Free Shattered Trust (Shattered #2) by Magda Alexander

should have asked for her ID.”
    “He did.”
    I come up on my elbows. “You mean she has a fake ID?”
    “Apparently. You’ll have to take it away from her. She can’t be allowed to use it. Aside from the fact it’s illegal, she can get into a world of trouble flashing false identification.”
    I plop back on the bed. “God. I was never this much work.”
    “When you visit the doctor with her, you might want him to draw blood and do a pregnancy test.”
    “You don’t think—oh, God, what if she is?”
    “Don’t jump off that bridge unless you have to, sweetheart. If she is, we’ll handle it. Together.”
    In future days, I would look back fondly on this night. Because it took no time at all for things to turn bad.

Chapter 9
    Trenton
    Monday morning comes too soon. Much as I hate to leave her, I must. Duty calls me back to the law firm. As we stand in the foyer, I hold her close to me. “I have to go to the office.”
    “I know.” The corners of her lips twist. Perhaps she resents our separation as much as I do.
    Needing to touch her, I brush the back of my hand across the satin softness of her cheek. “How will you spend your day?”
    She curls her arms around my waist, rests her head against my chest. “Studying for the bar exam, after I make a doctor’s appointment for Madison. Hopefully, I can get one for tomorrow or Wednesday at the latest.”
    “Do you have a lead on a doctor?”
    “Yes. I know someone whose sister is a doctor at Georgetown University Hospital. I’ll start there.”
    “If you need help, let me know.”
    She gets that mulish look on her face. “I can handle this, Steele.”
    I kiss her lips, squeeze her arm. “I know you can. Don’t study too hard for the exam. Chances are you already know most of it and only need a refresher course.”
    “I never studied domestic law, and that’s one of the topics we’ll be tested on.”
    “You want me to put you in touch with someone from the Virginia bar?”
    “No, I can do this.”
    The urge to help her burns right through me. But she resents my offer, so I dial it back. “Okay.”
    During the drive to the office, I think about the best approach to take with her. Maybe the best thing I can do is just be there for her instead of constantly offering my assistance. I laugh. Easier said than done given my type A personality. I crank up the hip-hop station, hoping to drown out the control freak in me.
    When I get to the office, a message waits for me. A management meeting is scheduled for nine o’clock, and my presence is requested. Since Mitch’s arraignment is tomorrow, I fill in the time by dialing the Loudoun County Commonwealth’s Attorney’s office to find who’s been assigned to Mitch’s case. The receptionist takes down my information and promises that someone will get back to me.
    When nine o’clock rolls around I make my way up the elevator to the west conference room on the ninth floor. With its view of the mall and the monuments, the room is one of the loveliest in the firm and just big enough for the ten or so members of the management committee. When I step in, a sense of foreboding rolls over me. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but my nemesis, Dick Slayton, is seated at the head of the table, which tells me nothing good can come from this.
    “Good morning,” I say.
    A few of the partners mumble greetings in return, but no one meets my gaze, not even Joss Stanton.
    “Please, Trenton, take a seat,” Dick says.
    Unbuttoning my jacket, I sit near the foot of the table, as far away from Slayton as I can get.
    Dick clears his throat and combs back the little hair he’s got left on his head. “We understand Holden’s death was ruled a murder and not a suicide.”
    “That’s right.” I relax into the seat. Maybe all they want is a sit report from me. Understandable given the circumstances.
    “And Mitchell Brooks has been arrested in connection with the murder and asked you to represent him.”
    I nod.