Emmy

It's all about posture. My friend Shannon enthusiastically explained to me. Confidence and posture. From the outskirts of the grand ballroom, I slip into the shadows, trembling in my sharp black stilettos. There, I recall the rest of her words and make the needed adjustments.

Shoulders back. Head up. Work the core. Now Slay.

I break out into the honey glow room, right as I feel the music shift and vibrate beneath my feet. I know that no one else feels it like I do. They don't notice the subtle change in the floor like me. They don't have to. They hear the music change. I feel it. Soft, with a rhythm that flows like delicate waves in the sea.

All around me, people pair up with bodies that long to remove the clothes between them. A few men hesitate as I glide by. I have their attention, but they don't have mine. I'm looking for one man. One opportunity. And One set of deep blue eyes.
I've been dreaming of these eyes. Yearning for the warmth and the promise they held. In the moment I saw them I found my sanctuary. A shelter from all the pain I'd experienced in life. In the middle of the floor I meet them faster than I intend.

My entire body halts in the long royal purple dress flowing from my curves. He rakes his gaze up and down my frame, ignoring the woman whispering in his ear. I can feel him beckoning me forward. The intensity of his stare boils my nerves to the surface. My heart tries to burst through the tight bodice of the gown. But I hold it together.

This has to look like it happened by chance. If I am caught, no one can suspect that I sought him out. Calmly, I pick up the side of my dress and offer him an innocent smile. He sets his crystal liqueur glass on a passing server tray, with little regard for whether or not it makes it there. Then, he starts moving toward me. I lower my gaze and make him chase me deeper into the crowd.

Bodies enchantingly sway all around us. Fear blooms in my chest. I glance over my shoulder praying that he is indeed following me. His face is there eager and determined. I nearly stop. I get so caught up in his eyes that I forget how handsome he is. A tall Grecian statue that the Lord breathed life into. And he is there reaching out for my arm to catch me, like I'm his Athena. A blush warms my cheeks and I quicken my pace.

But I'm not fast enough. We near the rim just when his large hand claps over my forearm. I turn to him. He pulls me forward so that we touch our bodies together on the floor. I study the way his eyes roam my face. Like, I've been trained to do, I look for every nuance in the way his handsome face moves and I read the story his eyes tell, all while trying not to get swept up in their cool blue undertones.

His nose twitches slightly which is an indication that his mouth is about to move. I drop my gaze there.

"It's you," his lips say. "How?"

I take a deep breath, wishing I had words for him. It would be a lot easier. But nothing comes easy for me. Once this is done it's done. No turning back. I pull out a small envelop from my sparkling black clutch and thrust it into his hands.

My fingers brush against his and when they do electricity passes between us. I peer up at him, and I go back in time. To the moment in the library when I first felt him there. God the way he looked at me...the way his eyes alone made me feel. He elicits that terrible feeling in me. Hope. And that's why I'm here because I know who he is now and it giving me hope.

The corner of his mouth twitches and I read the words falling from his lips.

"I'm Ben."

I smile. I've been imagining what his lips will look like he says his name. With the image in my mind I turn to leave. He captures me gently by the crook of my elbow and pulls me back.

"Wait," he pleads. "You keep looking at my lips. You're deaf right?"

I nod. He tucks the envelop into his breast pocket and fumbles with his hands. My heart gives a twist in my chest as I watch him try to switch to ASL. His hands move slow and hesitantly. The equivalent to anyone first trying to learn a new language.

"Tell me your name."

I want to tell him more than my name. But there just simply isn't enough time. I nod to the envelop. All the answers to his questions are there. Once he reads it, my life will be in his hands and if he just wants to, he can free me from my hell. He can save me.
I reach out for him and walk my fingers down the length of his long forearm. Beneath his heavy stare I take his hand in mine. With my index finger I press four letters into the center of his palm. Then I sign it.

"Emmy"

"Emmy," he breathes my name. "You have no idea, what not knowing it has done to me these past few months."

I blush and my eyes go downcast for a moment. Ben grips my chin softly and draws me forward. He's so close now that his warm breath fans over my lips.

"Emmy,"

I watch my name one more time before taking a chance and pushing my mouth the rest of the way to his.

We kiss softly at first, finding a rhythm unique to us. I feel him slide his arm around my waist and I melt into him. The metal bolts that I securely placed around the cage of my heart, shake and yield slightly. I stifle my moan as they rattle.

Danger.

They say that the loss of one sense heightens the others. Long before the chills seep down my spine, and before my body goes rigid. I know. Danger.

From the corner of my eye, I see Dwayne, my bodyguard feverishly scanning the room. The agitated tilt of his head says a lot. He's pissed that I managed to slip away from him and he intends on making me pay for it. That is if, my uncle doesn't get to me first.

Ben's curious gaze watches me intently. He has no idea how much I wish he wasn't who he was and that I wasn't me. I would give anything to be anyone else for him. Would he do it for me? Or have I been living in a fantasy all these months?

Danger

I pull away as my internal alarm signals to me even louder than before. I have to get out of here and I have to get away from Ben. I meet his eyes apologetically, tapping my fingernail to the envelop. To my right Marco, my other bodyguard is closing in. On my left is Dwayne. They haven't seen me yet. If they had, Ben would be beaten into a bloody pulp by now.

There is so much to say but no more time. So, I place my right hand flat over the center of my chest and move it in a clockwise motion. Please.
He stares on as I place my palm on over his beating heart remind him of the envelop in his breast pocket.

Remembering, he reaches for it. His head drops in his search. I disappear back into the crowd just as Dwayne reaches the spot I was standing in seconds ago.

Ben

(Three Months ago)

Seventy-eight hours. My alarm vibrates the smartwatch on my wrist and I shut my laptop down. Correction Seventy-nine hours. A seventy-nine hour work week. It's ridiculous but that's my life. I am the best criminal defense attorney in New York. That fact comes with a long list of benefits and even longer list of frustrating tasks.

"So, are we done here?" My business partner, Owen yawns.

I nod, checking my phone for an onslaught of notifications that my assistant Leia, has just added to my calendar. I peer over at her and she chuckles.

"Not my fault, you overbook."

"Both of you get out of here before they lock us in." I joke half-heartedly.
We've had to temporarily move out our Manhattan law firm during it's renovation. Owen wanted to hunker down in a hotel room, but I opted for renting out one of the private conference rooms, in the New York Library. It's costing an arm and a leg but it's worth it to me.

I've been coming to this library since I was eight years old. My nanny brought me here hoping I'd gain a better world perspective than the one my father provided. She wanted me and my brother to value other things than the weight our wealthy name carried.

For Alec, my older brother, the library was a boring place. For me, it was a gateway to worlds my father had no control of. Naturally, I fell in love with it right away.

"Any plans this weekend?" Owen asks, tucking his folders into his briefcase.
I shrug. "Depends on how this case ends tomorrow."

"What are you talking about?" he raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "This is a sure thing."

"Nothing is a sure thing." I tell him straightforwardly. "Nothing."
Leia tucks two pencils in her dark brown hair and gives me a reassuring smile. "We know that, Ben. I think Owen is just being optimistic."

I touch her small shoulder and give it a squeeze. Optimism. You don't win trials on it. I have a young man facing life in prison for a crime he couldn't have committed if he were Houdini himself. On the other side of that coin, is a dead young woman, a family stricken with grief and an overzealous prosecutor up for re-election. Optimism isn't going to save this man from a wrongful conviction. The evidence I've presented, the way I've ripped through every supposed key witness and a closing argument that will force them to decide based on the facts of the case instead of emotion.

"Go home. I'll see you both bright and early on Monday."

They both exchange looks that I purposely ignore as I put away my things

.
"When this trial is over", Owen says giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You need to take some time off. This shit weighs on you man and it shouldn't."

My partner means well. And a part of me knows that he is right. Every case weighs on me. Every trial and verdict keeps me up at night. It's not just because I like to win. But more importantly I like to see innocent men walk free.

Leia snakes her arm around Owen's and I pretend to not notice that too. Although I've known for months about their relationship, they still haven't openly admitted it to me. I don't blame them. I have a strict policy. You shouldn't mix business with pleasure. It's like willingly walking into minefield with your heart in your hand.

I decide to linger in the library for a bit as I pound down the marble stairs. There is still a half hour left before close. The three-week trial has taken it's toll on me and before I head home I need to have a clear head. If I don't, bad things could happen.
Know your triggers. I tell myself, thinking of the weighted medallion in my breast pocket. Stress is a big one. I've worked the last year to not go down a path that ends with a drink in my hand. And I continue to work on it as I make a detour toward the author exhibitions.

When I turn into the gallery, there is a woman pouring over photographs of Maya Angelou. She seems engrossed in the images as waves of her dark curly hair fall down the curve of her caramel creme shoulders. I can't see her face, but something moves me closer. Although I don't make a sound, she senses my presence and I stop as her gaze meets mine.

