CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Brooke shifted gears and moved straight into professional mode, it threw me for a loop. I'd never seen a woman do that before. I was used to being the one in control – the one who could get my physical needs met and then shift back to business with no trouble whatsoever. As I watched her, I realized I was watching the female version of myself, and it made me feel extremely exposed.
As we got down to business, she started probing the recesses of my memory and trying to pull together a timeline that would exonerate me. The problem I kept running up against was that in order to give her all the information she needed, I would have to expose the seedy side of my dealings. I resisted telling Brooke about the drugs because I didn't want her to change her opinion of me. She believed me to be an upstanding club owner and someone who had been wrongly accused of murder. If I told her about the drugs and everything else that went with it, she'd look at me through different eyes, and it would cast a shadow of doubt over the defense she was constructing.
"Dax, you need to come clean," she said as she scribbled on a legal pad.
"Huh?"
"You need to come clean with me," she repeated. "You have attorney-client privilege, so you don't have to worry about anything leaking out or being discovered. We'll work through it together, but you have to tell me the truth."
"I am," I said as I ran a hand through my hair and stroked my chin.
"No, you're not," she said as she looked at me. "You're not telling me the whole truth, and I'm going to tell you right now that if you don't tell me the truth, it will only hurt you in the end. I will launch a strong legal defense, but if I'm blindsided by things that I don't know, then it will only make you look guilty – and piss me off."
I sat silently thinking about how to tell her everything. If I spilled it all, I might lose her, but if I didn't, I might go to prison for a crime I didn't commit and I'd lose her. It was a no-win situation that I couldn't see my way out of without telling her the truth.
"Look, I’ll believe you," she said softly. "No matter what you say, I believe that you didn't kill Lydia Banks."
"You just don't understand," I said shaking my head. It suddenly dawned on me that if I told Brooke everything, I'd also be putting her at risk with the other gangs. If they thought my lawyer knew it all, they might kill her to eliminate the chance of a leak. Like Lydia. Damn. "It's complicated."
"It's not that complicated," she said shaking her head. "Start somewhere and tell me what's going on. I need to know this stuff so that I can figure out how to approach it in court."
"Brooke, you really don't get it," I said shaking my head. "If I tell you everything, then I'm putting you at risk."
"And, if you don't tell me everything, then you're putting yourself at risk!" she shouted. I could tell that she was getting frustrated with me and while I wanted to tell her what she was demanding to know, I wanted to protect her more.
"This is absolutely ridiculous!" she shouted as she threw her pen down on the pad of paper and stood up. "I'm so sick of everyone thinking I'm some kind of fragile flower who can't handle things! You are all pissing me off!"
"Brooke?" I said unsure where this tirade was coming from. "Listen to me, this isn't about you not being strong enough. This is about real danger. This is about me telling you things that will put you at risk."
"And you don't think I already am at risk simply by taking your case?" she challenged angrily. "I'm a lawyer, dammit! This is what I do for a living! You need to let me do my job!"
"I'm trying," I said as I hid a smile. She was trying to go big dog on me, and while I appreciated the attempt, I also knew that I couldn't just dump the information on her and then leave her to deal with it. I needed to find a way to ensure that once I told her about my business, she'd be safe as she went about investigating my story and constructing a solid defense.
"Why are you smiling?"
"You're kind of cute when you're mad," I told her. She stopped pacing the space behind her desk and turned her laser-like stare in my direction.
"That's it," she said narrowing her eyes. "If you can't treat me like the professional I am, then you need to find yourself another lawyer, buster."
"Oh, Brooke, don't work yourself up into a frenzy," I chuckled.
"Do not treat me like a child, Mr. Malone," she warned. "I won't stand for it. I'm your lawyer and you need to treat me like you would any other lawyer you'd hire to represent you. I'm sorry our sex got in the way of our professional relationship."
"Brooke, don't be mad," I said as I looked up at her wondering where this stubborn streak had come from. "C'mon, we're good together. You know it, and so do I."
"I'm a lawyer, Mr. Malone," she repeated and I could see that any further attempts to try and get her to lighten up would be met with extreme resistance and maybe even worse. "Treat me like a damn lawyer."
"Fine, you want to be treated like my lawyer, I'll treat you like my damn lawyer!" I yelled as my cell phone began frantically buzzing in my pocket. I reached down and pulled it out and glanced at the screen. On it was a message from Kesha that simply said: 911. 911. Club. 911. 911. I knew I couldn't ignore it. "Brooke, I have to go. There's a problem at the club and it's an emergency."
"Sure, sure," she said waving me off. "Go take care of it. We'll talk about your case in our meeting at noon."
"Brooke, please just wait to hear what I have to say," I said as I turned toward the door.
"That's all I ever asked," she said as she looked up at me from behind her desk. "Just tell me what's going on."
I nodded and then turned and quickly walked down the hall and out the door of Lewis, Lee, and Raines, LLC. I hoped that I'd be able to be back on time for the meeting.