Page 36 of Lovetown, USA

Trey

Landry doesn’t mince words.

“Jury selection starts soon,” he says flatly like he’s telling me the weather report. “We need to prepare for trial.”

My chest tightens. A jury. Of my peers. Who are gonna assess and dissect every intimate detail of my personal life, weighing my character, measuring me against a moment of weakness at a vulnerable time in my life.

It is what it is.

“I’ll be ready,” I say. “I have no choice.”

“Well…” Landry trails off. “You know you have options.”

“Absolutely not,” I insist. “I’m not taking a fucking plea. How many times do I have to say it?”

“You wouldn’t be getting your money’s worth if I didn’t give you the choice, alright? But if you wanna fight, then we fight.”

After our conversation, I sit in my office, staring at the computer screen, not seeing a damn thing. I take a few deep breaths, then dial the woman at the center of all this bullshit.

Desiree answers on the third ring.

“We need to talk,” I say. “The case is moving forward. You’re gonna have to testify.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Okay,” she finally says like she’d already been expecting it.

“Cam will, too,” I add.

That gets a sigh out of her, heavy and full of frustration. “I don’t wanna see him dragged into this.”

“You think I do?” My voice is sharper than I mean it to be. “This is where we’re at. He was there, which makes him part of it whether we like it or not.”

She’s quiet again, which is completely out of character.

But then she surprises me.

“It’s my fault.”

I sit up straighter, pressing the phone against my ear. “What did you say?”

“I said it’s my fault. All of this is on me.”

I close my eyes, not knowing what to say. It’s the first time she’s ever admitted it outright. “Thank you,” I finally mutter. “I didn’t even realize how much I needed to hear you say that.”

“I’m sorry,” she says softly. She sounds broken. “I really am.”

Well, since we’re admitting shit, I clear my throat and say, “I’m not blameless. We had problems before he…before you and him. I wasn’t present for you the way I should have been. So I apologize for that.”

“I appreciate that.”

I blow out a breath, letting my head fall back against the headrest. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m scared, Des. I’m taking a big risk fighting this. I could lose everything.”

“You won’t,” she says, and she sounds so sure of herself, I halfway believe her. “I’ll take care of it. You’re not alone in this. I’ll do what I have to do. Don’t worry.”

I nod, feeling just the tiniest bit of hope for the first time since this whole thing started.

Monica looks up from her computer, her mouth full of almonds.

“Dr. Montgomery. What can I do for you?”

“I need to see the mayor.”

She chews quickly, swallowing hard. “She’s not in at the moment. I can let her know—“

“Where is she?”

Monica’s face falls before she schools her expression to something more neutral. “I’m not at liberty to—“

“How much to give you liberty?”

Her eyes widen. “Sir, I…” she trails off when her eyes land on the fat wad of cash I just pulled out of my wallet.

I count out five one-hundred dollar bills, passing them discreetly across the desk.

The bills take up residence inside Monica’s bra. “Hair appointment.”

“Where at?”

She pops another almond in her mouth. “Excess. It’s a salon off Cupid’s Arrow Drive.”

I nod once and take my leave.

Once I pull up and get comfortable outside the salon, I feel like I’m on a stakeout. I clock her security a few spaces over, but I ain’t worried about him. I just wanna talk to her, that’s all.

She comes out about thirty minutes later, hair swinging in the breeze, a little extra pep in her step. I get out and intercept her on the sidewalk before she can get to her car. I’m smiling, so she waves her security off, assuming this is just a friendly update or some shit.

It’s not.

“What are you doing out here in the middle of the workday?” she asks with a grin. “Playing hooky?”

“Something like that.” I scrub a hand down my face. “We have a problem.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Lane’s been having a hard time lately. You know anything about that?”

She conjures up a thoughtful expression, but I know better. “I don’t see why I would.”

“That’s good to know, Daphne, because going after her would be a real bad idea. Not that you did,” I add. “But hypothetically speaking, let’s say somebody put the word out there to blackball her around here and make her feel unwelcome. That would be a bad fucking idea.”

Her breathing shallows, her eyes narrowing. “Why is that?”

“Because that would bother me. And when I’m bothered, I fight back, and I don’t always fight clean.”

