The power of the man’s presence stole the air from the room as he made his way to the stand. Filling it up with something all his own.
The weight of his gaze almost crushed me as he looked across at me, every admission, apprehension, and desire blazing in his eyes. Every reason he’d ever given to walk away and everything that had him running back played out in the depths of the roiling grey. A fire that flamed free and bold.
My heart beat frantically as he recounted the story from his perspective. The fear he’d felt was clear. There could be no denying how he cared for my child.
Most of the questions Nigel asked were the same he’d asked the rest of the guys, but he pushed a little deeper, gaining greater detail. It seemed as if Nigel were wrapping up his questioning, walking back toward the table where I sat, when he paused and looked back at Sebastian. “What is it exactly Shea Bentley means to you, Mr. Stone?”
Sebastian looked directly at me, something softening in the severity of his stare. “She’s my girl.”
His answer was simple, though his expression was anything but.
Yesterday, Sebastian had made a public statement.
Claiming me.
Claiming Kallie.
He denied our relationship had anything to do with the fact Kallie’s father was the same man who Sebastian had been arrested for assaulting. He’d calmly stated there was no bearing or connection, and it was just a twisted coincidence that had led us down this cruel yet exquisite path.
These two, they’re it for me, so as soon as we clear this mess up and get Kallie back home where she belongs, that’s where I’m gonna be.
That’s what he’d said before he pulled me a little closer and dropped a tender kiss on the top of my head, told them thank you for your time, and turned us away.
They’d rushed, firing question after question at us.
But Anthony had stepped in and corralled them as Sebastian quickly ushered me back inside Nigel’s office, saying we wouldn’t be available to answer any questions and making a plea for them to respect our privacy in this difficult time.
Nigel nodded. “One last question, Mr. Stone. How long has it been since you’ve used any illegal substances?”
Sebastian raked a hand down his face and blew a heavy breath from his mouth. “I’ve been clean for four years.”
“Thank you, that’s all.”
Nigel sat back down beside me, and Martin’s attorney approached. There was no missing Sebastian’s discomfort, the way he struggled to hold himself back, to keep himself in check, rage barely constrained as the man dove right in to undermine his testimony.
To undermine him as a man.
No doubt, just being in the same room as Martin Jennings was almost more than he could bear. Forcing him to sit through this attack was nothing less than cruel.
And make no mistake. It was an attack.
Mr. Carbellero asked the expected questions, before he shifted tactics and launched into his own agenda.
“Isn’t it true you came to Savannah knowing Martin Jennings had ties here?”
“No.”
“Isn’t it true you sought out Shea Bentley as a way to get back at Martin Jennings with whom you’re involved in both criminal and civil suits?”
“No.” That time, his answer was harder.
The judge cut in with a lift of her chin. “Mr. Carbellero, please keep your questions pertinent to the event taking place this past Sunday,” she warned.
In annoyance, the attorney’s lips thinned, and he offered her a clipped nod.
Sebastian fidgeted in the stand, hostility clear, before he was excused.
From the side, Nigel gave me a reassuring glance, confidence clear in his eyes, and I tried to temper the overwhelming emotion pricking at my eyes.
Climbing down from the stand, Sebastian looked at me warily as he passed, big body eating up the ground as he crossed through the short gate and took his seat.
A storm of turmoil ricocheted between us, all our hope clouded with fear and uncertainty.
My fingers twitched, wishing I could go to him. Comfort him the same way he’d been comforting me.