Charlotte pinched her lips together and remained silent for several moments. She looked to Carey.
“Take it. Put them away, and move on,” he said.
She sighed. “Fine. If they’ll take that deal, we’ll be satisfied. But nothing less. Understand?” She pointed a finger at Lincoln’s face.
Lincoln cocked his head. “You know you’re about as physically threatening as a whippet, right?”
“Looks can be deceiving.” I would never forget her metal knuckles with the spiders on them.
Charlotte smirked. “Listen to Scarlett. She has more sense than the two of you put together.”
“I can’t argue with that. But as for this case, the ball’s in their court. If they don’t take the deal, we’ll start the defense phase when the judge takes the bench.”
“I’d love to sit second chair on this. Go all ‘I am the law’ on somebody.” Kennedy grinned at his big brother.
“You know Mom and Dad wanted a girl, right? That’s why they went for three.” A small smile creased the corners of his lips.
Kennedy smirked. “Dick.”
“I believe that’s your claim to fame, not mine.”
“Did you just admit to these two lovely ladies that mine’s bigger than yours?” Kennedy puffed out his chest. “I’m glad you’ve finally set the record straight.”
I covered my face with my hands as Carey snickered.
Lincoln stepped toward Kennedy. “We may be in a courthouse, but I am more than happy to stomp a mudhole in your— Aw, shit. Looks like they want to talk again.” Lincoln walked away and engaged in another conference, this one briefer than the last. On his way back, he pointed to the hallway.
We shuffled out the double doors and stood in the marble rotunda beneath the statue of Justice balancing the scales.
“They’re taking the deal.”
“Life, no parole. Right?” Charlotte asked.
“That’s right.” He pulled out his cell phone and began texting at lightning speed. “I’m having my assistant type up the particulars for the plea. She’ll bring me the agreement, we’ll have them sign, and then take it to the judge. This deal will be sealed within the hour.” He paused his texting. “You’re free to go.”
Charlotte shook her head in amazement. “So, that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
She turned to me and gave me a hug, the tips of her spiky hair tickling my nose. “If you ever want to switch teams, you know where to find me,” she whispered.
I patted her back awkwardly before she let me go. Then she shook Kennedy’s hand.
“I’ll report this to the crew. They’ll be pleased. Now, which prison will the judge send them to?” she asked.
Lincoln pointed to the stairs. “Go. Meet me at the office in the morning to get your paperwork signed on the whistle-blower money. But if I hear so much as a whisper of you hacking again or doing anything to retaliate against Rhone, we’ll be on opposite sides of the courtroom, and I can guarantee you there will be prison time in it for you.”
“Chill. I’m good. We’re good.” Charlotte rolled her shoulders and shot me a wink before hitting the stairs.
“Did she ask you to be her girlfriend?” Kennedy raised his eyebrows.
“Maybe.” I batted my eyelashes.
“Are you considering it?”
“Every lady has her secrets.”
“You are headed for a spanking.” He pulled me closer and bit my neck.
“Cut it out, you two.” Lincoln pocketed his phone, and Carey rolled his eyes.
Kennedy gave me one more nibble and turned to his brother. “Cock block. Hey, now that the hard part’s over, let’s talk about the lingerie you plan to wear on the wedding night. Maybe something to lift and separate here.” Kennedy ran his hands along his brother’s chest before Lincoln slapped them away.
“Jesus, I can’t take you anywhere.” Lincoln laughed.
Their antics always turned me into a teenage girl, giggling into my palm and sometimes laughing so hard, I cried. Even the middle brother, Wash, would join in sometimes despite his reputation for being a hard-ass.
“Ooh.” Kennedy tapped his index finger on his chin. “So definitely a corset? I like it. Daring but also somehow demure.”
“Shut up and get out of here. I’ll see you bright and early Saturday morning.” Lincoln flipped him off and pushed through the courtroom doors, calling over his shoulder, “Good to see you, Scarlett.”
“Well, fuckity fuck fuck.” Evan plopped onto the bench in the bride’s room at Lynch Lane. Her gown, open at the back and skirting across her collarbones in the front, was a dream of white lace.