Page 13 of Hooked on Mack (Hooked #7)
Mack
“I might have underestimated how quickly things would escalate.”
“Underestimated?” Larissa snorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Mack, what part of that didn't scream disaster to you?”
“Ah, but where's your sense of adventure?” I teased, nudging her. Her laughter bubbled up, infectious and bright.
“Adventure,” she muttered, shaking her head as our laughter died down. “You're going to be the death of me, Mack Harrington.”
I winked at her, trying to ignore the pounding in my chest. The truth was, I'd follow her on whatever adventure she chose. Even if it meant sitting on this cold floor, surrounded by police and security guards who were no doubt wondering how two lawyers managed to land themselves in such a mess.
I tilted my head back to stem the flow. My nose throbbed with each heartbeat, and I held my suit jacket against it, the once pristine fabric now marred by bright-red stains.
“Are you okay?”
“Never better,” I mumbled through my makeshift bandage, offering her a lopsided grin. “I've always wanted to see how I'd look with a crimson accessory.”
“Very fashionable. Go clean yourself up. There’s a bathroom over there.”
I glanced around the hallway, noting the uniforms and walkie-talkies that surrounded us like a swarm of bees. “I think our friends in blue might have something to say about that.”
“Can't hurt to ask. Excuse me, Officer? My friend here could really use a trip to the restroom.”
One of the officers approached us, his face stern and unreadable. “I'm sorry, but we can't let Mr. Harrington leave this area. We need to preserve any potential evidence, and for safety reasons, we have to keep everyone contained.”
“Even if I promise not to touch anything?” I tried, giving him my most charming smile despite the blood still dripping from my nose.
“Sorry, Mr. Harrington. Rules are rules.”
“Great,” I grumbled as the officer returned to his post. “Looks like I'll be sporting this new look for a while.”
“Hey, don't worry. We'll figure this out. We've faced worse situations before, right?”
“True,” I admitted. “But none of them involved me looking like a bad extra from a horror movie.”
“First time for everything,” Larissa winked.
Suddenly, Mark Kennsington strode up to us, his face contorted with rage. He pointed an accusatory finger at Larissa and shouted, “I want my lawyer!”
“Uh, Mark,” I said, trying to wipe the blood from my nose without smearing it all over my face, “Larissa is your lawyer.”
“Exactly!” he yelled, not even bothering to lower his voice. “And she's supposed to be protecting me from this circus!”
As if on cue, a swarm of reporters descended upon us like vultures, their cameras flashing and microphones shoved in our faces. Some shouted questions, while others stayed eerily quiet, as if they knew something we didn't.
“Mr. Kennsington, can you comment on the allegations against you?” one reporter demanded.
“Ms. Montgomery, how confident are you in your client's innocence?” another chimed in.
“Mack, how's your nose? Is it broken?” asked a third, her morbid curiosity almost comical.
“Okay, everyone, back off!” Larissa snapped. “This is a private matter. We will not be answering any questions at this time.”
With the reporters silenced, I took the opportunity to share my own thoughts with Larissa.
“Hey,” I whispered, leaning in close, “do you really think we can get out of this unscathed?”
“Of course,” she replied, her voice firm but gentle. “We've faced worse situations before, right? Trust me, Mack, we'll make it through this.”
Just as the reporters began to fire off another round of questions, the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding. Judge Malcolm Phillips emerged.
“Judge Phillips,” Larissa acknowledged.
“Miss Montgomery.”
But then, out of nowhere, Larissa started laughing.
It was the kind of laughter that built gradually, starting as a small chuckle and escalating into full-blown hilarity.
I blinked, dumbfounded. This was not the time for laughter, and yet, there she was, nearly doubled over with glee.
The reporters, equally stunned, ceased their questioning as they turned to watch her.
“Mack, just look at us,” she managed between giggles. “We're like some twisted movie—the lawyer, the bleeding billionaire, and the grumpy judge!”
I had to admit, she had a point. The absurdity of our situation was almost comical, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt the corners of my mouth twitching upward. A chuckle escaped my lips before I could stop it.
“Miss Montgomery, are you finished?” Judge Phillips said, raising an eyebrow. His stern visage only served to fuel Larissa's laughter, inciting a fresh wave of giggles.
“Apologies, Your Honor,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It's just… sometimes, you have to laugh at the absurdity of life, don't you think?”
“Indeed,” he replied, allowing the faintest hint of a smile to grace his lips. “Now, if we could all return to some semblance of order…”
“Of course, Your Honor,” Larissa agreed, her laughter finally subsiding. “We'll get this sorted out in no time.”
As Judge Phillips turned to address the police and security guards, I marveled at Larissa's ability to find humor even in the darkest of times. Her laughter had been like a lifeline, reminding me that we were more than just pawns—we were two people who had found each other.
“Let’s just go grab something to eat until they get booked.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ve got an extra jacket in my briefcase.”