Page 1 of Guilty As Charged (Love and Lawyers #3)

Chapter One

ABBIE

W hy is this so challenging for me? I pause on the busy sidewalk to try to give myself a pep talk, but it only lasts half a second before I’m nearly knocked over.

“Walk much?” a person mutters in annoyance as they hurry past.

“Sorry,” I say to no one in particular as I step to the side to get out of everyone’s way.

You’d think I didn’t grow up in the city, but I was born and raised here. I used to love it until recently—now not so much. Fear really can rule your whole life if you let it. That’s what today is about. Hopefully I’m going to regain part of my life.

The cops won't do anything, so I'll have to go about this a different way. That's where Scout comes in. I met her a few months back at a comic book convention. Comics weren't her thing, but she was there getting a couple of books as a birthday present for her cousin.

I always dress up when I go to conventions, and she complimented my outfit. When she asked to see more of me in cosplay, we shared Instagram handles. Scout and I messaged casually back and forth for a while, but then my life started to go to shit.

When she noticed that I wasn't posting anymore or replying to people, she became worried and reached out more frequently. Thankfully, we switched over to texting before I shut down my social media altogether. It had to be done for my mental health and possibly my physical health too.

“Hey!” someone shouts, and I lift my head. The hood of my sweatshirt falls back, and I see Scout standing there holding open a glass door. “Come on now.” She motions with her hand like I’m a wild animal she’s afraid to scare off. “It’s safer in here.”

Her sincere smile gets me moving, and I walk inside. “Thanks.”

“I said I’d come get you.” Scout reaches out, giving my shoulder a small squeeze. Her keen eyes assess me, but I wave her off.

“I’m good.” I run my hands down the front of my sweatpants to dry them off. They feel clammy, and I have the urge to turn around and run back home. I’ve become a hermit living behind locked doors all the time.

“You’re not fine.” Scout looks me up and down dramatically.

“Ouch, do I look that terrible?”

“No!” Scout immediately shakes her head. “I meant you’re usually dressed up in some way. At least from the times I’ve been around you and then all of your social stuff.”

“I know.” I puff out a breath.

Scout’s right; this isn’t me. I’ve never been one to wear baggy sweats and not care about my clothes. Fashion feels like art to me, and I choose what to wear based on my mood. I've made some of my own stuff as well since it comes with the cosplay territory.

I guess what I’ve got on matches my mood. I'm hiding myself in every which way, and still the walls are pushing in on me.

"Come on. Let's see how we can help." Scout links her arm into mine and leads the way.

She always looks great too, but more high-end fashion.

She’s so put together that if I passed her on the street, I'd think she was a fancy lawyer. She reminds me of those get-ready-with-me videos where everything is perfect when they do their morning and nighttime routines. I bet she’s on one of those schedules that keeps her productive.

"Miss Mann is always allowed up, Clark,” Scout tells one of the two men behind a marble desk. “I'll email you her details." Behind them is a screen listing all the floors in the building with the names next to each floor.

I know jackcrap about law offices and buildings, but this one is really nice. They have to be good to afford it here. I should have googled the firm, but I've been in a funk and staying away from the Internet altogether.

"Hi,” I say to the guards and give them a small wave. They smile politely before Scout takes me over to a bank of elevators. When I see our reflections in the metal, I look at her and then look at me. "I'm so underdressed for this."

"You're fine. It's only my cousin."

"But he's some big-shot lawyer."

"Meh." Scout shrugs, clearly not impressed with her cousin. "Trust me, my cousin loves comic books."

"Not sure that's a good thing." The comic book world is better about women than the gamer world, but there’s still a lingering boys’ club. It's why I'm in this mess to begin with.

“It is. That noncompete you signed is now over. He violated that when he started making passes at you,” Scout says as we step onto the elevator together.

I would make extra money at comic book conventions by doing drawings, and people would often want to take pictures with me when I was dressed up. Between that and social media, I could make an okay living. That’s how I met Geoff.

He was an up-and-coming comic book author.

Geoff asked to take a picture with me, and I did a quick drawing for him.

We chatted, and he asked about potentially working together.

He said he needed help with drawing, and I was excited that he liked my work.

Sure, I’d done comics on my own, but I was always too shy to show anyone. I still am.

It started off easy enough. He’d write, and I’d draw the pages.

Geoff paid me a flat fee for each image I did for him, and after a few months, he started to really take off.

He wanted to do a new series and asked me to sign a contract so that I couldn’t drop out before the series was complete.

It seemed simple enough, and at the time, I understood why he would want to have it in place.

It’s my own stupid fault, but I signed the contract not realizing it had a noncompete.

In addition to that, it included dressing up in cosplay for conventions and that all costumes had to be approved by him.

The clause didn’t make sense because I was ghosting under him.

No one knew I was the one creating the art for his comics or connected to him in any way.

I didn’t realize it until it was too late and there was nothing I could do.

After I signed that paper and started working on the first book in the series, things got weird.

The writing got dirtier, and the details of how he wanted me to draw the main girl made her have an uncanny resemblance to me.

Then he gave me notes on how to draw the hero, who he wanted modeled after him. Only taller, with more hair and abs.

Geoff insisted we spend more time together, with me drawing in front of him. It was one thing after another, and before I knew it, he was trying to control all aspects of my life. Even what I could wear. Worse, the comic book series was blowing up, but all I wanted was to get out.

When I told him, he all but lost his mind and was quick to point out the noncompete and that I had a contract to finish with him. He told me he'd take everything I had. Not that there was a ton, but it didn't end there.

I can't prove it's Geoff, but around the same time, I started getting weird threats and aggressive sexual comments on my socials and through email.

People would send pictures they created of me in graphic sexual positions.

Sometimes with multiple men doing awful things to my image.

A few times the commenters would say where I'd been that afternoon or what I'd worn, and that’s when I started to panic.

It all feels connected, but I have no proof, and the police handed it over to the cybercrimes division. That’s where the case died.

Except it hasn't died for me. In fact, it's getting worse.