Page 66 of Client Privilege

“No,” Alex’s voice, stronger than before.

“That wasn’t a request.” The menace in Marcus’s tone made my blood run cold.

I blew through another intersection, narrowly missing a delivery truck. Three more blocks. Two more. One.

The Parkview Motel’s neon sign came into view, its garish red glowilluminating the nearly empty parking lot. As I screeched to a halt, two police cruisers pulled in simultaneously, lights flashing but sirens silent. I leapt from my car, pointing toward room twenty-three where the door hung partially open.

“He’s in there,” I shouted to the officers emerging from their vehicles. “Marcus Delaney. He’s assaulting my client.”

The officers moved with practiced efficiency, hands on their weapons as they approached the door. I followed close behind, heart in my throat.

“Toronto Police!” one officer announced, pushing the door fully open.

The scene inside turned my stomach. Marcus had Alex pinned to the bed, one hand pressed against his throat, the other tearing at his clothes. Alex’s phone lay discarded on the floor, still connected to mine.

“Get off him! Now!” the officer commanded, weapon drawn.

Marcus looked up, momentarily frozen in surprise. That second of hesitation was all they needed. The officers rushed forward, pulling Marcus off Alex with controlled force. As soon as he was free, Alex scrambled away, eyes wild with terror.

When he saw me standing in the doorway, something broke in his expression. He launched himself toward me, colliding with my chest, his entire body trembling violently.

“I’ve got you,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around him. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Marcus struggled against the officers as they cuffed him, his face contorted with rage. “This isn’t over!” he shouted. “You think this changes anything? I own this city! I own him!”

“You don’t own anything anymore,” I said coldly, holding Alex tighter as he shook against me.

Sandra appeared in the doorway, breathless, a blanket clutched inher arms. She took in the scene with one quick glance, her professional composure never faltering despite the hour and circumstances.

“Here,” she said, approaching us with the blanket. I took it gratefully, wrapping it around Alex’s shoulders.

Marcus continued shouting threats as the officers led him toward the cruiser. “You’re making a mistake! Do you know who I am? This isn’t over, Alex! It will never be over!”

I turned Alex away from the sight, shielding him with my body. “Let’s get you out of here,” I said softly.

He nodded against my chest, unable to speak.

“I’ll get his things,” Sandra said, already moving efficiently around the small room, gathering the few possessions scattered about.

“Thank you,” I murmured to her, guiding Alex toward my car.

He moved like someone sleepwalking, each step mechanical and uncertain. When we reached the car, I opened the passenger door, but he seemed incapable of letting go of me long enough to get inside.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Finally, he slid into the seat, the blanket pulled tight around him. Sandra appeared with his backpack and a small duffel.

“Everything’s here,” she said, placing the bags in my trunk. “I’ll follow you back to your place.”

I nodded my thanks, too overwhelmed to speak.

The drive to my home passed in silence. Alex stared straight ahead, tears streaming silently down his face. I reached across once to squeeze his hand, and he clutched at my fingers with desperate strength.

When we arrived, he made no move to exit the car. His energy seemed completely depleted, his body limp with exhaustion and trauma.

“Let me help you,” I said gently, coming around to his side.

Without thinking, I lifted him into my arms. He weighed almost nothing, his body curling automatically against my chest. Sandra opened doors ahead of us as I carried him into the house and up thestairs to the guest room.

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