You go through life faced with many warnings. Money doesn't buy happiness. Drugs will kill you and don't talk to strangers. No one ever says what the right pair of eyes will do to you. How they'll grip your soul and make you pray to never set it free. Sugar brown, intelligent eyes, set in a soft diamond shape face. I'll never forget them.

When I regain the ability to speak a big burly man steps into view. Without so much as glance around the room he pulls her by the arm and practically drags her out. I jump off my toes like a well-trained sprinter, shouting after them.

"Hey!" I shout.

My heart hammers against my chest as I try to follow them. But before I can turn the corner, I feel a heavy hand slapping me against my back.

"There you are, Ben." Owen laughs.

"Leia didn't feel right leaving you alone and sent me back in to take out you for dinner."

Shaking his arm off I reply firmly. "I'm not hungry."

"Well humor me man, she's worried about you."

"I'm fine."

I beat down the marble stairs onto the first floor searching frantically for her. But she's like a ghost. There isn't a trace of her anywhere.

"Man, what's gotten into you." Owen huffs, clutching his chest. "You're running around the damn place like a mad man."
"The girl."
"What girl?"
"She was there--with me...a-at the Maya Angelou exhibition."
"Benedict."
Owen uses my full name unless he's going to tell me something I don't want to hear. And in those times, he's all business.
"There wasn't anyone else there. Just you."
Fuck. I run my hands over my face. Had I imagined her? Was this trial really taking this hard of a toll on me.

Present

Three months ago, I thought I just needed sleep. I thought I had lost my mind. I went back to the library for a month to find her and came up empty handed. And then tonight, she strolled out onto the ballroom floor, wearing a gown that hugged her shape and made her look like a goddess. I went after her like a moth to a flame. I touched her and she is real. A dream turned into a reality.

Emmy. I can still feel her finger pressing the letters of her name into my palm. I tuck the envelope into my breast pocket, and slip by the same burly man, I'd seen with her at the library. Then I commit a party foul and leave the elegant affair early, with the hope that this envelope will lead me to Emmy again.

Chapter 2.

Emmy

"I told you to stay in my sight at all times!" Dwayne roars in my face, thrusting me against the wall he has me cornered in.
He found me waiting in the hall and dragged me to an empty sitting room in the estate. I'd managed to talk to Ben without being seen but the diversion Alisha set up for me didn't last as long as we'd planned.

"Let me make one thing clear.""

I turn my chin down to avoid the spit flying from Dwayne's yellow teeth. My gag reflex is alerted by his harsh and gritty breath. If I have take any more of him, I'll throw up all over his leather jacket. Suddenly I don't have a choice. He grips my neck between his oversized ape hand and forces me to face him.

"Look at me, you little bitch!" he points to his dried lips.

My stomach churns. Only the overpowering pain in my throat is keeping my stomach contents down now.

"You pull that shit again and I will make you pay." His eyes take a disgusting stroll down the length of my body. "In more ways than one. In fact," He says dragging up the long chiffon material. "Maybe that's just what you need."

I start kicking at him right away, using my free hands to claw at his face. But in comparison to the men he has had to kill, I'm nothing to disarm. He hits my head hard against the wall and it sends me into a daze. I drop my hands and it's just what he needs to secure them both over my head.

I don't hear the sound of another man entering or the gun being cocked. What I feel is the overwhelming wave of relief as Dwayne's bad breath is no longer suffocating me. He releases his hold on me and I slid down the wall. When my watery eyes focus, I see Gray pointing the barrel of his gun into Dwayne's temple.

They're talking quickly. Too fast for my oxygen deprived brain to keep up. Still, I recognize the fear in Dwayne's bulgy eyes. He realizes that he is seconds away from having his brain splattered against the velvet curtains around us. He takes the hint and backs away with his arms up. It's not until Gray is sure that he is gone that he turns his attention back to me.

"Are you okay?" I sign with trembling hands.

Gray frowns at me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He doesn't buy it. He is naturally intuitive and knows me well. It makes keeping things from him hard as hell. Gray isn't deaf, but he is hard of hearing. My uncle hired him a few years ago as my bodyguard because he knew ASL and he had the training of a former UFC fighter. It was easier for my Uncle to hire him rather than take the time to learn to communicate with me.

If I'm honest, hiring Gray is the one and only good thing my uncle has ever done for me. Unlike everyone else, Gray treats me like a human being instead of one of my uncle's tools. He is like a brother to me and he cares for me the way I care about him. No matter what happens tomorrow, I'm going to miss him.

"Don't cry." Gray says once he has helped me to feet.

I wipe the tears away quickly. I didn't realize they had started. With a deep breath, I give him weary smile.

"Where is Alisha?"

That question causes the frown to completely disappear. His light green eyes light up and I know his response is exactly what I am hoping for.

"Safe."

My heart warms and tightens. My cousin is my best friend. I wouldn't be able to go through with tomorrow if I thought for one moment things would backfire and put her in harms way. She's the only real family that I have and I want her to be safe when I'm gone. But I don't have to worry too much about that. Gray wouldn't let a mosquito hurt Alisha.

"Did you tell her?" I ask hopeful that before he took her to the safe spot, he told her the truth.

A slight blush tinges his cheeks and just like that, this big muscle man takes on an almost boyish charm. He's been in love with Alisha since he came here but they've only just recently acknowledged their feelings for one another. My uncle keeps a tight ship. He would have Gray killed if he found out. So, they've had to be very careful these past few months.

He runs his hand through this dark chestnut hair and shakes his head. "When the time is right. I will. Love takes time."

Who knew that the quiet enforcer could be so wise, when slipping his gun back into his waistband?

I look over my shoulder and down the hall as we make our way out. WhenI first saw Ben in the library, I didn't know who he was. He didn' have NYC's best criminal defense attorney written on his forehead. It wasn't until Alisha and I were doing some research on the internet that I realized the very same man, I'd been thinking about since the day I saw him would be the same man I would need to get me away from my family.

So, I took a chance. I wrote the letter and laid things out. I won't allow my feelings to get the best of me. If he takes my case, I'll keep a clear head. I just pray he won't look at my name and dismiss me like so many others have. I hope Ben will take a chance on me.

Ben

She is a god damn Chapman. Fuck. I let that thought resonate in my mind for the five hundredth time and it still doesn't make me any less sick. The Chapmans own nearly all of Manhattan. They're old money, with ties that reach in every borough of New York. They're known as a whole to be ruthless, unforgiving and deadly. Words, I would never use to describe Emmy.

I've passed on every case even remotely connected to the Chapmans. The money would have been substantial but that doesn't matter to me. I use my talents for those I believe are truly innocent. People, who without a proper representation, would get mauled through the system or made an example of simply because of the color of their skin. That's who I defend. Not Chapmans. If they're involved, they're guilty.
I sit back in my unfinished home office and reread the letter, hoping to find some clarity in her words.

Ben,
Hi.
We never got that far, that day in library so it feels like I should start there. My name is Emmy Joss-Chapman and as you probably figured out by now, I am the niece of James Chapman.
Because of my gift with numbers, I've lived most of my life as my uncle's accountant and I'm ashamed to say what that has cost me. I have the proof that I need and so tomorrow morning, I will be turning myself into to the police as an accessory to my uncle's money laundering, tax crimes and murder. I know that no one will listen to the deaf girl going against her family. But I hope you will.
I have access to my trust fund. I can pay you whatever is necessary. Without your help, my Uncle will find a way to make me pay for everything he has done. That's why I need you to give me a voice so that I can finally be free. I will take jail time, and even death over another moment as my Uncle's pet. So, whether or not you decide to help me, I am doing this.
Sincerely
EJ.

Damn. My head hurts. It's going to be a long night. I pull open my desk drawer and pop two aspirin. I need to do some heavy research. If I decide to take her case on, I would be taking a huge gamble. A chance that she isn't like the rest of her family. And before I can do that, I need to know everything there is to know about Emmy Chapman.

Emmy

Gray comes to my room to wake me early Sunday morning. He doesn't need to douse me with cold water or strip me of my blankets, I haven't slept all night. My mind raced and every time I came close to sleep, the reality of today began to suffocate me.

I had to come back to my Uncle's estate last night from the dinner party. If I didn't, my uncle would have went looking for Alisha and before I can turn myself in, she needed to be on the first plane out of JFK airport. I knew Gray went to see her off but he's so good at keeping his emotions under wraps that I can't really tell how it went. I don't want to press him either. He and Alisha have to work things out of their own. I've meddled enough.

While I dress, Gray goes to wait for me outside my bedroom door. I find my favorite dress and a scarf that will cover the handprint on my neck. Sundays I always go to church. No matter what. It might seem a bit hypocritical for a well-known gangster's niece, to attend the Sunday sermon but when my parents were alive, we always went. When I go, it feels like I still have a piece of them with me.

