If I Only Knew(21)

I think back to the conversation he had with Parker about superheroes and brothers.

“Maybe you’re more like Thor than you think,” I say as he turns.

“Don’t paint me as the hero.”

“You were a few minutes ago. You could’ve told Callum everything, made me look stupid. You could’ve told him I had a freak out where I was sobbing, but you didn’t.”

“How do you know I wasn’t playing the game we’ve been set up to play?” Milo asks.

I realize I don’t, but something in my gut says he’s not.

Milo has no reason to be nice to me. He’s a rich, arrogant, egomaniac who has lived a life I can only dream of, but only a fool wouldn’t see his motives. He’s desperate for his brother’s affections. The man he looked up to, wanted to be like, but has never been good enough in his eyes.

Just like Thor and Loki.

“I guess we’ll find out. But maybe you’re not the bad guy, Milo. Maybe you’re looking for something.”

He leans in close, his eyes trained on mine. “Don’t try to see something that’s not there. You’ll only end up disappointed, just like everyone else. Now, grab your handbag, we have a trial to get to.”





Chapter Ten





Danielle





“Are you ready?” Milo asks as we sit outside the courthouse.

“No.”

Is anyone ever ready to deal with something painful? That question always baffles me. When the doctor would tell the kids that they were getting a shot, he’d ask, “are you ready?” It was a stupid question. Of course they’re not ready. They knew it was going to hurt like a bitch.

Just like this will.

However, I’m not four years old. I’m an adult, and I have to take the pain.

“Okay, then,” he says as he opens the door. I watch him walk around, opening mine, with his hand out. “Let’s go.”

And face the man who destroyed my entire world.

Not wanting to seem like more of a hot mess, I place my hand in his, and exit the car.

Thankfully, since our exchange in the office, he’s been totally silent. I’ve been so lost in my thoughts. I sent a text to Richard but got no response. I’m not sure how I’ll handle it if the judge didn’t recuse him from defense.

Milo keeps his hand on the small of my back as we go through security. As crazy as it is, I’m glad he’s here. I don’t know him well and that could be the reason why it’s comforting. There’s no expectations that I need to keep it together or fall apart. I can feel whatever it is I feel and he’s still going to show up for work.

My stomach starts to churn as we stand before the doors. “I can’t do this,” I whisper.

“You can.”

“No.” I shake my head quickly. “I can’t. How do I not scream? Cry? Flip tables over when he walks in? How?”

Milo takes my face in his hands and releases a heavy breath through his nose. “You should do those things.”

“What?” I screech and grab his wrists, pulling them off. “What kind of advice is that?”

He shrugs. “It would make the evening news. Maybe you could even go viral,” Milo smirks. “Think of the footage. Crazy lady in Tampa climbs over pews to attack the suspect, only to be carried out in cuffs. It would be rather fitting, don’t you think?”

“Ass.” I can’t stop myself from laughing though.

“I bet Ava would love that.”

I cover my hand over my mouth to stop the giggling. “Yeah, she’d love her friends posting it and embarrassing her.”

“See, two birds with one stone.”

“Okay, so I should go in there, make a scene, and become internet famous?” I ask.

Milo taps his finger on his chin. “I would be chuffed. With you in jail, I’m the next logical choice to get my job back.”

I roll my eyes with a grin. “Well, anything to make life easier for you.”

I release a deep breath and push the door open. My eyes stay down as I make my way to the first row and take a seat. Milo sits beside me, completely casual and unaffected. I, on the other hand, feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin. I look around, taking a moment to see the room. I’ve been here a few times, but it’s as if I’m seeing it with new eyes.

The light oak wood covers the room with maroon accents. The judge’s seat is set high, showing his authority over the proceedings. We’re sitting on the right side of the courtroom, so I can sit behind the prosecution.

I don’t see anyone from Peter’s office and try not to let my worry set in because there’s no one yet on the defense side.

A hand touches my shoulder, and I jump. “Mrs. Bergen?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Rachel Harlow, the prosecutor on your husband’s trial,” she smiles. “Sorry to startle you, I wanted to introduce myself.”

I look at the woman no older than twenty-nine years old with questions swirling. “I don’t understand, where is Joshua? I thought the district attorney was prosecuting.”

She does the contrite lawyer look that is a mask to cover her disappointment. Peter invented that look. “He’s overseeing it, but considering the facts of the case, we’re very confident. There’s another associate counsel with me, so please don’t worry.”