Page 7 of Defy

My hand trembled, knowing who I truly wanted to call.

Damon.

He was my safe place. The one I’d picked. My Dom, my protector.

But then again, because of me, he spent the better part of the day treated like a criminal. A team of officers had come into Damon’s penthouse acting as if he’d committed Keith’s murder and brought him down to the station for hours upon hours of questioning. It had all been a ruse to capture the real target: me.

Before the cops took me into custody, I saw the exhaustion on Damon’s face—the dark shadows under his eyes.

I couldn’t put the man I loved in more of a precarious situation. My family handled scenarios in this vein without blinking. Whatever Oliana was about to tell me about Damon before we were interrupted meant nothing in this situation.

Calling Lucian over Damon was the right thing to do.

Then why wouldn’t the nagging feeling of guilt evaporate from the pit of my stomach?

Because deep down inside, you want to see Damon above anyone else, Sophia.

Ignoring my inner voice, I dialed Lucian’s cell.

He answered on the first ring. “Thank fuck. Those bastards are giving us the run around about bullshit paperwork, overloaded processing system, and other crap. I have a right mind to call in every favor owed to me and have all of them deal with it.”

“I don’t think having this type of conversation while on the phone with me, especially when I’m in jail, is the best use of our time.”

“We’re blocked at every turn and haven’t had any luck through our normal channels.”

I remembered what that asshole cop said about the DA.

“What do you mean? I thought you could get anyone out. Is this DA that powerful?”

“He’s only one part of it.” Lucian released a frustrated growl. “This situation is a mess. Whoever set you up wants it to stick. And the judge has had it in for us for a while. No one else would have signed off on the warrant with just that one piece of evidence. Fingerprints. There were at least fifty other people's prints in the place. I hate that prick. I hated him when he was a DA, and I fucking despise him even more now.”

“Lucian, what does this have to do with bail? There has to be a hearing or something about bail.”

“Aren’t you listening? The judge is the one who tried Dad for Lane Constantine’s murder. That’s why he was so happy to lock you up. And with the prosecutor’s argument that you’re a flight risk because of our family connections to the unsavory elements of the world. He denied bail.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m denied bail because of something from our childhood. I’m innocent. You believe me, don’t you.” I couldn’t hide the panic in my voice.

“I know you didn’t kill that bastard, no matter how much I wish you had.”

“I don’t even know how he died. Was he shot?”

“Poisoned.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s dumb. Any toxicology test can detect that shit.”

“Exactly, that’s why I knew you couldn’t have done anything that stupid.” His deadpan tone had me smiling for a fraction of a second, even though I wanted to cry at the thought of having to move into the actual city lockup system.

All of a sudden I remembered something that happened a few years ago. “Oh God. There’s something that I need to tell you. It may have to do with the poison.”

“What? Spit it out.”

“A model friend of mine made some stupid comment about me using poison to handle Morelli business when I stood her up at a party. It was a dumb offhanded comment.”

“Let me guess. It’s the same friend you were caught dancing with on a bar top.”

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