Sundays we also have dinner as a family. It's really just my uncle's excuse to keep us in check. The "family dinner" is when we get dealt any punishments for the week. I get my fair share, but I mostly stay out of the way. Alisha is headstrong and defies my uncle in every way. By the time she has served one punishment her next is ready to begin.

I heave my purse over my shoulder. As much as I want to take every single book that I own, it would draw too much attention. I just need the essentials, but I am going to miss the small library I've amassed. Books have been my lifeline. In the darkest times, I could always count on a good story to provide me some escape. I glance around my bedroom one last time and stand beside Gray.

"Relax. You look nervous." He points out when I close my door behind me. "This is just like every Sunday. This part is easy."

Right. This is just like every Sunday, except if my uncle even gets a hint about what's going on, we're both dead before we reach the front door.

Downstairs, I'm sure the house is quiet. Very few people get up this early. Breakfast isn't usually served until nearly twelve. Yet, as we descend, I can feel my heart beating strangely fast. There is this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach and I quickly realize why. My uncle waits for us at the stair's landing. Behind him, Dwayne wears a cold sneer on his leathery face and Marco stands in a corner.

"Good morning, baby girl. I heard you had an interesting night." Uncle James peers up at me with eyes that are like my father's without the touch of crazy.

It disgusts me that they look so much alike. It makes hating my uncle harder. But they both have brown skin, like warm hot chocolate with hair that'd been grey since their twenties. They were both good looking men. My father settled down with Mom and my uncle never stopped parading young women through the estate. He never married Alisha's mom and no one knows how he got custody of her. I hate thinking of about it.

"Good morning, Uncle."

"Why don't you tell me what happened last night?"
I start to explain while he looks to Gray to translate. I follow along with his lips.

"She says nothing happened. She went to the bathroom and when she came out Marco and Dwayne lost their shit."

Uncle James turns back and glares at me. "Don't lie to me!"

I jump back. You don't have to hear him scream to feel the intensity. He knows something is up. My whole body is trembling now. I wonder if he'd found out about Ben and how. Was it Alisha? Maybe she didn't make on the plane and she was caught. My uncle has eyes everywhere. Anyone could have recognized her and---Gray drags me down the step. Standing me in front of everyone he pulls the scarf from around my neck, exposing Dwayne's handy work.

"I let her go to the bathroom," he explains looking as calm as he has always been known to be. "I told these two idiots to watch her. She didn't see them because they were too busy hitting on some teenager to notice. So EJ went looking for me. When they found her first Dwayne made her pay for their mistake."

My uncle may knock me around. But that doesn't mean he let's just anyone do it too. Fire rages in his eyes when he sees the bruising. He turns around so fast, takes out the gun in his belt and grabs Dwayne's right hand. All in a matter of one breath.

With eyes that look too much like my Daddy's, he looks at me while pressing the barrel of his gun into Dwayne's palm. I exhale Uncle blows a hole through his hand. Blood rains against the wall but manages to miss me and my Sunday dress.

"Enjoy church, baby girl." Uncle James grins.

I've become so desensitized to the violence that it hardly phases me. Even if I could hear Dwayne's cries, I doubt that would make a difference.

"And Gray," he adds. "If you ever let her out of your sight again, I'll put a hole through your thick head."

Gray nods and finally leads me out of hell.

Ben

Every Sunday Emmy goes to church. Apparently the entire would knew that but me. A Baptist church in the heart of the Bronx. I watch her from the farthest pew. I stick out like a sore thumb, not just because I'm white. But I'm not religious and it shows.

She sits beside a big guy who is whiter than me but seems completely at home with her here. Even signing to her every now and again. Watching them interact is more than I can take so every now again I put my eyes elsewhere. Never was one for jealousy and don't want it to rear it's head now, especially if she's just a client.

Service is over two hours later. The choir stops singing and the building begins to file out. One minute I see them both and the next they're gone. I'm walking back to my car, thinking I can wait for her at the police station and hopefully catch her before she heads in. That's when I feel hard metal being pressed into my ribcage.

"Keep walking." Says a harsh thick voice.

I keep up my pace until we make it to my Porsche. I didn't see myself getting robbed outside of a church when I started my day.

"Why were you watching us?" the voice demands.

"I'm not watching you." I reply with an even amount of control. "I was watching Emmy."

That causes him to press the barrel harder into my ribs. "Why?"

I joined the army right after college. Another way to get away from my father. I picked up a lot of useful things there. I may be a lawyer but I'm not a runt. I'm 6'3' with the hand to hand combat skill of the Army Special Forces. I could have the man on his back in no time but I have to be careful to not cause unnecessary attention to myself.

Smoothly, I respond "I'm a lawyer. Emmy is my client."

"What kind of lawyer carries a loaded .22?"

"A good one. And to be fair, this is New York."

My joke sails over his head as shoves the gun deeper.

"Gray, stop." The voice this time is soft and appealing.

We both turn toward it and find Emmy hugging herself and watching us both. Her gaze goes from Gray to me. The sunlight does magic to her brown skin making it take on a golden glow. It's been less than eighteen hours since I saw her last, but the effects are always like the first time.

Chapter 3.

Emmy

I noticed Ben first. As tired as I am today, I knew he was at the church. The heat of his gaze seemed to only penetrate me, and I felt him. When we stood to sing with the congregation, I saw him standing in the back. I told Gray and he was immediately on edge. He hates making mistakes. And not noticing Ben's presence feels like a mistake to him.

"Gray," I urge again. "Stop."

He's not up for listening to me. Anger colors his cheeks and he cocks his head back to Ben. "She told you to meet her at the police station. What the hell are you doing here?"

I am the one that gets the full force of his gaze as Ben chooses to answer the question directly to me.

"Emmy, if you go to the police station without proper representation, they will eat you alive. Not to mention, it's Sunday. After your confession they'll arrest you. Then you will spend the night in jail until a judge can decide what to do with you Monday morning."

Gray speaks up. "I have a friend at the police station. He'll make sure you're safe."

"One good cop in a room full of corrupt cops." Ben laughs dismissively and looks directly at me. "You want to gamble with those odds?

"Are you saying that I can't protect her?"

"The minute you step foot into that police station, only I can protect you."

"That's Bullshit, EJ. He's a lawyer not a trained guard."

"If you"re my client, I am whatever you need me to be, Emmy. The law is my domain, you're in over your head and you haven't even started."

I shudder. If Ben is trying to put the fear of God in me, it's working. Up against everything he has said, my earlier plan seems dangerous. Yes, I've always known that my uncle's reach even extends to the police, but I thought I would be safe to an extent. It all seems really foolish now.

My hands move and Ben follows them. "What should I do?"

"We stick to the plan." Gray replies, even though he knows the question wasn't meant for him.

"Emmy, this plan could get you killed, before anything even goes to trial."
I read the urgency in his blue eyes and my heart races.

"You need to come with me." He says firmly.

Gray. steps forward. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

"You aren't the brightest bulb in the box, are you?"

I admire Ben's tenacity. Even with a gun in his side and the trigger man ready to set things off, he looks unfazed. If this is how he handles the court room, it's no surprise that he wins so much. He looks like he is in complete control.

"Emmy, listen to me. I can take you somewhere safe tonight. We'll go over a new plan. One that doesn't make you a sitting duck."

"No. She isn't going anywhere. We don't know you. And I don't fucking like you.

"Yeah? Well I don't like you either--"

That's all I get. They're facing one another and just like that my ability to read lips becomes null and void. they stand toe to toe. Both men look more than willing to brawl right here in the church parking lot. I can't tell what's going to happen next. But the tension between the two of them is palpable. A blind man could see it.

My heart races as I tap Gray's shoulder.

"I think he's right." I sign. "I have to go with him."

Adamantly, he shakes his head. "No, you don't. We--" 

"He's right. You know he is. We have to do this the right way. For me and Alisha. If any of this goes wrong, she could suffer too."

I watch the thoughts cross his gaze. This is the part of the plan we both hate. We need to trust someone other than ourselves. For the longest it's just been me, Gray and Alisha. We've survived this long because we keep everyone at a distance. Letting someone else close has always felt like a trap, a mistake waiting to happen. Ben doesn't feel like just anyone else and that's the scary part.

"I trust him." I tell Gray. "I have to."

Ben looks down at the gun still being forced into his side. After another heartbeat, Gray slips it back into his waistband. Shuffling my bag onto my shoulder I step up to him and wrap my arms around him. Beneath me I feel the tension leave his body as his chin falls on the crown of my head. We hold each other for a few moments and when I let go, he is signing "I love you."

"I love you too. Go meet Alisha at the rendezvous spot and just be safe. Please."

Ben is watching the exchange from his hooded eyes. His face is expressionless and for the first time since we met, his gaze gives nothing away. He walks me to the Porsche's passenger side and I tuck my head down and slide in.

