Page 11 of Cast Stones
She sucks in a shuddering breath. “Why requestme? There are so many other public defenders in this state.”
And there were so many other girls on that street that day, but I didn’t want any of them either.
“I wanted you.”
I still want you.
“Like I already told you,” I say patiently. “You owe me. Now it’s time to give the devil his due.”
She rears back, those meadow-green eyes shining with unshed tears. “And like I toldyou, I don’t owe you anything.”
“The wages of sin is death, Madigan, but on this occasion, I’ll settle for honesty.”
There’s a flicker in her expression. A spark of something long forgotten.
“You’re a monster,” she whispers, sliding her chair back a foot, the sharp screech of metal against concrete sounding like a wounded animal. “I can't believe I ever…”
“I’m not the one pretending to be someone I’m not,Miss Bailey.”
I’m making her unravel before my eyes. Mycara mia’s breathing escalates, her chest rising and falling in an uneven and rapid rhythm. Her creamy complexion turns to chalk as she wipes a bead of sweat off her forehead.
“You didn’t forget us, did you, Madi?” I say casually. “No matter how deep you tried to bury it. Me, Cain, the Divine Disciples of God—”
“I had to!” She sucks in a ragged breath. “It’s them, isn’t it? The nine other bodies? Did you m-murder them, or did Cain?” she says, stumbling over that perfect word.
“Do you really want to know?”
“What did you do to them?”
“Our ten Drummers Drumming?” I laugh, amused at my own joke. “They got exactly what they deserved. And they’ll continue to rot like the pieces of shit they are in the dirt, even after I walk out of here a free man.” My demeanor flips as I jab my finger onto the cheap table. “And Iwillbe walking out of here a free man. As will Cain. No plea deal. No reduced sentence. Full exoneration,or nothing.”
“That’s why you dragged me in here? To threaten me into helping you?” Her expression tightens. I can tell she does things her way nowadays, but I’m here to change all that. “What if I don’t agree?”
“Then this fucked-up fairy tale ends badly for both of us, and the location of those bodies will never be revealed.”
She sucks in a harsh breath. “Judge Harris will be fascinated to hear about how you kidnapped me off the streets when I was sixteen and sold me into hell!”
There’s that fire again.
“I’m sure he’ll be even more fascinated to hear his public defender is a—”
“Stop!” She holds up her hand, her chest rising and falling to a crashing beat.
I see the moment my little rose breaks. The moment the suit of armor folds away and the thorns snap.
I told her I’d come for her.
She lost faith.
“Be strong and courageous,” I say, straightening in my seat. “Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you…”
“…he will not leave you or forsake you,” she finishes, quoting the last line of the scripture like it’s physically hurting her to do so. “Deuteronomy 31:6.” A whimper escapes her lips.Is she remembering that these were the last words I said to her?“You weren’t God then, Luca,” she croaks, “and you sure as hell aren’t now.”
“No, but I am your lord,” I snap suddenly, the skin on my wrists chafing as I fight the chains that keep us apart.I need to touch her. To hold her. To turn her nightmares into something stronger.“I meant what I said. I will never leave you or forsake you.”
“You died,” she repeats, her voice cracking again. “I saw the knife. The blood…” A tear finally breaks free and rolls down her cheek. “You died.”
I grit my teeth. Ten years later, and I can still feel the hot white pain as the blade sank through layers of flesh and muscle. The coppery smell of blood still fills my nose and floods my mouth, the memory of her name drowning on my tongue as she ran.
