“How do you normally pay for the extra costs, then?” I snapped, wondering if I should have had someone keeping tabs on her. I’d wanted to—so damn badly—but I’d felt like a fucking stalker just thinking about it.
“I turn tricks,” she said as she took another loud bite of her burned toast.
“Elli!” Mabel shouted, and I fought the need to murder someone.
“What?” She laughed. “I’m kidding. I’ve been waiting tables at a diner near campus.”
Biting back a curse, I made a mental note to contact the person handling her “scholarships,” and I forked the rest of the omelet into my mouth. Picking up my coffee, I swallowed two large gulps before pushing back from the table. “Court starts in half an hour.”
“Have a good day, dear,” Mabel called from the other side of the kitchen. “Let me know if you change your mind about sending over an evening meal.”
Throwing up a hand in acknowledgment, I stomped out of the house. One of my security guards was standing beside my car. He opened my door, and I climbed into the back, my phone already pressed to my ear. It was still early on the West Coast, and my call went to voice mail.
“We need to talk,” I snarled. “Call me back.”
Hanging up, I made arrangements for later. I needed to burn off some steam or no one was going to be safe.
Chapter 3
Ellianna
After working all day, I was exhausted, but when I entered the kitchen following a long shower, Mom was already standing at the stove, putting food into a bento box.
“Honey, do you mind dropping this off at the courthouse for me?” she asked without looking up from carefully arranging grilled chicken on top of perfectly roasted vegetables and brown rice.
“Did Zachary change his mind?” I asked, popping a roasted garlic and parsley baby potato into my mouth.
“He didn’t call, but I’d feel better if he had a home-cooked meal. His cholesterol was high when he had his last doctor’s visit.”
My brows lifted toward the ceiling in surprise. “His cholesterol? But he’s like…” Mom glanced at me, and I shrugged. “Freaking perfect.”
“It doesn’t matter how much a person works out if they have bad genetics. Heart disease runs in his family. His father died of a heart attack, and so did his grandfather. The cycle will end with Judge if I can help it.” She put the top on the bento box and lifted it toward me.
Reluctantly, I took it from her. “Fine,” I grumbled. “Where are your keys?”
“Take Lyla’s car. It’s not like anyone ever drives it anyway. All it does is sit in the garage, taking up space.”
“Zachary won’t like my driving it,” I tried to argue, only to get glowered at. “He yelled at me the last time I drove it.”
“Because you got a speeding ticket,” she reminded me.
“I was only doing six over the speed limit.” I huffed.
“In a school zone!”
“It was ten o’clock on a Saturday night, so it doesn’t count.” Stomping over to the drawer that held the extra keys, I found the fob I needed and snatched it up.
“That deputy called Judge and made him think you were driving erratically,” Mom tried to excuse. It was maddening how she was always on his side.
I rolled my eyes. “Zachary accused me of flashing my boobs at the guy in an attempt to get out of the ticket.”
“Did you?”
“Of course not,” I muttered defensively, feeling interrogated all over again, even though it had been over four years since I’d gotten that stupid ticket. “Lyla was the one who pulled down her top a bit to give him a little peek at the girls when the cop walked up to the passenger door of the car because traffic was crazy that night.”
A hint of a smile teased at Mom’s lips. “I’m glad she’s coming home. Judge hasn’t been the same since she started working with Barrick.”
I’d already started at college by the time Lyla had started working with her cousin, but I knew how lost Zachary had been when she’d left. He’d taken care of her for as long as I could remember. She was his entire world. If anything happened to her, I knew it would utterly destroy him.
His tenderness for Mom and Lyla showed me he had at least a few drops of humanity inside his cold heart.
Too bad those small signs of warmth didn’t include me.
In the huge, detached garage at the back of the mansion, I slid behind the wheel of Lyla’s car. When I drove away from the house, I wasn’t surprised that the radio was on the same station Lyla and I had been listening to the last time we’d used the convertible. She’d only ever personally driven it a few times. My friend might be able to hold her own in the Underground world, but she was a nervous wreck when she got behind the wheel.
In the past, if I wasn’t available to drive, she would get a member of Judge’s security detail to chauffeur her around. Her ability to identify and accept her own weakness made me admire her more. Not everyone was able to embrace the parts of themselves that made them vulnerable.
The courthouse was on the other side of town. I rolled down the windows and took my time, enjoying the warm evening air and taking in all my favorite spots as I prolonged the delay in seeing Judge.
Finding that the parking lot only had a few vehicles, I rolled up the windows and reached for the bento box on the passenger seat. As I entered the building through a side door that led straight to the judges’ wing, I was greeted by one of the bailiffs.
I remembered the guy from when I was a teenager, and he immediately recognized me. “Miss Chambers, Judge Bennet’s assistant said he didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“Hi, Ted.” I lifted the dark blue box in my hand, showing him the food. “My mom asked me to drop this off. I won’t bother him, but I can’t leave without making sure he has his dinner, or she will worry.”
His face softened. “Judge won’t like Mabel worrying. I guess it won’t hurt anything if you’re quick.”
Giving him a smile in thanks, I walked down the corridor. Judge had the last office at the end. The door wasn’t locked, and I walked in. His receptionist was already gone for the day, and his assistant’s desk was already cleared off, his laptop missing, telling me he’d gone home.
Walking over to the closed door to Zachary’s office, I knocked and waited.
“Come in!” he barked.
Clenching my fingers around the bento box, I reluctantly opened the door with my free hand and stepped inside. The only light on in the room was a single lamp on the large mahogany desk Zachary was seated behind. His damp hair was pushed back from his face. With his focus on the screen of his computer, a frown pulling at his brows, it took me a moment to realize he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
His bathroom door was open, steam still coming out of it. All the judges’ chambers had a private bathroom, but his was the only one I knew of that had a shower in it as well. Howler had put it in for him when Zachary first took the bench, and Zachary had paid for out of his own pocket, so it wasn’t like it had cost the taxpayers a dime.
“You’re late,” he snapped without looking up.