The interior is a smooth dark leather made warm by the sun, yet I'm trembling, nonetheless. I'm also exhausted, mentally and physically. My plan is already falling to pieces and if it completely crumbles, what then? Just to spite me, my uncle will find Gray. He'll kill him. And Alisha, he'll do what he's done to me. Lock her away from the world for good. I won't let that happen. No matter the cost to myself.

I close my eyes and feel the car rumble to life beneath me. I just hope that Ben is every bit the attorney he says he is.

Ben

I live in a luxury apartment in one of New York's infamous high-rises. The rent is steep, but I pay for the view and it's worth every penny. When we enter my penthouse, I offer Emmy my bedroom for the night and promise to order lunch. Then I give her the space she needs to explore. Putting some distance between us physically gives me a moment to sneak off to the bathroom and talk some sense into the man in the mirror.

My heart hasn't stopped racing since I started the car and I don't know what's wrong with me, but it takes my breath clear away. It's probably the communication part that's making me nervous. I learned some ASL in the Army, but I haven't used it in almost ten years. Last night, I spent a few hours on You Tube brushing up on my technique. It doesn't feel like enough. That's why these butterflies are running rampant in my gut. Having to talk to her is overwhelming.

Bullshit.

"Yeah," I breath aloud. "I know."

I feel my heart picking up an even faster pace than before. Having a gun jammed into your side in a church parking lot will do that. Maybe that's what this is, pure adrenaline still coursing through my veins and making it impossible to be rational.

I toss some cold water on my face and have to stare at myself in pure disbelief. As soon as I closed my eyes, I saw Emmy's face.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I mentally chastise. She's a client. She's a Chapman. Get your shit together. She's just another paycheck. Focus. 

I am lawyer. The very best. Whatever this infatuation I have for her it's temporary. It has to be. The moment I agreed to take her case I surrendered my feelings. Right now, Emmy needs me on my game. If even half of what she says is true, I'll be working hard to keep her out of jail. And the idea of her sitting in a jail cell just doesn't work for me.

We have a lot of ground to cover and we're short on time. The car ride over didn't give us the opportunity to "talk". So, I figure we can start with lunch and go through the new plan. Whatever the hell that is.

My pep talk leaves me feeling energized when I leave the bathroom. But the false bravado that I built up, quickly dissolves into nothing, when I see her again. Beneath the soft afternoon sunlight, sleep has overpowered Emmy. She looks beautifully peaceful. I've heard stories of the level of cruelty her uncle is known for. Seeing the bruising on her neck eats at me and I hope that at least in her sleep she feels safe there.

I feel compelled to tuck her in and drape a blanket over her frame. She stirs slightly and burrows herself further into the pillows. I steal a moment to imprint on my mind the way her curls spill over her shoulder. The soft rise and fall of her chest become a deeply hypnotic sight. It makes the butterflies take flight again.

I back out of the room quickly. If it looks like I'm running from her, it's only because I am. My head goes cloudy when she's around and having her here makes it worse. All I want to do is pull her into my arms and hold her until she feels safe again. Thoughts, that no lawyer should have about his client.

Emmy

I wake up to Ben's masculine scent. His sheets, the pillow and the refreshing smell of newly washed skin wafts through the air. He has just finished a shower and I can almost see the suds dripping off him in my mind.

My toes hit the soft plush carpet and I make my way to him. He's in the Livingroom wearing just a black towel around his waist and organizing a few manilla folders. I smile wondering if he ever stops working.

When he looks up and finds me there, he stops. My eyes walk down his tall frame. The suits he wore earlier left a lot to the imagination. I cold tell he was fit but I didn't expect him to look like Grecian God brought to life.

"Are you hungry?" he asks me, ushering to the food he promised me earlier.

I don't even turn to look at it. What I want can't be made in any pot or pan. Ben's eyes stalk my movements to him. They speak while his lips stay soft and wickedly inclined. I reach for him wanting so badly to capture the bead of water trailing down his chest. But he catches my wrist, mid-air.

"Emmy, I know what you're doing." He searches my gaze. "You're trying to forget about tomorrow. You're vulnerable. I-I don't want to take advantage of you."

Vulnerable. Weak. All words that no person with a disability ever truly wants to be told. I do want to forget about tomorrow because all I've ever known is violence and corruption and a life where my decisions are not my own.

"Emmy, you don't want this."

I try not to feel hurt by his rejection. Ben doesn't understand how badly I do want him. Unless I tell him. And to do that I have to let him in. Let him hear my thoughts in a way that I've never done before. I take a step away from his warmth and sign to him.

"Say my words back to me."

He agrees with a quick nod. Beneath his stare, I start with the slow drag of the zipper at the back of my dress. In his eyes, I watch it slip down my shoulders. I feel the hypnotizing rhythm as it brushes past my waist and hips before pooling at my feet.
His eyes take a long walk up and down the curves of my body. While they roam, I ignore the slow tremble I feel and move my hands.

"I live with a monster." I read my words from his lips as he speaks them aloud for me. "I am scared all the time. Everyday. Except with you.'

His lips stop moving and my hands travel to front clasp of my bra. I don't break away from his watchful gaze. In fact, I take a lot of pleasure from the sharp inhale of his breath. My breast spring free and my nipples tighten as the bra meets my dress on the floor. Again his mouth repeats what I say.

"Do you remember the library?"

He answers the question without hesitation. "Every day."

I bite my bottom lip behind a smile.

"Me too."

Iset my pinned curls free and shake them loose. His chest rises and falls so fast that I swear I can see the outline of heart beating through his skin. I wonder if he can see mine.

"I've never looked at someone and felt so safe. That's why I came here when you asked. I'm not afraid of with you."

He swallows when I stop signing and hook my fingers into my panties. With a stare edging me on, I step out of the cotton material.

"I need you, Ben. To make me feel good."

By the time he has said my words, I'm placing a tentative kiss to his lips. The taunt muscles in his hard abdomen flinch when my nails drag down them. But he doesn't stop me as I undo the knot at his waist. My belly gets the full weight of his erection as it thrusts forward.

Ben gathers my hair between his fingers and encourages me to try more of him. I push my tongue into the warmth of his mouth. Between us, I take hold of his dick, only to lose my grip when he lifts me off the floor.

In his room, he sets me gently on the bed. I watch silently as he flips out the lights. He leaves the soft glow of the bedside lamp on and I'm thankful.

For the most part, sex with a deaf person is like with anyone who is hearing. But for me, when it's done completely in the dark and you can't hear your partner or see them, it's lonely. I don't know if Ben knows that or if like me, he doesn't want to miss anything.

Ben quickly covers me. The warmth of him seeps into me and it feels so right. In many ways I've lost myself. I have forgotten who I am. But Ben looks deeply into my eyes. Each time he does, I feel like I've found my lighthouse. And he'll lead me to where I belong.

As his cock pushes through my slick folds, he holds my eyes as strongly as he holds me in his arms. I gasp and close them briefly at the sharp invasion. The pleasure is beyond anything that I have felt in a long time. And with a sinister smile he reads that thought on my face.

I wrap my leg around his waist and allow him deeper into my center. His face flushes with pleasure, his wild eyes scream it. What starts out slowly becomes fast and untamed. We become ravenous animals tearing at a pleasure that lies within the other.

In the mix of it all, Ben takes my palm and pushes it to the base of his throat. Right away I feel what I'm doing to him. The thick rolls of vibrations as he moans my name. I can feel the syllables pulse into my palm while I read it from lips.

"Emmy."

"Ben." I call to him feeling him ride closer the edge.

I want to go with him. I want to be there too. Wherever he is, take me there too.

"Emmy," he gazes down at me.

I feel so beautiful. Tears well up in my eyes until they spill down my cheek. Ben moves fast to take them away with his lips and I don't feel ashamed. I felt accepted. I am crying from the beauty of being completely whole inside and out. He isn't just pushing into me. Without words he is giving himself to me. Looking into my eyes and wanting me as I want him.

"Ben," I plead over and over. "Ben."

"I know, Emmy." His head falls to mine.

We kiss one another's names into silence. My walls were squeezing and pumping to keep up with him. But now I am ahead as pleasure ripples through me. I try to hold on. But every movement pushes me further. I grab for something and capture Ben as he takes me. And we fall together. Looking into his heated blue gaze, I pour myself out onto his length, still quivering inside of me. Ben smiles handsomely saying my name again he empties himself from inside my tunnel.

I almost hate that the condom is there. That I can't feel him emptying his seed into my womb. Still, I know it's for the best. I couldn't give him more if I wanted to. Chapmans are cursed to a life of loneliness and misery. I wouldn't damn a human being to my fate.

He must feel the sudden shift because his head tilts up from between my breasts. Our eyes meet and I throw my guard back up. A protection for the both of us. Ben comes back up to me, stroking the strands of hair from my face.
This is supposed to be one night. So why are our eyes communicating something deeper. Something like...forever.

Chapter 4

Ben

"Look at me." I give Emmy the soft order, as her back arches off the mattress.
She takes her eyes from my lips and I remember the danger they possess. That they are enriched liquid pools filled with desire. And they trap me like quicksand every time we meet.

