heart skips a beat. “What are you saying?”
“I’m clearly not good at fearing I will lose you. I don’t do fear well. I don’t do sit and wait well. I’m going to protect you, I have to protect you, starting with this case, and the present situation. You’re going to have to listen. You’re going to have to deal with how overbearing I’m going to be. I need you to understand.”
I cup his face. “I’ll be careful.”
“No,” he says, his hands coming down on mine. “That’s not enough. You need to communicate. You can’t just—”
“I know,” I say. “I will. And we’ll fight and as you said—fuck. But we’ll make it work.”
“You’re strong-willed and independent, and while I love those things about you, I’m going to—”
“I know what you’re going to do,” I say. “Knowing why matters. We’ll deal with it, Cole. This is not going to beat us.”
“I’ll shove it back in a box, but it’s going to take time. You need to know that. I need to know you can handle that.”
“I can. I will, but maybe shoving it in a box isn’t the answer. Maybe it needs to be out. Maybe—”
“No. This needs to be buried. It has to be.”
I swallow. “Okay. I’ll help you.”
He drags my hands between us. “Ending this case completely will help me. Cat’s going to release her article tomorrow. I know you know that.”
“You asked her to write it. I know. I was afraid it would get her the wrong attention.”
“I agree,” he surprises me by saying. “I regretted the request for that very reason. When I came out of the meeting with the ADA, it was with one certainty. Four women are dead and more could die and law enforcement isn’t going to do anything. Using a reporter to pressure the DA isn’t an abnormal action, but this is Cat we’re talking about.”
“And?”
“And Reese said that Cat decided to write the article before I requested she do it. Unlike me, with my past, which I did not share, they don’t feel like her doing her normal job is a risk beyond anything we already do. He said she’s not going to back down. This is why she does what she does. To make a difference. I need you to talk to her.”
