You might want to start learning how to top from the bottom. Immediately…

He hangs up.

He hangs up as my mouth runs dry and my eyes narrow to slits on the night splattered road. What the fuck? What the fuck? My heart starts to thump painfully as I see the trap I've fallen head over heels into. I know that boy. I godamned raised that boy. Turned him into the man he is today. I know him, I know how his mind works… how devious he can be. Gripping the steering wheel so tight that the whites of my knuckles show, I close my eyes and force the panic down to the pit of my stomach where it belongs. I didn't want to do it, I wasn't going to do it…

But he's left me no choice.

McCallum answers on the third ring.

"Mrs Lincoln?"

His voice is wearied. He despises me, we both know it and we both pretend that we don't. I fear he sees the truth, sees through my cleverly crafted defences. He is the best that money can buy, he cares not for guilt or innocence. But people, all people, are kings on high when it comes to kids and their misconceptions of the different types of love out there. I loved Christian. I loved him so much that my heart nearly burst at the seams with adoration. But he turned on me. What could I do but defend myself? Who is McCallum to judge me?

He defends murderers for fucks sake.

If I'm guilty of anything, its caring for the boys no one wants, the forgotten ones.

"McCallum, we have a problem."

The recounting of the devious little bastard's trickery doesn't take long. I choose my words carefully, concentrating on the inky blackness of the road in front of me to keep my cool. Betrayal simmers just below the surface, though. The image of that smug little tart, that ADA Steele plague me. She's barely old enough to drink and there she is, with those perky twenty-something breasts and those high cheekbones, dragging my good name through the dirt in open court. She's good, even I have to admit that, McCallum too. She's a clever little bitch and she knows how to work a crowd.

But she'll never get another opportunity to smear me in front of that jury.

By the time I'm finished pulling out my wild card, court will be very much cancelled.

I finish my summation, ensuring McCallum knows just the type of asshole we're dealing with. I thought I could save Christian Grey. I thought I could rescue the gray-eyed beauty that fell into my lap like a neatly wrapped present. But he was too far damaged, I see that now. He was too far gone. His mother, that crack-addled whore, she ruined him. I patched him up as best I could, but the rot set in deep all those years ago and the result is the adult Christian, a thankless, two-faced bastard.

Well, he won't get the better of me.

Not me.

McCallum doesn't answer me straight away. My teeth click together in anger. I don't have time for this shit. I don't have time for stunned pauses, for deep and contemplative thinking. I pay this fucker exorbitant rates for a quality service, I don't pay him to sit in silence like a fucking Monk when the tides are turning and I'm in danger of being hit square in the jaw with a bloody tsunami. I give him one more second and then let loose with a snarl down the phone, tearing the car around and turning it in the direction of his house.

For what I'm paying him, he won't fucking object.

"McCallum? Are you there? I don't have time for your stupid meditation right now, damnit! My life is falling apart. Look, I'm on the way to your place now. We need to think about what we're going to do, talk about it. I didn't want to play this card but he's left me no choice… it's up to you to figure out how we can use it. I'll be there in twenty minutes, thirty tops and you better-"

"No."

His voice is low and slow but it might as well have been a bellow.

I blink into the night and remain stricken and silent for a moment. What the hell does he mean, no? No, what? Steam is close to pouring out from my ears, flames are close to spitting from my eyes. It's the middle of the night and I need help, I need advice and this prick is telling me no?

I don't think so.

"What the hell do you mean, no?" I snarl, increasing the pressure on the accelerator, pushing the car so hard and so fast that it groans underneath me. "McCallum, did you misunderstand me? He has me on tape, he has me on tape… saying things. Things that could be misconstrued, things that could be used to paint me as… something I am not. I'm sure that by now, Christian will have got in contact with that stuck-up little tart of an ADA and the two of them will have their little heads together, thinking of new ways to ruin my life. So, what the hell do you mean when you say no? Have you forgotten how much I'm paying you?"

He doesn't answer straight away.

