Page 15 of Carry On (Love Doesn’t Cure All #4)

LINCOLN

This whole case reeked of social status and rich kids getting their way—two things I fucking hated. Unfortunately for them, I knew their lawyers, I knew their case was nothing more than trumped-up entitlement at its finest, and I knew exactly how I wanted to handle it.

By the time I stormed into the interrogation room where all three assholes were waiting with their lawyers, I was out for blood.

“My name is Lincoln Cassidy,” I said, not giving them a chance to say anything. Getting all of them into a room together had been a feat. That only pissed me off more. “Mr. Calhoun retained me as his lawyer.”

I drew in a deep breath, taking a moment to survey the three kids—Glenn Holden, Elias Stein, and Oren Woods.

From the looks on their faces, Nash had done a number on them.

That little notion was wildly satisfying.

I recognized two of the lawyers sitting with them.

Both were big names connected to big clients.

The third was nothing more than an intern who didn’t belong in that room.

“Listen closely because my client has spent more than enough time in handcuffs.” I took out my phone, which had a map of the park on it, and set it on the table in front of them. No one moved. “Do you know what this is?”

“A fucking phone,” Oren scoffed, but I chose to ignore his attitude.

“This is a map of the park where the three of you accosted my client,” I continued instead. Reaching down, I rotated the map and zoomed in. “Do you know what this is?”

“Are you dumb?” he demanded, a brow arching. “Do you need someone to—”

“This,” I said over him, “is an ATM, and that ATM is attached to a bank, which means it has a security camera that is always filming. As we speak, I have two officers on the way to visit Judge Kramer for a warrant that will let officers pull the security footage from that ATM. Judge Kramer and I are friends. We play golf every month, which means he’ll give me that warrant.

“And when the officers go through that footage, they’re going to find your clients harassing mine,” I told them.

“From there, my client intends to pursue charges against you for assault because you put your hands on my client first, you for theft because you took his property and refused to return it, and then all three of you for harassment because you went out of your way to degrade and humiliate my client.”

“You can’t—”

“Oh, I can, and I will,” I snapped. “And I promise you, I will make it the most publicized case of the year. Every day, I will talk to the press, and I will make sure the three of you are forever associated with attacking an unhoused veteran, one who has a stellar record of service.”

At least, I hoped he did. I was bluffing on that part. I knew for a fact that Nash had been honorably discharged, but that was it.

“Shit,” Elias muttered.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I will make it my personal mission to make sure that the world knows exactly what kind of scumbags the three of you are. Every time anyone looks up your name, this case will be the first thing they see.”

“All right, all right. You made your point, Cassidy,” one of the lawyers, Mark Salvino, interjected. “What do you want?”

I made a show out of glancing at my watch.

“At this point, the officers will be at Judge Kramer’s house in fifteen minutes,” I said.

“Your clients have fourteen minutes to drop the charges and make the most sincere apology imaginable to my client, or I’m going to detonate a bomb in the middle of their cushy little lives.

They won’t be able to go anywhere without being the assholes who harassed a veteran. ”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Oren exclaimed. “Look what he did to my face!”

“You fucked around and found out, kid,” I retorted. “He may have messed up your face, but I’m going to destroy your life. You have twelve minutes now to decide.”

I left without another word, giving them a chance to talk it over and make their decision.

It took them two minutes to cave and drop all charges against Nash, which was honestly longer than it should’ve taken.

I stood on the far side of the precinct in a doorway with my hands shoved in my pockets and my chest uncomfortably tight while I waited for Nash to be let go.

I could’ve left him there, let him figure it out on his own, but I planned to take that man home with me. I planned to help him.

Was it my best idea? Probably not. But he needed a place to stay for the night, a hot meal, and some kind of comfort in knowing he didn’t have to struggle for the night.

It felt like the right thing to do. While I hoped that he’d go along with it, I had a feeling I was about to get in a fight with the man over my willingness to help him.

“It’s been a while, Lincoln.”

That voice.

Fuck.

The tension in my chest increased while my anxiety spiked. I didn’t say a word. I refused to give him the time of day—to even look at him.

Detective Chris Graham. My ex-husband.

He was also the entire reason why I never came to this precinct. I avoided it like the fucking plague. The less contact I had with him, the better.

The scent of his heavy cologne washed over me, making my stomach roll, as he crossed in front of me. One hand braced on the doorframe while he blocked my view. Dark eyes, windswept short hair, a clean face. Once upon a time, I’d found the man attractive. Now, he just made my skin crawl.

“You can’t ignore me,” Chris said.

I absolutely could. I took one long step to the side and kept my gaze firmly across the precinct floor.

“Oh, come on, pretty girl,” he crooned, keeping his voice soft.

Try as I might, I couldn’t hide the visible cringe the demeaning pet name gave me.

No matter how many times I had asked him to stop calling me it, he had never listened.

It was just one more way for him to assert control.

“There you are. Got your attention now, don’t I? ”

Deep breaths. I could get through this without losing my shit or making a scene. It wouldn’t do me any good anyway.

“What’re you doing here, Lincoln?” he asked, pressing the situation. “Come on, now. You can’t step into my precinct and think I won’t find out you’re here.”

“I’m just picking up my client.” I drew in a sharp breath as I opened a door between us that I shouldn’t have. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“See?” he drawled. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

If only he knew.

Across the room, Nash shook the hand of an officer while he collected his stuff. Chris crossed his arms and joined me in staring at my client. The sound he made was off-putting.

“If you wanted to see me, pretty girl, all you had to do was call,” he said. “You didn’t have to scrape the bottom of the barrel for some piece of shit homeless guy to represent. I would’ve answered your call.”

“Shut up,” I snapped before I could stop myself. I didn’t back down from most fights, but I’d run from fighting with him every fucking time.

“What was that?” The change in his mood was instant as his tone darkened, sending a rush of anxiety through my body. He rotated and blocked my view. “Is there something you want to say, Lincoln?”

I held my tongue because while I absolutely wanted to say something, I wouldn’t. Not here. Not now. Not ever. Talking never helped when dealing with him. It hadn’t in the past, and it wouldn’t now. It’d just make it worse. I’d learned that lesson the hard way a few too many times.

“I’m not asking again,” he warned. I pressed my lips together tightly and began running through ways to handle the situation.

A loud cough made him turn. Nash stood there, looking utterly unimpressed. I didn’t need rescuing, but I was grateful for the intervention.

“Sorry, but I need to talk to my lawyer,” Nash said.

“Right,” I murmured. I gestured toward the exit, all too ready to get out of there. “Let’s go.”

“We’ll talk soon, Lincoln,” Chris called after us.

Not if I could help it.