Even knowing every single answer was a lie.
The attorney, Mr. Carbellero, represented the state, though it quickly became clear he was under Martin Jennings’s dime, pressing an issue that wouldn’t have been an issue at all had Martin not spearheaded it in the first place.
“I never sought any form of custody earlier because I respected Ms. Bentley’s wishes to step away from the limelight of the business to raise our daughter in her hometown. It’s a decision I’ve often regretted. When I saw the pictures of paramedics attending my daughter on the beach, I knew I had no other choice than to step in and intervene.”
He settled his soulless eyes on me. “Especially when I found out Shea was allowing my child to be exposed to someone as dangerous as Sebastian Stone.”
My daughter! I wanted to scream. How could he sit there and try to claim her? After what he’d done? What I’d told Sebastian had been true. I’d foolishly hoped Martin had changed. That some sort of conscience had grown within the warped confines of his evil heart.
From where Sebastian sat directly behind me, I could feel the anger roll from him at Martin’s insinuation—the hardness of his breaths and the restraint radiating from his body.
“And you know from experience how dangerous Sebastian Stone can be?” More propaganda from Martin’s attorney.
“I’ve been involved in Sebastian Stone’s business dealings for some time now.” Martin went on to paint Sebastian in the most awful light, a strung-out addict prone to violence. Violence propagated against him.
Just as I knew Martin to be. A liar. A manipulator. Saying whatever needed to be said to get his way. To build himself up while he tore everyone down around him.
Using them as steppingstones.
My heart lurched with the memories.
A masochist.
A destroyer.
Martin acted out his role so perfectly, giving details of the assault, as if there had been no inciting factors. He implied Sebastian had assaulted him for no reason at all. Martin played himself out to be nothing more than an unsuspecting victim in Sebastian’s premeditated fit of rage.
It was just as Sebastian had warned. Martin had the edge. The law on his side. They presented the assault charges against Sebastian as the ugliest kind of blemish—almost as bad as the time he had served in prison four years ago.
My fingers twisted tighter, and I tried to decipher the judge’s expression as she listened to Martin’s testimony. I knew she could easily look at Sebastian in a negative light—view the rest of the guys in that same light—making judgments on appearances and assumptions.
It made me sad few would blame her.
But she didn’t know Sebastian like I did. She didn’t see beneath all the hard lines and scars to what burned bright below.
I guessed her to be in her late fifties, and she wore her hair in a smart gray bob. Thin and tall. Yet everything about her felt powerful and strong.
Stoic.
Giving nothing away.
God, I was just thankful she wasn’t the judge who’d issued the emergency injunction in the first place.
From behind, I could almost feel Baz’s apology pouring from him. Could almost hear the words of self-flagellation churning in his head. He was probably pleading for me to forgive him. Asking me to heed the many warnings he’d given me that he would never be enough, that he would always drag me down and leave me in shreds.
But, I wouldn't listen to those words. Especially when he'd been the only thing that had held me together over the last two days.
Two days I’d been without my daughter.
Two days of torment.
Two days of agony.
Two days of not knowing where she was. If she was scared or if she was safe. If she understood I was fighting for her or if she simply wondered if she had been abandoned.
Two days of Sebastian holding me through it all.