The silence stretches and stretches until it vibrates around me.

"You really did it, didn't you?"

The usual swagger in his tone is all but gone. The bounce and the sass, the quick wit and the sharp syllables are completely AWOL. In their stead… is a flat, monotonous tone of contempt. I can feel my irises dilate with pure, pulsating rage.

"What?"

This time, he doesn't hesitate.

"You really molested him and all the others? Christian, Matthew… this Ethan boy. You preyed on them all, didn't you? Lured them into your home and into your world, beat and abused them on a daily basis within mere minutes of their parents? I convinced myself that innocent until proven guilty still meant something to me, because I saw dollar signs when you came to me. I saw them big and I saw them green. But I saw the truth in that kid's eyes, I saw the truth in ADA Steele's opening arguments… and I chose to ignore it. I was being paid and I was being paid handsomely… what did I care about the truth?"

I forget to breathe.

But he's not done.

"I'm a despicable man, Mrs Lincoln. I do and say terrible things, I defend the sickest and the cruellest people in this city, in this country. I do it because I like my lifestyle, I like to wine and dine in the nicest restaurants, court the prettiest girls that are young enough to be my daughters. I accept blood money, left right and centre and I don't lose a wink of sleep because of it. That is until… you. Now it's different. Now I see that the drug dealers and the racketeers, the gangs and the traffickers… they've got nothing on you. You've kept me up at night, you've taken away my luxury of self-appointed ignorance…"

His judgement shimmers in the night air around me.

"The things you've done, the debased and sickening things… the things I've read, the things I've heard… that I can never un-read or un-see, they haunt me. You took those boys when they were at their lowest ebb and you signed the death warrant of their childhoods. Then you sit in a crowded courtroom and label your victim a nutcase, an attention seeker. You create turmoil in his family, you tear them apart and this you do, all of it, with my counsel and my blessing…"

His voice takes on a hard hue.

"But not anymore. I am a cruel, empty, husk of a man. I am not a hero and I will more than likely die alone and miserable. But I will not die knowing that I helped you protest your innocence between the hours of nine to five and then waved you off to rape and abuse another innocent boy. I can't, I can't and I won't. I am coming off record as your counsel, Mrs Lincoln. I will no longer take your calls or appear on your behalf in court. Furthermore, and of this I doubt you are aware, but there are certain… lacunas in attorney-client privilege. I cannot divulge the crimes of your past as you have alluded to me, but I can and will divulge the crimes of the present… the crimes you're committing against Ethan. State law not only permits but requires me to break confidentiality when I believe that there is a reasonable suspicion that my client is committing or will commit, a crime."

The air leaves my lungs.

The cars slows to a crawl on the now deserted road of blackness.

Not even a street lamp surrounds me.

The small, timid squeak I hear is one that I cannot recognise as being my own.

"What?"

He doesn't miss a single beat.

"This is where we part ways, Mrs Lincoln," McCallum says slowly and clearly. "I am no longer your attorney and as soon as I conclude this call, which is recorded by the way, I will be contacting the Seattle P.D. with a view to reporting the current abuse of this boy, Ethan. I imagine it won't be hard to track him down. Regardless, in the matter of the State v Elena Lincoln… I am no longer an attorney of record. The wild card, as you call it, will be diffused. You need me for that and I refuse to be a party to it."

Air.

I have no air.

The car comes to a complete halt.

"Frank? Frank, you can't do this to me. What do you care about morality? Is it the money? Do you want more money? Because I can get you more money, I can get you-"

He cuts me off.

"Goodbye, Mrs Lincoln."

The call disconnects and I am alone.

All alone.

…

A/N: If you'd like a sneak peek of the next chapter just leave a "sneak peek please" in a review and I'll PM you soon!

Today's recommendation is Unexpected Everything by stargazer93. This is yet another amazing story by an amazingly talented author and all round super human being! I absolutely implore you all to check it out, all her work is crazy, crazy good!

What's to become of Elena now? Find out, next time!

Inks x

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