Page 20 of Bitter Truth
“I interrupted a meth head robbing a pharmacy.”
His expression is unreadable as he gives me a long look. Finally, he says, “It’s like you’re a magnet for trouble.”
“You’re not the first person to tell me that. Now, I want to hear about what Jake did. He yelled at an intern?”
Julian presses his lips together in a way that suggests he wishes he hadn’t said anything. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was just upset because you got hurt.”
“But Jake yelled?”
Julian nods.
“What did the intern do wrong? You said Jake had them working on something that involved a different form of law. What kind?”
“It’s nothing.”
“You came here because you thought it was. So tell me.”
He looks away, frowning as he says, “It was the contract for his mother’s new counsel.”
“He’s hiring her a new lawyer?”
“Yes. A whole team of them, actually.”
I don’t know what to say. Or how to feel. All the times Jake said he wasn’t upset about his mom, that she deserves what she gets—were those all lies? My stomach gurgles as I shift on the blanket, trying to ease the sharp sensation of having had a knife lodged between my shoulder blades.
“I was surprised. I mean, not just because of you two, but because after he spoke with his dad—”
“Wait. He spoke with his father?”
“Yes.”
“And told you about it?”
But not me. That makes even less sense than hiring a defense team for his mom. He hates his dad. Refuses to be in the same room with him. The one time I suggested he give the man a chance to make amends, he shot the idea down so fast I practically got whiplash.
It’s almost like Julian and I are talking about two different people. Or maybe just the two different faces the same man shows each of us. The thought makes me feel ill.
“Do you know what his dad told him?”
“To forget about his mom. That he was better off without her.”
And yet, that’s not what Jake decided to do, is it?
“Is that thing safe?” Julian asks.
I follow his finger to where he’s pointing at the raccoon, the kit walking across the blanket toward me. This morning, after the vet examined her—as I suspected, the sanctuary’s newest rescue is a girl—I brought her out here, under a tree in the paddock to play and get some fresh air. Though she’d climbed up onto a low bough to sleep, it appears that naptime is over.
The more time I spend with her, the more convinced I become that she’s somebody’s pet. The way she climbsinto my lap now uninvited, and curls up, making herself comfortable, further supports this theory.
“I think so. But I’ve only known her for about twenty-four hours.”
“And you aren’t… worried?”
Not about the raccoon, but I can’t say the same about Jake.
“She’s fine. She won’t touch you.”
I stroke the raccoon’s back absently, frowning into space. What’s Jake’s goal? What does he intend to achieve by hiring a new defense team for his mother? The answer seems obvious, and yet, hadn’t he told me just last night that prison was where she needs to be? It doesn’t make any sense.
