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Innocent Until Proven Guilty

"Speaking of knowing things…" Kyle said slowly, "You still haven't given me a chance to tell my story." "I know," said Andrea. "I was having too much fun speculating. Finding you like this is a gift, and I don't want to tear the wrapping off all at once. ‘Building up the anticipation makes it better.’" Kyle blinked again, then gave a quiet snort of recognition at his own words being thrown back at him. "So what is your speculation?" Kyle asked. "Oh I don't know, probably something utterly disappointing. Did they pick you up for speeding on the way to the farmers market? I guess that wouldn't explain the uh…" she gestured at his injury again. "It wouldn't explain that now, would it. Oh, I know! You got into a fight over the last piece of bluefin!" Kyle just shook his head slightly. "No? I guess it's too much to hope you did something really exciting like rob a bank—You're not secretly a cat burglar are you, Kyle? Lose your balance breaking into an art gallery? No…?" Kyle looked unamused. "Very funny, Chuckles, would you mind taking this a little more seriously?" "Of course," said Andrea. "Very serious for a lawyer to have been arrested. You could be disciplined. Disbarred! Why, we might not see each other in court anymore. Wouldn't that be a shame." "Wouldn't it though," replied Kyle. "So that's the kind of guy you think I am? Stealing fine art and fighting in fish markets?” Andrea pondered some more. "I know!" she exclaimed. "Did you get into a fight with someone's boyfriend? Did it turn out that you were your young lady's bit on the side, and you ended up having a domestic dispute?" Kyle winced. "Is that it?!" Andrea had been teasing, but it seems like she had touched a nerve. To whatever degree Kyle had seemed like he'd been playing along, even as worn down as he was, that last remark had left him deflated. Kyle hung his head. "It wasn't like that…" "Oh sure, like you haven't been collecting notches on your bedposts." "I'M not like that." "You're not? That's not what your reputation says, out there collecting numbers and breaking hearts. I heard that you were a real ladykil–" "Andrea! I'm not–" Kyle shouted, grabbing her hands. His hands were strong, and his grip so tight it almost hurt. His expression so intense, frustrated and hurt and… scared? Andrea knew she had been twisting the knife a little into something that bothered him, but what had caused this reaction? It was only for a moment, then Kyle seemed to catch himself and let go. He slumped back in his chair and slid his shackled hands back below the table. Andrea leaned back as well, adding to the distance, and folded her arms, no longer smiling. She glanced at the duress button out of the corner of her eye. If Kyle had kept holding her as tightly as he had been, she wouldn't have even been able to reach it. "I think we're ready for storytime now," she said seriously. “I think you had better start at the punchline. What have you been charged with, Mr Wynn?" Kyle took a deep breath before he raised his head once more. "Murder, Ms Mason. First Degree Murder." *** Andrea Mason, a defense attorney who cares more about justice and protecting her clients than just winning cases. But the one man she hates to lose to is her rival, the arrogant prosecutor, Kyle Wynn. Kyle represents everything Andi hates about unscrupulous win-at-all-costs lawyers, and for years they have traded arguments in the courtroom and barbs in the hallways. Their paths cross again when they find themselves on a high-profile murder trial. As much as Andrea might despise Kyle, she can’t believe it when HE is charged with the horrific murder. But she is even more shocked when he asks for her to represent him at trial… *** #SLOWBURN #STRONGFL #CRIME #MURDER #FLIRTY #ROMANCE If you want to know what to expect, check the reviews! ฅ^-ﻌ•^ฅ Burrito says to join here: https://discord.gg/qr7eUnxT2F

slowestcook · Urban
Not enough ratings
249 Chs

No Time to Think

The last time Kyle had seen Adams, he'd been in court. In a suit. Hunched over like he was trying to make himself look small.

Not anymore. Now he was standing to his full height in an orange prison jumpsuit, tied at the waist, and a white undershirt—sleeveless, like his biceps were too big for mere sleeves to contain.

What had his Muay Thai instructor taught him about breaking grapples?

Fight the hands, avoid the cinch—Too late for that.

Break the grip—Adams' arms were like iron bars, there was no breaking free easily.

Knee strike to the ribs? Kinda relied on feet that touched the floor, Kyle's did not at this moment.

Elbow strike to the head? Illegal move, instant disqualification in a tournament. But there wasn't exactly a referee around right now…

Adams' eyes narrowed. He pulled his fist back, ready to strike…

No time to think. Sorry, Andrea…