I moan and bury myself deeper. "God damn, you're beautiful." 
For the third time tonight, I pound into her with reckless abandonment. Her legs wrap around my waist. Her nails scratch down my chest, over my shoulders and down my back. It's painful and yet addicting. It rises alongside the pleasure of her pussy squeezing against my dick. This is fucking heaven.

Sounds leave my throat that I can hardly recognize as my own and I'm turned on by it. But that's what she does to me. Overpowers my senses. Makes me drown in her gaze. Those intelligent eyes that speak to me. Beg me.

Don't stop, Ben. I'm close.

"Fuck, Emmy." I groan.

She traps her bottom lip between her teeth and nods. The simple action makes my balls tighten.

When she moans my name into the open air, I start to shake. It makes me weak and absolutely powerless to hold off my eruption.
Her eyes make their demand.

Don't stop.

I won't. I don't care how badly my own body aches; I won't stop until she is dripping her essence all over me.

Emmy continues to hold me captive in her brown gaze.

Right there.

Her pussy clenches. Her nails break my skin. The bed rattles beneath us, like the expensive Amish crafted wood is made of mere popsicle sticks.

She lets loose and cries out my name. "Ben!"

"Jesus, fucking Christ. Emmy!" I hiss.

The breathy sound of her voice panting my name is set to ruin me. Sex has never felt like this. It's a fleeting thought that registers deeply. Our sex is on fire. Flames lick across our skin and every time we touch, we burn a degree hotter. And somehow, I want more. I am craving to be scorched.

I have never felt like this. Looking at her makes me realize that too. She looks at me and I can't hold on. I'm falling off the edge. Falling further and deeper with each push of my hips. Further. Deeper.

"Ben." She groans.

I drop my gaze to her mouth and push the pad of my thumb to them. The strangest desire has come over me. I don't want to just hear it. I want to feel her lips say my name. A sexy grin seeps across her lips. Without a second thought she says my name against my thumb before sucking it into her sweet wet mouth.

"Emmy." My voice throbs with need. "Emmy."

She sucks me harder.

"Ben." She says around my thumb.

I feel her leg tighten around me. Her eyes glaze as her climax pulses through her. With her mouth gaping open, she is completely erotic. I fall apart here. The air around us fills with our broken moans and the waning sound of our wet penetration, until there is nothing left but gasps of air that finally fades into silence.

Emmy

I jolt up in the dark. Trapped beneath the heavy veil of sleep, my heart and brain are in a crippling panic. A hurricane of thoughts scatter around my head as I try to understand my nightmare. But as the veil lifts, it slips away like water passing through my fingers.

I squeeze my eyes shut and draw my knees to my chest. Movement rocks the mattress as a gentle stroke of fingers move a long my bare shoulder.

Ben.

His fingers hesitate. Goosebumps rise up in the aftermath of the slight touch and I am reminded that I am not alone. For the first time since I was a little girl, I am not forced to recover from a nightmare on my own. 

In the dark, I peer over at his place in bed. His fingers start up at my shoulder again, sliding down my arm. They urge me to just come to him and let go. I shouldn't be so relieved to seek comfort in his arms. Tonight is temporary. In a few hours we'll need to be client and attorney and he'll know the truth about me. But for now, I twist and allow myself the safety and warmth waiting for me in his embrace.

Ben's arms wrap around me protectively. I feel what the skin to skin contact is doing to him. How hard it's makes his cock beneath me. I'm not impervious to his touch. My pussy has already begun to pulse for him. But neither of us give in to the physical demand. A greater need is making itself known.

I blink against Ben's chest. Our breathing synchronizes. My heartbeat begins to stabilize. A sense of calm like I've never felt before overtakes me. I drift off to sleep with him burying his lips in my hair and my fingers drawing figure eights into his chest.

Ben

Around four in the morning I pull us apart and tuck Emmy into my bed alone. After last night, I need some sort of normalcy and starting the day at this hour is routine.
Cycle. Treadmill. Shower. I'm on a roll and in my home office, drinking my morning coffee at half past five. The problem is that I've only taken two sips before my mind wanders back to my bed. The last place it needs to be. Ethically speaking, I'm up shit's creek.

It isn't unusual for female clients to want to sleep with me. Mothers, daughters, widows, they've all thrown themselves at me because I've been the man saving them or someone they love from prison. Add on the emotional energy tied to each case and it can be a breeding ground for the white knight complex.

All that emotion, all that energy has to go somewhere, and the bedroom is the perfect place to settle out more than a few grievances. I know a lot of lawyers who give in to it. They win a case and bed the defendant, or their sister, or mother before the gavel slams down. It never interested me. But then again, I had my own vice. I would drink my happiness, my frustration and any other emotion I felt. But that led me to some pretty dark and lonely days.

What happened with Emmy last night was my fault. I know she wanted it, but I should have resisted. She's a Chapman and I am a Cornerstone. We're whiskey and beer; the two should never meet. Both of us come from two families of old money that can be traced back through the prohibition days. While my family eventually legitimized their dealings, hers did not.

Since then, all Chapmans have been known thieves, liars and murders. It's a mortal sin for a Cornerstone to even associate with one. And I have done more than associate with Emmy. I committed a Cornerstone cardinal sin. I touched the forbidden fruit. Felt myself in the deepest part of her and felt her in me. Once wasn't enough. I had to go back three times last night.

It's no secret, we have a connection. It's stronger than anything I've ever felt before. And that's dangerous. I can't help her and fall for her at the same time. It doesn't work. Ethically or otherwise. Her letter mentioned her as an accomplice to murder. If what she says is true, one mistake and she could end up in jail for the rest of her life. I don't want that for Emmy. I can push down my feelings, but I can't lose her. I can't put her in harms way either. So, I have to think for the both of us.

I keep my distance all morning, researching as much as I can about her and her family.Around noon, I come up for air and find Emmy seated at the breakfast nook. She looks up from her cinnamon roll briefly. Then her eyes scan the table and realizing that she's eaten most of the sweet dough, she panics. I reach into the fridge for milk with a smile.

"Don't worry," I chuckle filling her glass. "I ate more than my fair share while you were sleeping. I probably have the worst sweet tooth in the city."

I slide the milk closer to her hand. "Here."

She takes it with a small smile and sheepishly sips beneath my watch. And watch I do. I'm not supposed to be fascinated by everything about her and yet I am. But that's why they call it infatuation. The simplest way her full lips touch the glass and the milk slips between them, knocks me off balance.

"Thank you." She replies with a flat hand moving away from her smiling lips.

It's hard to appear unbothered when she's so close and watching me so intently. I need to take control of the situation before what happened last night becomes a real problem. I shake off my nerves moving my flat palm up out and then bringing it back toward my torso.

"You're welcome."

The gesture makes her smile brighten.

"You can sign?"

I lift my shoulders. "Yes, but I'm not good."

"You're wrong. You're very good."

Her compliment makes me grin and a warmth spreads across my chest. I realize that I am in the danger zone again. It shouldn't be this easy for her to enthrall me. Take control. I remind myself tersely.

I lean against the wall and question her abruptly. "Why do you pretend that you can't speak?"

Emmy's jaw ceases movement and she stares up in disbelief. Did she really think, I wouldn't notice? Last night she called out my name. Over and over again. I can't stop hearing it and I don't want to. Still, that doesn't excuse the fact that she can speak and she's been lying about it.

"Everything I read about you said that you were mute and deaf. But I heard you speak yesterday. What�s the point to lying about being able to talk?"

Her smile evaporates completely now. She looks mortified, like I'd thrown the entire tray of rolls in her face. I need my clients to be truthful with me at all times. I can't defend someone without them being as upfront as possible.

Emmy's eyes darken with pain and a memory that I can't see, fills them.

"Mute doesn't equal deaf." She signs. "Deaf doesn't equal mute.�

"I thought--"

She rises to her feet suddenly. "No! You assume. And you think because you googled me that you know me."

"Emmy--" I start but she pulls her gaze away from me.

In the silence I'm left to contemplate just how fast I stuck my foot in my mouth. I run my hand through my hair and squeeze my eyes shut. This is all new for me. I've never tipped toed around a client's feelings before. I say what needs to be said to do the job. And I can't do that with her without feeling like shit.

When I hear her fist pound against the table, my gaze jumps back to the pain etched in her face. It's hard to take.

"Do you know what is like to not be able to hear your own voice? To not know how to say a word? To not know if you are too loud or too quiet?"

"No," I concede shamefully. "I don't."

"You looked me up? Then you should know that I wasn't born deaf. I remember certain sounds and try to emulate them. But mostly I read lips to learn."

I can see the glaze of tears filling her eyes, but I can also see the determination to not let them fall this time.

"My uncle forbid anyone from helping me to speak." She continues after a slow breath. "It kept me dependent on him when I was a child. Made me ashamed as well."