“I think…” she trails off, glancing over at her security, who’s still lurking. “I think it’s odd that you would think to get involved in something that doesn’t really involve you.”

I nod slowly. “I can see why you think that. You’re wrong, but I understand. But here’s the thing. I ain’t gon’ hold you. I know you’re a busy woman. Probably headed to a nail appointment my tax dollars are paying for,” I say with a chuckle.

She laughs in kind.

I lower my voice. “Here’s the thing: I know this chick. She’s real official. Big job, real important. Me and her, we used to fuck. Oh, we got down .”

She smiles at that.

“It’s all ancient history,” I say. “But see, the pictures ain’t.”

She sucks in a breath as her eyes go wide.

“I figured there may come a time when I needed something, or needed to get out of something. Insurance or whatever.” I step closer. “I wouldn’t have thought I’d use my insurance for something like this, but here we are.”

She swallows hard.

“I’m a doctor now, but deep down, I’m still a country nigga from Sunnyside. Which sounds nice, but it ain’t. I don’t think she knew that about me. Her fault for not doing her research, I guess.”

“What do you want?” she says, almost in a whisper.

“I’m glad you asked. I want you or whoever to leave Lane the fuck alone. Let me handle her like I said I would. Simple.”

She nods. “Got it.”

“Do you?” I stare down at her, nostrils flaring. “Did you really think that was gonna go well for you?”

“I didn’t think you’d care this much.”

“Now you know, huh?”

“Yeah.” She shakes her head. “Sorry.”

“Yep.” I’m already walking away. “Enjoy your day, your honor.”

Lane comes bouncing out of the county courthouse with a thousand-watt smile on her face. Her notepad is tucked under her arm, and her bag is flapping against her hip.

She jumps in before I can even get my seatbelt off.

“What’s up with you?” I ask.

“Just…happy.”

“You found something?”

She throws her arms around me and plants a big, wet kiss on my lips. “That’s an understatement.”

I wanna know, but at the same time, I don’t. So I say, “Congratulations,” and pull off, debating if today’s gonna be the day.

“Where are we going?" she says as she looks around. “This doesn’t look familiar.”

“I wanna show you something.”

I drive us out to the lot where the clinic will stand.

It’s just gravel and foundation markers for now, but in my head, I see the vision.

The walls, waiting room, exam tables. I see kids running in with coughs, the elderly filling their prescriptions.

And nobody having to check their bank accounts before I check their vitals.

We stand there in the dust, and she looks around like she’s seeing it, too.

“This is it,” I say quietly. “This is what I’ve been fighting for.”

Her smile softens as she looks up at me. “This is healing something in you, isn’t it?”

I look down at her, surprised that the thought never occurred to me before she said it.

“Maybe,” I say, still working it out. “Thinking about my grandaddy…that still hurts.”

She’s quiet, absorbing it, her eyes steady on mine.

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does.”

We’re quiet for a while before I turn to her. “What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your story. Is that healing something in you?”

She kicks at a rock. “I just want the truth. That’s what drives me. Black letters on white paper. No obfuscation. No confusion. Just facts.”

I think about that. “But is it always black and white? Don’t we live some parts of our lives in the grey?”

“I don’t,” she says matter-of-factly. “I’m not built like that.”

“I hear you,” I say. “I respect it.”

Her smile widens. “No spoilers, but you’re really gonna respect me when you read what I wrote.”

“Can’t wait.”

She leans to the left, nudging me playfully with her body. “Did you see it coming, the backlash? Is that why you’ve been lowkey warning me all this time?”

“It doesn’t matter why,” I say firmly. “I just don’t want…I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

Something shifts in her expression. She doesn’t press me, though. She just stares up at me, long enough that I feel the guilt gnawing at me again. It’s moved from my chest to the pit of my stomach.

I don’t know how much longer I can do this.

“By the way, I rented you a car,” I say, trying to break through the heaviness. “No more Ubers. I want you safe out here.”

Her face lights up. “Trey…” She shakes her head. “That’s so sweet.”

I let her embrace me, returning the gesture, holding her tight. But I don’t enjoy it. I can’t. Because the mess is too unruly now. I’m in too deep, and there’s no way I come out of this without losing something important to me.