Chapter 8

As the afternoon wore on, the clubhouse began to fill up. I kept busy pouring drinks and chatting with the regulars, all the while hyper-aware of Talon’s presence. He stayed close, leaning against the bar or playing pool nearby, always keeping me in his line of sight.

Around 6 PM, Jake strolled in, looking more rested than he had this morning. He made his way to the bar, a striking woman following closely behind him. She was tall and slender, with sleek brown hair pulled back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Her soft features were sharpened by her no-nonsense expression and the crisp lines of her expensive-looking dark suit, and her bright red stilettos matched her lipstick. She carried herself with an air of authority that commanded respect.

They made their way over to the bar, and Jake sat down on a stool, nodding toward the whiskey. As I reached to pour him a glass, he said, “Laura, this is Kat. She’s the club’s lawyer.”

“Katherine Sterling,” she said, reaching across the bar to shake my hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Laura. Jake has filled me in on your situation, and I’m here to discuss your legal options.”

I blinked in surprise, glancing between Kat and Jake. “Legal options?”

Kat nodded, her expression serious. “Regarding your divorce and potential charges against your husband for abuse.”

My stomach clenched at the mention of Craig. “Oh. Right.”

“Kat’s the best lawyer in the state,” Jake said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “She’s gotten us out of more than a few tight spots. I’m still not convinced that asshole Craig won’t try something stupid, so I figured it might be time to try the legal route.”

Katherine smiled, her expression softening slightly. “Why don’t we find somewhere a bit quieter to talk?”

Jake nodded, gesturing down the hallway. “You can use my office. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”

I nodded, looking to Trina who waved me off with a smile, and stepped out from behind the bar.

As we made our way across the crowded room, I glanced over my shoulder at Talon and caught his concerned gaze. He raised an eyebrow in question, but I gave him a small smile and a nod to let him know I was okay.

Once inside Jake’s office, Kat settled into one of the chairs against the wall, crossing her legs elegantly. I perched nervously on the edge of the desk, folding my arms loosely across my chest. Glancing around the room, I took in my surroundings - the dark green walls and the knickknacks scattered on shelves. The imposing logo on the wall behind my brother’s desk read ‘Warriors MC’ in creamy white lettering above a flaming skull with crossed pistols underneath.

Kat pulled out a sleek leather portfolio and a pen, her demeanor all business. “Laura, I understand this is a difficult situation, but I need you to be completely honest with me about everything that happened with Craig. The more details you can provide, the stronger the case we can build.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Where should I start?”

“The beginning,” Kat said gently. “When did the abuse start? Was it physical from the outset, or did it escalate over time?”

I closed my eyes, memories flooding back. “It started small,” I said softly. “Little criticisms here and there. Telling me what to wear, who I could talk to. Then it became yelling, throwing things. The first time he hit me was about six months after we got married.”

Kat nodded, a sympathetic look in her eyes. She began scribbling notes. “Did you ever seek medical attention for any injuries?”

I shook my head as a wave of shame washed over me and tears began to well up in my eyes. “No. Craig… he always made sure to hit me where it wouldn’t show. And I was too scared to tell anyone.”

Kat nodded, her expression understanding. “That’s very common in abuse cases. So, you never called the police or filed any reports?”

Again, I shook my head. “No. Craig had friends on the force. He said if I ever tried to report him, no one would believe me.”

Kat finished a few notes before looking up at me. “Laura, I know this is difficult, but I need you to be as specific as possible about the most recent incident. The one that led you to leave.”

I took a shaky breath, steeling myself. The tears were rolling down my face now, but I tried to ignore them. Kat reached for a box of tissues on the desk and handed one to me.

“Thanks,” I began. “It was a little over three weeks ago. Craig and I came home from a charity gala hosted by one of his bigwig real estate clients. I had just changed into my pajamas and poured myself a glass of wine. Craig had had a few too many drinks at the event, and he came storming downstairs from the bedroom and threw a business card at me. He’d found it in my purse. It was from a man that I’d been speaking with at the gala - Chris Zimmerman? He’s the editor for an independent publishing company. I had been chatting with him about how it had always used to be my dream to become a writer, before I met Craig.” I paused, collecting my thoughts.

“Craig was seething. He thought I’d been flirting with Chris and gotten his number for that reason. Before I knew it, I was on the floor. He broke my nose.” I said, gesturing toward the now barely noticeable bruises beneath my eyes. “It was the first time he’d ever hit me in such an obvious spot. I knew I needed to get out of there, or the next time would be worse.”

Kat finished writing and looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and determination. “Laura, I want you to know that what happened to you is not your fault. Craig’s actions are his own, and he alone is responsible for them.”

I nodded, wiping away a stray tear with the tissue. “I know that now. But for so long, I believed him when he said I deserved it.”

Kat leaned forward, her voice firm but gentle. “That’s a common tactic abusers use to maintain control. But you’re incredibly strong for leaving and seeking help. Now, let’s talk about your options moving forward.”

She flipped to a new page in her notepad. “Here’s what I suggest. We’ll file for divorce on the grounds of domestic abuse. We’ll also seek a restraining order to keep Craig away from you. However, without medical records or police reports, it may be challenging to prove the extent of the abuse in court.”

My heart sank at her words, feeling like I had done something wrong. It must have been written on my face, as Kat shook her head. “We can still build a case, but we’ll need to be strategic. Do you have any evidence of the abuse? Text messages, emails, voicemails where Craig threatened you or admitted to hurting you?”

I shook my head. “Nothing like that. Craig was always very careful about covering his tracks. He would never do something so obvious.”

Kat sighed, but I continued. “I did document my injuries. Every time he hit me I took pictures of the bruises. I uploaded them to the cloud and deleted them from my phone before he would notice them. I thought they might come in handy if I ever managed to grow the balls to get away from him.”

She looked at me in shock, placing a hand gently on my knee. “That was incredible foresight on your part, Laura. And it could be exactly what we need to build our case.”