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Did I want my ex dead?
That question hangs in the air between myself and Reese while the entire room waits for my answer.
“No,” I say finally, too many seconds later. “I didn’t want him dead. I have never wished anyone dead. Not even him.”
Reese doesn’t immediately reply. He’s intimidating, his eyes probing and intense. My nerves bristle and I grip Gabe’s hand where it rests on my knee under the table.
“It took you a long time to answer that question,” Reese says, leaning in closer.
“You didn’t ask if I killed Kenneth or even if I hired someone to kill him,” I say. “You asked if I ever wanted him dead. If you’d have asked me those questions, my reply would have been fast. No, I didn’t kill him. No, I didn’t hire someone to kill him. But as to the question, did I ever want him dead? I hated him enough to need to consider my reply. I wanted to be honest.”
Reese arches a brow. “Were you?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you hate him?” Reese asks.
Why?
One word manages to be such a complicated, emotional, and personal question. A question that cuts and digs and bites. A question that exposes a part of me that I don’t even want to know as me. A part of me that was weak, so very weak. I never want to be that weak again.
I look down, aware of the audience, uncomfortable with them. Uncomfortable with this answer reflecting my life.
“Leave us alone,” Reese orders the room.
“No,” I say quickly, meeting his stare. “You’re going to tell Cat and I’m going to tell Gabe and one or all of you will tell Reid. They might as well stay.”
“As your legal counsel,” Reese replies, “should I become your legal counsel, I can assure you privacy, even with them.”
“But what does that achieve?” I challenge. “These people are all protecting me. They deserve to know who I am.” I don’t give him time to argue. “Kenneth threatened me often.” I glance at Gabe. “You know that, at least to some degree. You saw—”
“Yes,” Gabe confirms. “I saw.”
“Expand on the word threatened for me,” Reese urges. “How did he threaten you?”
“Words mostly,” I say and because I can’t choke the rest of the sentence out while looking at Gabe, I look at Reese and add, “but he could be physically abusive as well.”
Gabe pulls me around to him again. “That bastard hit you?”
I swallow hard. “Yes, Gabe. He hit me. He hit me and I know staying with him despite that was foolish but it was all about my mother. I had to protect my mother. I know that seems weak but—”
“Weak?” Gabe demands. “You think I think you’re weak? Youare notweak. You weren’t weak by staying and you don’t need to defend yourself in this room or to me. He was the asshole. He was the abuser.”
Emotion wells in my chest and clogs my throat. “I should have found a way out.”
“You did,” Gabe says. “You got out.”
“Gabe’s right on all points,” Reese states. “You don’t need to defend yourself with us.” He waits for me to look at him and then adds, “Unfortunately, abuse does provide the police with a motive for you to kill Kenneth.”
“I didn’t kill him,” I bite out vehemently. “I didn’t do this. I didn’t hire someone to do this.”
“Relax baby,” Gabe says, catching my hand. “He’s just stating facts.”
“I believe you,” Reese replies. “Gabe’s right again. This is about facts and strategy. We’ll decide what you need to share and with who when we know more about the murder.”
“Then you’ll represent me?” I ask.
“Yes,” Reese says. “I will. I believe you’re innocent and from what I’ve been told by Reid and Walker Security, there were plenty of people who wanted your ex dead. But I need to ask a direct question and get an honest answer. You said you were protecting your mother. Explain that.”
