I haven’t slept for shit after looking at the flash drive. She documented everything. The bruises on her skin had me balling my hands into fists. I was such a bastard to her at the office. It was shitty of her to leave me, but I never wished that kind of pain on her. Sure, I wanted her to hurt the way I did but what that bastard did to her—I want to kill him.

I’ve never been an angry person. I’m always the calm and collected one who thinks rationally.

But, a rage I’ve never felt before courses through my veins and I don’t know what to do about it. There’s nothing I can do but try to burn it off in my home gym. I run five miles on the treadmill, practically sprinting the whole time, and I still can’t get the pictures out of my head. I almost wish she hadn’t shown them to me. There’s no way I’ll ever trust her again, but I’ll still keep her safe. Get her away from that piece of shit.

She said he was in Vegas but what if he comes home early? What will he do once he finds out she’s filed for divorce?

It’s a crazy idea, but I want to bring her to my building.

He can’t get in without a code and we have great security. She’ll be safe here.

I don’t owe her anything. I know that, but I can’t look the other way. I can’t walk away when she needs me. She may have left me hanging, but that’s not my style. I still care about her as a person.

She sought me out for a reason. Maybe it was a last-effort cry for help. I’m a damn good attorney. I can get this fixed for her.

I can still guard her heart even though she didn’t guard mine.

I want to laugh when I see all that her father had left. He lost everything because he was an idiot. It should make me happy, but it doesn’t. I can’t revel in it because it’s Jenna’s livelihood.

I haven’t looked at her husband much yet, but I bet the fucker’s dirty. Something doesn’t sit right about the whole thing. The date of her marriage puts it a short amount of time after I left. There’s no way Jenna could’ve hidden another relationship. People surprise you, but there’s just no way—something happened.

I know Jenna loved me. I was too proud to look back, but I can’t help but think about what would’ve happened if I’d gone back for her. Would things have turned out differently?

What’s done is done. I can’t change that.

She wanted to explain at the office, but I don’t know if I want her to. What if she says things I don’t want to hear? What if I could’ve had her?

I flick off the lights in the gym and head for a shower, knowing I probably won’t sleep again tonight.

* * *

Days have passed.

I tried to call Jenna a few times and it keeps going to voicemail. I don’t want to leave a message in case her husband checks her phone. If her evidence is any indication, I wouldn’t put it past the dude. Abusive husbands are always controlling and do shit like that. I should’ve passed her case off like I said I would. It’s too personal.

But, I just—can’t.

I don’t know what to do. Do I drive out to her place to check on her? Pretend I need her to sign paperwork? I don’t want to tangle with her husband but I’m worried. What if he knows she was here and he did something to her?

I can’t sit here not knowing.

Knocking on Weston’s office door I let out a breath. He isn’t going to like this shit at all. I never let personal feelings get in the way of a case, but this is different.

It’s Jenna.

“Got a minute?”

“Sure. Come in.”

I take a seat across from him and just dive in head first.

“Remember the time I got drunk back in college and told you about the girl?”

“The one you were pussy-whipped over that left you behind? Yeah, how could I forget?”

I stare off at the wall. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Your life was a country song.” He laughs. “What about her?”

“She came in yesterday.”

“Damn.”

I sigh. “Yeah. Hadn’t seen her in thirteen years.”

“You okay?”

I should lie. I look weak as fuck right now. I can’t, though. Weston’s the only one of the assholes in the office I’d trust with this. If anyone understands, it’s him. Especially now that he’s settling down. “Honestly…” I blow out a breath and run a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. She’s petitioning for divorce. It’s bad.”

His eyes narrow. “And she sought you out for counsel?”

“Yeah.”

I lay out the story for him about the files she brought in.

“I don’t like it. Won’t end well for you. Telling you this as a friend and a colleague. You’re too invested emotionally. You’ll be tempted to step in and play hero. I don’t want you working it.”

“I can handle the shit.” It’s a lie. We both know it. Fucking Jenna. She has me lying to my best friend and partner.

He eyes me for a few seconds that feel like forever. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, so I won’t waste my breath. You didn’t come in here to ask, you came in here to apprise me of facts, and I appreciate that even if I think it’s stupid.”

“It’s not—”

“Don’t interrupt me. Anyone else I’d tell to fuck off right now. That says something about you. It’s your decision. You know it’s personal, but I trust your judgment. Keep me informed.”

“I need to check on her. She hasn’t answered my calls. I need to see her. I think I should move her into the empty apartment on my floor to keep her safe.”

He glares across the table. “Jesus, how bad did this woman fuck you up? Are you insane?”

“What?”

“She could be fine. Could just be another client. What are you going to do? Drive to her house? Kick the shit out of her husband? We’re not twenty-one anymore. Fuck. You need to grow up.”

“Of course I’m not going to go in swinging. I can make something up if he’s there.”

“This is just—fucking stupid. Are you listening to yourself?”

I rub my face with my palms and stare right back at him. “I have to do this. I need to know she’s not hurt.”

“Fucking hell.” He stands up and starts pacing. “Did you stop to think maybe she changed her mind. It’s not uncommon. She’s a battered woman. A lot of them never have the courage to leave.”

“Even more reason for me to go.”

“Oh, bullshit. You’re not a professional at helping abused women. You can’t force help on someone like that. They have to want it.”

“She filed for divorce.”

“And if she did it willingly, she’ll be in touch.”

“I’ll talk to her. Fuck, I’ll get Brooke to talk to her. She deals with that stuff.”

“You’re not bringing my wife into this shit. If you need to see her go do it, but man—you can’t put your career on the line for her. She dumped you. Remember? You just saw her once, for the first time in thirteen years. You wouldn’t do this for another client without all the information up front.”

I know that shit. I don’t need fucking reminders. Maybe I’m being an idiot, but I’ll never forgive myself if something is wrong.

I should’ve already gone. I won’t make that mistake a second time.