"Emmy...." My heart aches for her.

"I haven't spoken a word since I was a child. I never felt like I was allowed to. I never felt..."

Safe.

She drops her hands leaving the thought unfinished but not the emotion. Every time she spoke yesterday was for me. Once to stop Gray from shooting me and the other times, intimately to me. Damn it. I'm an idiot. She spoke because I made her feel like she could. Like she didn't have to hold back from me. And then I made her remember all the reasons why she felt the need to keep me at a distance.

"I'm sorry." I sign try to joke. "Lawyer doesn't mean smart."

She gives me a half smile. But the light is gone. The wall between us is being rebuilt higher and stronger than before. And honestly, for now, that's for the best. She needs my help, not my heart.

Emmy turns to walk back to my bedroom. I take her and stop her. Startled she faces me. I ignore the rampant need to see if I could taste the vanilla icing on her lips. My mind is made up even while my heart hammers wildly in my chest. I look down at her earnestly.

"I need to know why you're here and exactly what you want me to do for you."

Emmy

I didn't expect what happened last night to last forever, but I had hope it had taken away the mistrust in his gaze. That he had begun to see me as more than just another Chapman. But I see the accusations being hurled at me in his eyes. Apart of him thinks that I'm here to somehow destroy the good Cornerstone name. Maybe even ruin his brother's company. If only it were that simple.

I pull myself free from Ben's grasp. In his bedroom I take out the most important thing I took with me from my uncle's estate. A small flash drive containing every piece of incriminating evidence I have, linking my uncle and myself to his money laundering scheme.

Ben looks on curiously as I make my way to his office and start pulling up the files. One by one. Lists of offshore accounts. Transaction histories. Businesses used to "clean" the dirty money and their distribution points. The last file makes me hesitate. It's marked Ghost List" and in it are all the men my uncle has made disappear.

Hot tears pinprick my eyes as I double click it open. Two names appear there and I can't bear to see them. Over my shoulder, I feel Ben's presence as he looks at the list as well. Most of the names are people already dead and gone.
Ben points to the dates next to one victim's name. I turn to him somberly.

"The dates correspond to the day the hit was carried out and the hitman was paid."

"How do you know?"

I read the question from his lips and swallow the lump in my throat.

"Because I am the one that paid them. I transferred the money every time."

He turns away from me and clicks through the names. The last page are people who my uncle hasn't killed yet. Like I knew it would, one name catches his eye. Alistair Cornerstone. His brother's name is there but there is no date.

Ben's blue gaze grows frigidly cold. I have always been deeply ashamed of the blood that runs through my veins. Even more so now. I wish Ben and I could go back to the library. To when, for the briefest of moments, our last names meant nothing to one another. When I looked at him, I saw happiness. I want to go right back to that moment, when he looked at me and he didn't see a monster.

Chapter 5

Emmy

For about an hour Ben goes through the files. I nervously sit across from him, watching. What has made me useful to my uncle is my gift with numbers and my ability to read people. My quiet nature gives others a reason to underestimate me. No one ever thought twice about the deaf girl in the room. As if being this way made me blind and dumb.  Flawed human thinking and my uncle readily took advantage of that.

 He trained me to see what others don’t.  Most hearing people think that we communicate our true feelings with our voice. I know better because I see it every day. What we think, what we feel, no matter how hard we try to hide it, shows in facial expressions. From our gestures to the simple way we move; body language is the one true language. And if you can understand it you’ll see the truth in every lie.

I know it better than ASL. I understand it better than most. A twitch of an eyebrow, a flare of the nostrils and I can point out a liar. I could peer into their eyes and show you a murderer. But I look at Ben and I see nothing of what I’m used to. And that scares me. I’m more comfortable in a room full of murderers and gangsters than I am, right now with him. Because I can read them. I understand them.

 “Pay attention, Princess.” My uncle would say just before one of his business meetings. “You have to make up for what you lack. You can’t hear the lies. So, I need you to see them.”

What lie is Ben telling himself as he clicks through the documents? Is he deceiving himself to believe that I’m not the person carrying his brother’s name on a “hit list”? Maybe he thinks this can all be easily explained away. Even though I know it can’t. The truth is there whether he wants to see it is another story.

Ben turns away from the computer screen and his icy blue gaze holds me in place.

“Who else have you shown this to?”

My hands move quickly in the front of me. “No one. The plan was to give this to Detective Morrison. She’s been after my uncle for years. She said if I gave her the right information, she could put him away for the rest of his life.”

“And what would happen to you?”

 “She offered me a plea deal…” I take a deep breath then let it out slow. “Ten years maximum.”

Ben blinks down at me in disbelief. A million thoughts running through his mind play back in his gaze. I try a reassuring smile, but it looks as fake as it feels.

“No.” He says firmly.

“It’s better than what I deserve.”  I shrug.

“That’s not your call to make.”

 “Ben, I paid those men to kill people. I laundered money willingly.  I’ve been a part of my uncle’s business dealings since I was six years old. I’m not innocent; I am a criminal.”

He shakes his head and leans his elbows on his desk. In his face is too much compassion. Now that he knows, I don’t want that from him. It isn’t justified.

 “There are other ways to handle this. Willingly giving up ten years of your life doesn’t come to mind.”

“Would you care if we hadn’t slept together?”

His mouth opens, the first words that meet his tongue disappear when his teeth bite down.

 “Last night has nothing to do with this. I would advise any client against a plea bargain that would go against their best interest.”

Ben halts my hands before I can sign my reply.

 “If you’re my client, then you are asking me to make sure the law works for you.”

My shoulders drop. I just want freedom and if it comes from inside of a jail cell, I’ll take it.

“You need to understand that this works for me.”

His gaze is stubborn now. He picks up his pen and starts jotting things down before speaking to me again.

“I will get in contact with this Detective. You’ll make your statement tomorrow morning. They’ll hold you for a few hours and I’ll get you released. After that we’ll fight any charge they bring up against you.”

My body goes numb as fear takes a hold of me.

“No!”

We look at my hands together as they tremble along with the rest of my body. I swallow down the feeling of my heart throbbing in my throat. Then I look back up at Ben. Now I’m under his microscope. Feeling the heaviness of his blue eyes scrutinizing my face.

“Fighting the charges means fighting my uncle.” I explain.  “It means prolonging this case. If I can put him behind bars, I would be making the world a better place. Ten years of my life is a small price to pay for that chance.”

Ben drops his pen and demands, “What do you even need me for? You have all the damn answers, Emmy.”

His anger tries to overcrowd the fear that has nestled against me. I feel them both overwhelmingly well and it hurts.

            “Uncle’s lawyers will try to railroad me. I-I’ve seen them do it before. An underpaid public defender would just let it happen. They will take the first check he cuts for them and run. But not you.”

            “Em-,”

            “If that happens my uncle will walk free.”

Visibly shaken, I’m unable to hide my own emotions now. And for a Chapman that’s considered worse than death.

“I researched you too. I’ve read about the cases you’ve won.  You don’t just care about the money. You try to right the wrongs, no matter the cost. I admire that, Ben.”

He leans forward and takes on my gaze. I drop my own away to think clearly, while I follow his lips.

 “Then you should know that I won’t let you take that deal.”

 “Please, this is the best thing you could do for me. My uncle isn’t worth the fight.”

“I don’t give a damn about him. You are worth the fight.”

I shake my head in dismay. Why can’t he understand that this is the right thing to do. That we can lose the battle but not the war. My Uncle has to go to prison. Or there won’t be any peace, for me, Alisha or Gray.

 “Did you know what the money you wired to those accounts was going to be used for?” He questions firmly.

            “Uncle is a gangster. All money is blood money. I didn’t know but I should have.”

“Should have known isn’t exactly prosecutable.”

“Stop.” I put my hands in front of him. “Don’t try to look for some redeeming quality in me. I promise, it isn’t there.”

            My uncle made me watch a lot of things. Bad things that I felt powerless to stop. But I am not perfect. Some of those things…I wanted to happen. I wanted the justice and the weight my name carries. I am a Chapman, and nothing can change that.

            “I won’t let you throw ten years of your life away. We will find another way.”

            Tears well up in my eyes. I don’t want him to know this side of me. The Chapman side that’s willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. But it isn’t supposed to be this difficult. All he needs to do is say yes. Let me go and let me do what’s right for everyone.

“You don’t have a choice.”

            He raises an eyebrow questioningly.

            Guilt floods through me.

            “Gray will kill your brother. I put his name there and if you don’t help me, he’ll be dead by this time tomorrow.”

I fight back the tears as they threaten to blind me. But those words are what do it. They break that halo he saw floating around my head. I can see the shattered pieces glistening in his eyes and I feel them too.

“I’m sorry if I made you believe that I was completely different from the rest of my family. I’m not one hundred percent innocent. I am a Chapman.”

