Chapter 6 - The Last Threat
Bryce Whitmore's trial lasted nine days.
I testified on day three.
He stared at me the entire time.
I told the truth anyway.
His attorney tried to make me look ambitious.
"Isn't it true you received a significant promotion after this incident?"
"Yes."
"And became personally close to Mr. Mercer?"
"Yes."
"Financially beneficial, wouldn't you say?"
I looked toward the jury.
"My shoulder was dislocated because eight men thought my paycheck determined how much dignity I deserved."
The courtroom went silent.
"I'd gladly give back every dollar I've earned since then if I could also give back what they did."
No more questions.
Three days later, something happened.
A message appeared beneath my apartment door.
DROP THE CHARGES.
There were no charges for me to drop, but the meaning was obvious.
I called Jude.
He arrived in eleven minutes.
Not alone.
"You're staying at Mercer House."
"No."
"Audrey."
"I'm not hiding."
"This isn't negotiation."
I folded my arms.
He looked at my healed shoulder.
"Fine. Fold them. Still not negotiating."
I nearly smiled.
Then he saw the second line on the note.
NEXT TIME MERCER WON'T FIND YOU.
His expression changed.
"Pack."
I did.
That night, Daniel discovered the note had been delivered by a private investigator hired through an intermediary connected to Judge Whitmore's longtime fixer.
The evidence went directly to prosecutors.
By morning, the investigator was cooperating.
By afternoon, the fixer was too.
And by evening, Jude received a phone call.
Judge Harrison Whitmore wanted to meet.
"Don't," I said.
Jude buttoned his jacket.
"I have to."
"Why?"
"Because he's going to offer me something."
"How do you know?"
"Men like Harrison always think everything has a price."
The meeting happened in Jude's study.
I watched from the adjoining room.
Whitmore looked exhausted.
"I can make this disappear."
Jude poured himself a drink.
"Which part?"
"The trial."
"Not interested."
"Business regulations."
"No."
"Federal investigations."
Jude smiled.
"Getting warmer."
Whitmore stared.
"What do you want?"
Jude placed Audrey's threatening note on the desk.
The judge went pale.
"I had nothing to do with that."
"Then you won't mind prosecutors investigating."
Whitmore stood.
"You don't understand what you're doing."
Jude remained seated.
"No, Harrison."
He pointed toward the door.
"You don't understand what already happened."
The judge left.
The next morning, federal investigators announced a separate inquiry into potential obstruction connected to the case.
Bryce's protection collapsed.
His family's influence couldn't save him anymore.
That evening, I found Jude sitting alone in the ballroom.
The same room where everything had started.
"It's over," I said.
"Almost."
"You won."
"This wasn't a game."
"I know."
I sat beside him.
"Then why do you look miserable?"
He stared at the empty ballroom.
"Because I keep thinking about fourteen minutes."
"What?"
"You were inside that coatroom for fourteen minutes before I found you."
"Jude—"
"I was downstairs."
"You didn't know."
"I should have."
"You aren't responsible for everything that happens inside these walls."
His eyes met mine.
"I am responsible for you."
"No."
He frowned.
I moved closer.
"You don't own me."
"I didn't mean—"
"I know."
I took his hand.
"But you can care about me."
His fingers slowly closed around mine.
"I already do."
"Good."
"Audrey."
"What?"
"I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
His voice dropped.
"This."
I smiled.
"Neither do I."
Then I kissed him.
Slowly.
No ballroom audience.
No fear.
No debt between us.
Just a choice.
When we separated, Jude stared at me.
"Was that gratitude?"
"No."
"Good."
"Why?"
May you like
His hand gently touched my cheek.
"Because I'd like to do it again."
