A Need So Beautiful (A Need So Beautiful #1)(44)
Author: Suzanne Young

“In three weeks,” I say quietly, unable to look up, “you’ll get a call about a client. His name is Phillip. You’ll be offered a lot of money to defend him.” Tears start rolling down my cheeks. I’m betraying Harlin. I don’t want to say another stupid word. I refuse to help the man who killed Harlin’s father. How could the Need put me in this situation?

I start to sob, almost unable to continue, but then I hear the message and pause. My eyes widen as I look up at Kendra. “You can’t take the case,” I murmur. “Even though it’s going to upset the partners at the firm.”

“What?” The cutting sound of Kendra’s voice tells me she’d never upset the partners, not when she’s jockeying for a position to join them.

A calm stretches over me and I give into the light, letting it form my words. I’m so tired now, but also relieved. I say what I’m supposed to. “You’ve helped many people go free, a few deservedly. But this is different. This man, Phillip Windmere, not only murdered a cop, he also killed a woman a few months back.” I pause. “Like Madeline.”

I know about a case Kendra won fourteen years ago. She had to defend a man who murdered a young woman named Madeline Strait. The man was so clearly guilty, but in the end, Kendra did her job. A mis-served warrant let that monster go free, and before he walked out of the courtroom, he smiled at Kendra and thanked her.

Left in the courtroom with Madeline’s weeping parents, Kendra has been consumed with guilt ever since. She wishes she had never taken that case.

“Madeline,” she repeats softly, obviously flooded with the same memories.

I nod, watching the light around Kendra glow and darken with her sadness. I reach out to put my palm around her wrist. “If Phillip Windmere gets off for this murder, he will kill again. In a few months time he’ll break into a home for drug money and discover a sleeping family there. Children, Kendra. You can’t let that happen. If you defend him, he’ll go free. You have to walk away from the case.”

“The partners . . .” she answers, but it’s robotic, like maybe she knows what she should do.

“It’s right,” I whisper. “You have to do what’s right. Even if it means losing the partnership bid. You’ll save lives.”

Just then the heat becomes intense and I feel my hand burn into her skin. She yanks away, but the colors of my vision are slowly returning. Her eyes are glassy, and I know she’s listening.

I bite down on my lip to keep from bursting into tears. The man who killed Harlin’s dad will pay. No one else will ever be hurt by him.

“It’ll be for Maddy,” Kendra murmurs to herself, staring past me. And in my head I can see that tonight she’ll go home and rethink things. She’ll lose the possibility of her partnership, but she’ll go to a new firm. And eventually . . . she’ll run it.

I don’t even care about the euphoria at this point, in fact, I’m not even sure it’s there. I’m just so overcome with gratitude; I slump down in the hard chair, cover my face and cry.

The Need has helped someone I love. This one time, it gave me a chance to help Harlin. And I can feel that Phillip Windmere will spend the rest of his life in jail.

A few minutes go by, and when I look up, Kendra is gone. She didn’t thank me or say good-bye. I know she probably didn’t even recognize me as she left. I take a deep breath and stand up, my body still shaking. No one so much as glances at me as I walk out, and for a second, I worry that I’m invisible. But I bump into an old man and he curses at me, reaffirming I’m still here.

When I get out into the cool fall air, I wipe at the tears on my cheeks. I notice my hands, the skin now missing from both of my palms. But it was worth it for Harlin, I tell myself as I go down the front steps, heading to the bus stop. Because now no matter what happens to me, things will be better for Harlin after this.

For once, I consider that it might be okay—my destiny. It might be okay if I go into the light. For so many weeks, I’ve fought the Need. And now . . . I’m just so very tired.

Chapter 20

A s I ride the bus toward home, I know that I have to keep what I learned from Harlin. If he knew who killed his dad, he might go after Phillip before the police could. He might do something that could ruin his life. I can’t take that chance.

I take my gloves from my coat pocket and slip them on. Then I check my phone and there’s nothing. No missed calls, no messages. I send Sarah a text and ask if she’s okay. And I suddenly worry that I haven’t heard from Harlin. What if he’s forgotten me?

The bus jerks, startling me, and then slows at a stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I see something. I turn quickly and my heart stops. Onika is sitting on the bench with her black boots crossed one over the other and her mouth pulled into a beautiful smile. Our eyes lock and she offers a pageant wave. The bus starts moving again, and I put my hand against the glass. I have to talk to her.

“Stop the bus!” I yell, jumping up. The driver looks over her shoulder at me and I hear a few murmurs from disgruntled riders. The bus slows just past the stop. I run down the aisle toward the open doors, my adrenaline pumping. I push the phone into my pocket as I hurry down the stairs.

“Next time I ain’t stopping,” the driver calls after me.

I pause on the curb as the bus pulls away and stare at Onika sitting calmly on the metal bench. The street is dead and isolated, and I’m immediately struck with nausea and clutch my stomach. Onika shrugs and the pain fades, leaving me warm all over.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” she says.

“Monroe told me all about you. What you really are. So why are you still following me?” I walk toward her and she holds up her palms innocently.

“You haven’t made your choice yet. Not until that weak body of yours finally gives in. Until then, it’s still business as usual for me.”

“I’m not falling for it.”

“No? Why? Because Monroe Swift is such an honorable man? He’d never lie to you.” She grins. “Have you noticed the pills he keeps in his coat pocket?”

“What? No.”

“Think. The Vicodin. Percocet. Occasionally a muscle relaxer. Why do you think he’s taking so many pills, Charlotte? Seems unprofessional.”

And I do remember seeing Monroe pop a pill or two over the years, but I’d never really thought it odd. We were in a clinic and I just . . . didn’t think about it.