Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(14)

“Can be,” I said. “Depends on the lawyer.”

As he had when we were standing in line, Cory looked as if he were about to say something more but changed his mind.

“Do you…need a lawyer?” I ventured cautiously. “I mean…when we get out?”

He stared straight ahead for a moment and then looked back at me. “I’m good.”

We said nothing more, and this time the silence stretched.

I leaned back against the wall and half-dozed, turning our conversation over and over in my mind, like clothes in a dryer. As I drifted in that strange twilight between awake and asleep, I imagined a courtroom in which Cory Bishop was the David going up against an insubstantial Goliath, and I was there, briefcase in hand, ready to go to battle.

Who do you fight for?

With shame burning my cheeks, I heard myself say, I don’t know.





Chapter Six


Cory



Of all the damn days…

I sighed and leaned against the wall, trying not to think of all the ways this robbery was screwing me over. No sense in worrying about what I couldn’t fix, but I’d have a helluva mess to clean up when we go out.

So what else is new?

I brushed that aside. If Pops heard me say something like that—and still had his wits about him—he’d smack me upside the head for feeling sorry for myself. And he’d be right. Shit happened, and we just had to deal with it. Even being held hostage in a bank robbery wouldn’t let me off the hook in his book. I knew what he would say if he were here. I could hear his voice, hard, like granite, “You gotta take care of these people so when you get out, you can live with yourself.”

I nodded, and tried to think of something else. Something good.

Callie.

I smiled automatically when I thought of her. Like a reflex. I wondered what she was doing right then. Did she know about the robbery yet? I hoped not. She’d be scared and there was no way to tell her I was okay. My smile slipped away.

Keep these people safe, get out, get back to Callie.

With a goal in mind, I felt a bit better. I looked down at the woman dozing against my shoulder and my smile returned.

Alexandra Gardener.

Christ, she was beautiful. Stunning. I admit, inappropriate thoughts had flooded my brain when I first saw her. But she was one of those Beverly Hills-type professionals: career-driven, rich, meticulous. I’d lived in LA all my life and knew the type well.

But Alex surprised me with our small talk in line—before the monster squad busted in the door to ruin our day—and again with her speech to calm the group down. She wasn’t stuck-up or standoffish. Smart. Funny. And those eyes…Like a summer sky on a cloudless day.

I wasn’t stupid enough—or deluded enough—to think anything was going to come of it if we survived this mess. Her shoes probably cost more than my car payment.

But there was a spark in her, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. She projected a tough exterior, but it was like a shield. Shark Lady, they called her, and I guess she was okay with that. Made her dad proud. That was something I could appreciate. It was something I’d strived for my entire life. But sharks conjured images of eyes rolling to dead black, and rows of jagged teeth.

Alex reminded me of some Irish warrior goddess—all red hair and fierceness. She was probably a sight to see in the courtroom. I bet she’d make hash out of whatever two-bit ambulance–chaser Georgia had hired against me. But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that a lawyer of Alex’s caliber was far out of my price range—every lawyer was out of my price range, even two-bit ambulance chasers. So when Alex asked me if I needed one, I didn’t even bother.

And tough as she was, I felt a strange, almost primal desire to protect her. It was probably nothing. The situation was seriously f*cked, and that guy, Frankie, made my skin itch. I didn’t like how he looked at me, but I could deal with that. It was how he looked at Alex that made me want to put my fist through his mask. I’d have to watch out for her. For all of them.

“I have to take a leak,” Roy said.

Carol snorted. “Nice manners.”

“I do too,” Tanya whispered. “Use the restroom, I mean.”

I was in the same boat. Hours had passed since we’d been locked in the meeting room without the first clue about what was happening between the cops and robbers.

I glanced around the room. “Anyone else?”

Murmured assents or nods.

I started to get to my feet when I felt Alex’s hand on my arm, gently holding me back.

“Hey,” she said. “Be careful.”

Her face was soft now, free of the stiffness that had been there as we talked about her work. I smiled at her in what I hoped was a reassuring manner.

I got to my feet and slowly approached the window in the wall. I kept to the side, giving Frankie a chance to see me in his peripheral vision, but the twitchy bastard didn’t turn. I knocked lightly on the glass and then flinched—everyone in the room flinched—as Frankie spun around, his face twisted in fear and fury. He had pushed the monster mask up onto his greasy hair revealing a face pocked with scars and emaciated. Drugs, probably. Awesome. A junky with an AR-15.

I fell back as Frankie slammed opened the door, and screams erupted as he leveled his weapon’s muzzle at me. My stomach clenched and my balls tried to crawl up into my guts. It only took the slightest touch to rattle off a dozen rounds with one of those things and he was jumpy as hell. This was it. I was going to die.