            I swear the world goes dark and my heart breaks apart. Mentally, I put up the Chapman shield, so not a single piece tumbles out. Then I bury the pain as far as it will go.

            “So it’s help you or bury my brother.”

            I nod solemnly. “A or B. You choose.”

            Ben’s eyes turn dark and impassable. His lips stiffen.

 “Fine. I’ll help you. But you need to understand something.” He pauses washing his hard gaze through me. “You are a job. And when we’re done here, I won’t want anything to do with you or any other Chapman.”

            I let his words sink in. The Chapman shield hardly holds up against them.

 “Last night doesn’t change the facts. And the fact is…we can’t be anything more than who we are right now.”

His lips twitch slightly. There is more to say but he holds back. He holds back and tries so hard to not give anything away.

We look at one another. I don’t want to read him. I don’t want to use this curse against him. But it’s all I know how to do. My uncle made me to see through people. See them for who they really are and understand how they see me. It’s harder with Ben but not impossible.

“Who am I right now, Ben?”

His eyes speak before his mouth. The flaw in us all. But they tell me who he thinks I am.  They tell me the truth.

You’re Damaged…

And I suppose he’s right. There’s more there but I can’t bear to look. I drop my gaze back to his lips and fight back the sting of tears.

“My client.” He says simply.

I sign back feeling a heaviness I’ve never had before. “Okay.”

“Good. From here on out, you’re going to need to trust me.”

“Trust is a foolish man’s currency.” Uncle’s warning sounds in my mind. “And it pays for nothing but heartache and pain. The only thing worse than it, is love. Above all things, never love, Princess. It is a trap.”

At least I don’t love Ben. I’m grateful that I’ve shown restraint there. When you’ve been deprived of it for so long, it’s natural to gravitate toward any ounce of affection and mistake it for what it is not. Classic Fool’s Gold. But I’m a smart woman. I know what last night was to us.

Ben and I scratched the itch that started in the library months ago. We were starving to feel that connection again and we used each other. We breathed air to the embers until flames roared to life. But by morning they died out. And that’s okay. The one thing I’ve always been good at is letting go and not wanting what I can’t have.

Ben

I swallow down my anger and it burns all the way to the pit of my belly. Emmy sees my white knuckles and the effort it takes me to not give away the effect her words have had. But it’s too late. Those big brown eyes see everything. So, I need to get out of here.

“You will speak with the Detective tomorrow down at the station.”

Emmy frowns. “Why not now?”

            Because I need more time. I blink away so she doesn’t catch that thought. Then I rise out of my chair rolling down my sleeves. Everything she said about me is right. I am a defense attorney for a reason. It’s my way of protecting people from sloppy police work and made up evidence. I work hard for my clients. I fight tooth and nail for them, and she won’t be any different.

            Emmy hits her knuckles against the desk to get my attention. I don’t give it to her right way. Looking at her now will ruin me further. It’s just clouds up my head. I need to work up my defenses when it comes to her and I can’t do that when we’re in the same space.  

            I move around her quickly. She’s so petite that I can see over her head without any problem, and I’m thankful. I feel her eyes but as long as I don’t look directly into them, I won’t give in. Emmy’s knocks become more urgent as I pull my suit jacket on and fix the collar. I glance at my watch and its just after three. It’s a horrible time for me to head over to my office but I’m going to anyway. I can think better there.

            At the front door of the penthouse she grabs a hold of my arm and tries to stop me from leaving. I turn around and her hands move between. It’s too fast. I miss most of what she is trying to say but understand the point.

            “I am going out”.  I sign and say aloud, frustratedly.

            Her perfect sleek black eyebrows meet in the middle of her forehead.

“Why?”

            “I have things to do in the office. Other clients. And since I wasn’t planning on a house guest for another night, I need to get us dinner. Or it will be cinnamon rolls again.”

            She purses her full lips and shakes her head. She doesn’t believe me and I’m not surprised.

            “Stay here. I’ll be back around seven.”

            “Please.” She says earnestly holding her palm out.

            “What?”

            This anger that’s boiling inside of me isn’t because of her. It’s for her. We both saw the way she reacted to meeting her uncle in court. She’s afraid of him and I’m sure he has justified that. Since she was a child he has had her under lock and key. A tool to use against his enemies. It isn’t right.

            “Please…don’t try to save me.” She urges.

            Don’t save her. I’ve only wanted to do that very thing, since we met. Ten years from now she could be anyone and have anything. She could have a career. A family. A life better than she could dream up. I won’t let her give that up. But this could never be just about saving her. This is about me.

            I can’t turn my back on someone in need. It’s not who I am. It isn’t what I stand for. She was right before. This world is unfair and if I can right a wrong, I’ll do it. That’s who, I am. But I won’t be used. I won’t be manipulated.

            I’ll help her put a bad man behind bars and then I will wash my hands of Emmy Chapman. But it will happen on my terms. Because bad men deserve to rot in jail, and I’ll be more than happy to put of them there. That’s who I am and what I do.

            “Everything,” I sign and speak. “Isn’t about you.”

            Her emotions aren’t hidden away, despite how hard she tries. Her pain is on full display in the shadow of her eyes. I see it in the soft curve of her lips. Feeling exposed, Emmy backs away from me. Then I leave the penthouse, locking the door behind without a second look back. In the next moments I’m in my Porsche fighting my anger alongside New York City traffic and trying not to think of those achingly beautiful, sad eyes as they rip through me.

Gray

A lot runs through your mind when you’re having the shit kicked out of you. Survival should be at the top of the list. But as many blows as my head is taking, I can only think about her. She’s worth the blood dripping down my brow. The ache in my arms from being suspended in the air for the last hour. She is worth every threat they hurl at me and the slow agonizing death that they promise.

I just wish I’d told her that before I let her go.  But behind my swollen eyelids I see her soft face and her tantalizing lips. They’re whispering to me. Begging me to hold on. And for her I grasp on to every memory and allow it to numb me. She is my lidocaine for this horrific punishment.

As my nerve endings stop firing off a deep voice booms into the room. It cuts across the cackling and smell of blood.

“That’s enough!” He shouts. “As much as I am enjoying this, we need him alive. Cut him down.”

In a breath I plummet to the cement floor then roll to my side coughing up the blood stuck in my throat.

“You’re a fool Gray.” Robert Chapman laughs. “A fool. You should have ran away with her when you had the chance.”

No. This was the way it was supposed to be. I was never going to follow her. Doing that would mean exposing her and I’d happily die first.

            The back of my head burns as my face is pulled out of my own personal pool of blood. He leans in purposely to what’s left of my good ear.

“Twenty-four hours, Gray.” He spews venomously. “I want EJ here in twenty-four god damn hours! Or so help me I will—”

I spit the blood rinsing around my mouth out into his face. Within seconds I’m being pummeled again, until his laughter echoes around me. When I look up he’s wiping his face with a crisp white cloth and staring down at me with the devil in his eyes.

“Keep testing me and I’ll send you to her in pieces. Imagine her coming home on a hot day finding you neatly gift wrapped in a box. Your body would burn fast in the Georgia heat.”

An ice cold shiver trickles down my spine.

“Don’t look so surprised.” He says condescendingly. “I know everything. I’ll have Alisha out of Georgia and back where she belongs too. Now whether or not you get see her is up to you. Twenty-four hours. Bring me my little pet and I’ll let you live.”

He’s gone leaving my hotel room in complete shambles. All the his other henchmen file out behind him. All except one.

“Well you’re a pathetic piece of shit aren’t you?” Dwayne says bending down to my level. “Fucking the boss’ daughter and what the deaf chick too?”

I try to swing at him but I have no real use of my arms left. My poor effort sends him into a hearty laugh.

“Unlike the old man, I don’t think we need you.” He pulls a pocket blade and before I can move drives it into my side.

I grunt out in pain and he leads me to the floor. “An eye for eye big man.” He whispers. “And don’t worry about the girls. When I find them, I’ll take good care of them.”

The last image I have is the smirk on his face as everything fades to black.

Emmy

Left alone in Ben’s apartment, I feel ill. I hate myself for the threat I made against his brother. I sounded like Uncle and it sickens me to my stomach. I start to gather my things. No plan. No reasoning, just the notion that I need to get out of here. I shove everything that I own back into my bag. Then I get a pen and paper from Ben’s office and scribble out an apology.

I can go down to the police station on my own. When I go to move it vibrates madly in my hand. I reach down into the side pocket for the burner phone Gray purchased for me. A message from Alisha pops up.

We’re safe.

That’s all I need. And I remember why I’m here. More importantly, why I have to do this the right way. It’s all or nothing and they’re worth it. The next message quickly follows behind the first.

When will we see you?

The phone shakes in my hand my thumbs type out a quick response. Tears slip down my cheek. I hadn’t told Gray or Alisha the full plan. That there was no scenario where I walked away from this with them. It had to be this way or neither of them would agree to the plan.

One month. Love you both. So much.

