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Chapter 13
Just wrapped things up. Be out in a few.
Cornell read Benton’s text, sipping the coffee he bought from the bakery down the street from the courthouse. He had texted Tara to ask for Benton’s number under the guise that he wanted to see if Benton had time for a round of golf. It took a few more tries since Tara told Cornell that Benton didn’t actually play golf, but finally she conceded.
He leaned back against the bench and scrolled through his messages to the last one John had sent.
If she doesn’t want to report it to the police, there’s nothing we can do.
Cornell bit the inside of his cheek. She has to, he thought to himself. He can’t get off again.
“Hey,” Benton said, jogging over to Cornell. “Sorry, man. Had the judge that no one wants this morning. He’s basically deaf, so you need to repeat everything three times.”
Cornell stood, offering Benton a cup of coffee. “No worries. I told you, I was in the area.” It was a lie. Cornell had hauled ass after the coaches’ meeting to downtown Dallas. He had also lied to Evan, who he told that he needed to run out to take Ali to her neurologist appointment.
But he hadn’t seen or heard from Ali in days. Each of his messages went unanswered, and she didn’t pick up the few times he had called.
“Thanks,” Benton said, taking the cup. They began to walk down the street. “So, what’s going on?”
Cornell wet his lips nervously. He wanted to spill, to beg Benton for help. He had no idea if the District Attorney’s office had connections. I don’t even know what I’m asking for. Help? A favor? Cornell opened his mouth to begin and quickly shut it as nerves crept up his body. Faced with having to admit it out loud, unprompted, was crushing.
“I, um, I could use some legal advice,” Cornell began, burning his tongue as he took a big sip of his still too-hot coffee.
Benton paused mid-stride. “What kind of legal advice?”
I don’t know.
“Are you in any trouble?” Benton adjusted his glasses.
“No. I don’t know, maybe I’m not looking for legal advice. I… you work on assault cases, right?” Cornell asked. “Sexual assault?”
“I have,” Benton said, tilting his head in question as they remained standing in the middle of the sidewalk. “Why?”
Pursing his lips together, Cornell looked everywhere except at Benton. Don’t make me say it, man.
An uneasy look drifted across Benton’s face, and he nearly took a step back. “Is this… ” He narrowed his gaze. “Ali?”
Cornell shut his eyes.
Ali, fuck yes, it’s about Ali. His entire body trembled, spilling some of the coffee onto his hand. Cornell didn’t even feel it burn his skin.
“Let’s sit.” Benton placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding Cornell to another bench.
Cornell placed the cup on the ground and clasped his hands tightly together to stop them from shaking. “What would you need to put him away?”
“Cornell—”
“Come on, man. Everything. I need to know what she has to do.” Because I can’t breathe right knowing he’s walking around like he didn’t just rip our world apart.
Benton sighed beside him. “When?”
Cornell looked down at the ground. “A little over a week ago.” When I was at the fucking Cowboys’ game having a beer, he sneered at himself.
“Wait, Tara told me it was a car accident. What are you talking about?”
Shaking his head, Cornell exhaled heavily. “It was before. Between us, okay? I don’t know. She… she said he tried.”
Cornell’s head began to pound as his brain took off trying to decipher what that meant. But he reminded himself it made no difference. If Graham had even scared Ali into thinking that was a possibility, he would have the same reaction—pure, extreme fury.
