“What happened?” Alex asked, and held a hand out to help her up from the floor.
She shook her head and let him lead her back to the chair where she collapsed heavily. “I...I got two memories back-to-back.” More tears hovered on her lashes and slowly slipped down her face. “The photograph of Quinten working.” She pointed and Alex picked it up. She refused to even look at it again so Alex took it with him to the sofa.
“I remembered Quinten caressing my thighs. I also remembered how much the tattoos on his arms and hands intrigued me.” She finally met Alex’s frown with one of her own, knowing that what she was about to say would change everything. “Then I remembered being in that shack. I don’t remember anything about the place because I was blindfolded, but I do remember catching a glimpse from the bottom of the cloth. I remember his hands moving toward me with something silver in them before I felt raw pain...Alex, the man wore clear gloves, and his hands were free of tattoos. I didn’t see any sign of ink.”
Saige would have thought that Alex would be happy to hear that, but instead he looked angry.
“Then why select my brother from a lineup? Why lie? Why sentence my brother to die?” Alex yelled, his gaze stayed unwavering on her, until she felt heat in her cheeks.
Alex was right. Why?
“I’m sorry…I don’t know why. I need to find out though. There are still so many questions that need answers and I think I need to go home and talk to my father.”
“Before we go back to Port Jude, we need to talk to Detective Robinson who was the head detective on my brother’s case. I always had a feeling that he too questioned the evidence, but it was only a feeling, nothing more.”
Alex ran his hands over his head. “I pissed him off. I knew my brother wasn’t guilty, so I wasn’t the easiest person to talk to.” Alex sat down again, dropping all of his weight at once, as though he was drained of energy.
“In which case, let me go and talk to him tomorrow. Maybe he’ll be more open with me, the only surviving victim,” she said softly, trying her best to quell the fire within him.
She could see that he didn’t like her suggestion, but he agreed, “Okay. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up. We can head to Port Jude when you’re finished.”
Saige nodded having no idea what her father would think with her turning up on his doorstep with Alex, but he wanted and deserved answers as well, so she wasn’t about to turn him away.
“How often do you visit your brother?” It hadn’t even entered her head to ask if he did, it was obvious with his love for the man.
“Once a month. I’m due to visit in a couple of days.”
“What will you tell him?”
“The truth—as much as I can without giving him false hope. I can’t lie about everything that’s happened. I need to tell his attorney what you remembered.” He glanced at her and shook his head. “No way. That place isn’t for you. And even if I did agree to take you, they wouldn’t let you in. The red tape you have to go through to get clearance takes around a month, and even then the inmate has to agree.”
He left unsaid that Quinten would be dead before then.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. I’m going to go home and crash for a bit. Give me a call when you’re ready to leave tomorrow.”
He wasn’t the only one exhausted. “Okay.” She watched him leave, wondering if it really would take a month for her to get clearance to visit Quinten.
But if he had loved her, then he’d feel nothing but betrayal toward her now, and she couldn’t remember their love, so would it make any difference if she did visit him?
* * *
10:15pm
* * *
Quinten had finally written the letters that would be given to Alex and Saige after his death. Both of which had been difficult to write because he knew that when they read them, he’d no longer be on this earth.
He didn’t know how he was supposed to feel now, as he looked death in the face. His nerves were high and made him jumpy. Every clang in the prison made his heart race with fear that they were coming for him early…that he wouldn’t get his twenty-eight days. He was afraid. Anyone who said they weren’t at this point in their sentence was a liar.
He was terrified.
* * *
11:55pm
* * *
“What are you doing here?” Alex raised a brow and frowned when Fern Jordan dodged under his raised arm on the doorframe and slipped into his apartment.
At his brother’s defense attorney’s office, he’d expected the leggy woman to come and visit, but his horny ass wasn’t interested right then—revisiting his brother’s trial had a habit of killing his libido.