Ben

Long after the renovations to my office were complete, I spent my evenings at the library hoping to see Emmy again. Hoping to talk to her as well. I had nothing to go on, but I spent every morning and every lunch practicing ASL. I never told anyone but I never stopped hoping I would see her again.

Women have always come easy for me. Even before I became a lawyer, I am still my father’s son. A Cornerstone. Old money in a city owned by it. My name could get me anywhere and with anyone. And I spent my youth using it to my advantage. But her. I didn’t think it could get me her. And then it did. She needed a lawyer and the Cornerstones are the best. After months of searching for her, Emmy found me. And as cliché as it sounds, it feels like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.

“Burning the midnight oil or what man?” Owen asks plopping down into one of the empty chairs in front of my desk.

He loosens his tie and I glance down at my watch.

            “It’s not that late, man.”

He shrugs. “I know but it’s after seven. We’ve got zero cases to work on. You should be at home relaxing.”

“You’ve got zero cases to work on.” I emphasize.

“I didn’t know you picked up another one. Why didn’t you say anything?”

When we decided to go into practice together, Owen and I made a deal that we wouldn’t take on any case that we didn’t truly believe in. There are enough ambulance chasers, rule breakers, arrogant litigators in New York. We would take cases that we believed in. That we were willing to lose sleep over. Above all else we would never take a case related to the Chapmans. So, I don’t exactly know how to tell him about Emmy.

“It’s private.” I murmur.

“Private…or personal?”

“What’s the difference?”

“The look on your face.”

I run my hand over my face as if it will somehow take away some of the tension there. Nothing happens. I’m still on edge.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Ah I get it. You don’t want to talk about it. No worries.” He drops two tickets on my desk. “These are for you. Charity Ball is in a month. I picked up your tickets.

I hardly give them a glance as I shut down my computer.

“Got anyone in mind?” Owen asks.

I shrug. “Not really.”

Not anyone I could actually be seen with in public anyway.

Owen snaps his finger. “What about that girl from the party Saturday night. Ugh. What was her name?”

“Megan.” I supply.

“Right! Megan. She was cute.”

“Yeah, she was.”

I drag on my coat. My heads already home wondering what Emmy is doing in my apartment. And what I actually plan on doing for dinner for us both. I didn’t even ask her favorite food. So I’ll have to take a guess. Pasta should suffice. Everyone likes pasta—-

“Holy shit!” Owen exclaims right after the sound of glass shatters onto the floor outside my door. “What was that?”

The cleaning crew aren’t due to be here for another few hours. And as far as I knew it, everyone else went home for the day.

“Stay here,” I command.

My army training kicks right in. The gun I keep in my desk is in my hand by the time Owen takes a step back. Another sound of glass crashing to the floor rings out. This time closer than the first noise. Before I get to the door, a tall man covered in lumps and dried blood barrels in.

“You get out!” he urges pointing a silver barrel gun at Owen before turning his one good eye to me. “You sit the fuck down.”

I look at Owen and his blue eyes are more terrified than I’ve ever seen.

“It’s fine.” I reply with all the calmness my military training instilled in me. “Get some rest. I’ll call you in morning.”

“Y-y-you want me to leave you here? Are you insane?”

“I said it’s fine. Don’t call anyone. Everything is oaky.”

“Get out!” Gray barks impatiently.

“Are you really in a position to be barking orders at people Gray?”

To make my point he falls against the wall and groans in agony. I roll my eyes and lower my gun. “We’ll talk in the morning. I have everything under control. Trust me.”

Owen eyes me. He knows me. He knows me really well. I’m not sure what has happened to Gray but I do know I don’t want it to happen to my friend. I drag him out by his arm.

Over his shoulder he says, “If I don’t hear from you by seven, I’m calling the police.”

I nod and push him out the room. When I turn around Gray is back on his feet pointing the gun at me.

“You’re bleeding.” I tell him walking back to my desk for my first aid kit. “More importantly you’re ruining my floor.”

“Where is Emmy?”

“How about you start with putting the damn gun down.”

“I-I need Emmy.”

“You need a hospital.”

“Listen to me, you rich pompous asshole. Y-y- Emmy.”

His speech slurs as he loses his balance and staggers back to the wall. I’m on him in seconds taking the gun and helping him to a chair. I’m in full combat mode now. Assessing him quickly and processing all the relevant details.

He’s been beaten pretty bad. One eye is swollen shut. His lip is bruised and bloody and he’s clutching his side. I move his arm and everything falls into place. The bandage that he likely placed there himself is saturated with blood. He’s been stabbed and he’s bleeding out. At the same time he’s losing consciousness which is not a good sign.

I undo my shirt and grab my cellphone.

“What are you doing?” his eyes begin to roll back.

“Saving your life. Now shut the fuck up and let me.”

With his last bit of energy, he whispers. “I love her.”

I shouldn’t envy a dying man. But the commitment in his voice, the way she’s on his mind when he’s so close to death it’s messing with my head. It shouldn’t. She’s nothing to me but another paycheck I remind myself. Then I focus on the task at hand. Saving Gray’s life.

By the time my phone call is answered, he’s got nothing. His eyes are shut, and his breathing becomes shallow.

Emmy

I don’t think he’s coming back. Why would he? I haven’t even paid Ben for his time, nor have I properly thanked him for taking my case. Even if he doesn’t really want to. I let out a grievous sigh and watch the red digital numbers on the clock turn to a glaring four. Then I roll onto my back and try to formulate a new plan.

Alisha is safe. Her baby is safe and that’s all I wanted. Gray is with them where he belongs. And me? I’m going to keep it that way. Maybe I thought that I needed Ben, when really all I need is to be strong. Whatever happens from here on out, I’ll take it. Jail would be paradise compared to the hell I was brought up in.

Danger.

I wake up with a jolt. My heart races wildly as I look around the room panicked. The digital clock reads just after five. A familiar aura falls over me and makes me tremble. Something is wrong.

I carefully peel the blankets back and ease open the bedroom door. Light streams in from the hallway. With my body held from view, I tip my nose in the air. A familiar rich sensual musk teases my nostrils. But it’s mixed with a lighter sweet fragrance. Ben is here. He’s with a woman. And—

Gray.

Blood.

It all hits me at once and bolt barefoot down the hallway. A thousand signals fire off in my head. The messages ram into one another shaking me to my core. At the center is one truth. Gray is hurt. And only one person could have hurt him.

Ben

“You’re impossible.” Molly huffs, tossing her red hair over her shoulder and stuffing some medical supplies back into her bag. “You and your brother. Impossible.”

I’m in the middle of sipping on a stiff drink and taking the blunt of Dr. Molly Grant’s wrath when the unmistakable sound of feet padding down the hallway catches my attention.

Together we both look up to find Emmy standing there with her big brown eyes wide and round. Her eyes go to me for a second. Enough for me to read the shear terror on her face. Then they fall on Gray. His entire body spans the length of the couch. He’s bare chested with a chest tube sticking out of him completely unconscious. I take a slow drink and watch Emmy collapse at his side. Then she takes his hand in hers.

“Really Benedict?”

Not knowing that Emmy is deaf, Molly takes my arm and drags me out of earshot.

“What is with you Cornerstone men, huh?” she hisses, pushing her glasses up her petite nose. “I thought it was just your brother but apparently you both love the damsel in distress complex.”

“She’s a client.”

I glance over her head and Emmy is running her hand down the side of Gray’s face. I’m not jealous. I convince myself, looking back down at Molly.

“And Sora was just a friend. And Nikki—”

“Hey,” I stop her. “Don’t throw your and my brother’s bullshit on me. I appreciate what you did here but I’m not Alec. Take your problems up with him.”

They have a history. I still don’t know exactly what went down between the two of them but I know Molly hasn’t moved on. Regardless, it’s not right for me to yell at her especially after all she’s done. But I guess that’s the true definition of transference. I’m more pissed at myself than I could ever be at her.

“I’m sorry.” I apologize. “It’s been a long night. I’ll take you out and try to make things right for all Cornerstone men. But in the meantime, can I trust you won’t tell anyone about this?”

“Just do me a favor and leave me out of your mess.”

Molly takes her things and leaves out quickly. I’ll have to send a gift basket to her office. Something that says thanks for saving a gangster’s henchman. Whatever I do, I’ll have to figure it out in the morning. When I’ve had at least an hour of sleep.

I walk back into the living room and stop right away. My law school t-shirt falls just above her exposed thighs. Emmy crosses the distance between us. It’s the sadness in her eyes that breaks me. I hadn’t thought of it before but what happened to Gray was purposeful. It was vengeful. It was her Uncle. And Emmy is scared.

When she reaches me, I pull her into my arms and kiss the top of her head. Her arms wrap around my waist. The feel of them pushes me further to the line. The imaginary one I drew in the sand before I left. The one that was supposed to divide us. It’s only drawing us closer and I don’t know how to stop it. Just that I don’t really want to.