Survive and Conquer

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  More from Andrew Grey

  Readers love Andrew Grey

  About the Author

  By Andrew Grey

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  Survive and Conquer

  By Andrew Grey

  Newton DeSantis was on the ground when the towers collapsed on 9/11. Though he still carries the scars on his body and his heart, he’s determined to ease some of the world’s suffering. Now a social worker and father to two children with special needs, he’s doing his best. But when his son’s health takes a drastic turn, Newton knows he can’t do it alone.

  Family law attorney Chase Matthews is a rising star, and he’s in high demand. Still, Newton is very persuasive, and Chase takes his case pro bono. Everything about the other man appeals to Chase, but he’s determined to keep the relationship professional—even though, after meeting Newton’s kids, he wants to be a part of their lives.

  Chase’s job doesn’t always allow him to pick his clients, though, and a case that could make him partner will put him on the opposite side of the courtroom from Newton—along with everything he believes in and the future they could build together.

  To Chris, who bared a part of herself that she normally keeps hidden in order to help me get a handle on these characters. You have more strength and heart than I can express with words.

  Chapter 1

  “ROSIE, YOU need to hurry or you’re going to miss the bus.” Newton DeSantis checked his watch for what felt like the millionth time in the last minute.

  “I’m coming, Daddy,” Rose called back, coming down the stairs. She had insisted on dressing herself, and Newton thought his eyes were going to bleed out all over the floor. Pink, orange, neon purple—all on his kid at the same time. “I dressed like a unicorn,” she said as she reached the bottom, then turned around as though she were a ballerina on stage.

  Newton wiped his brow of the sweat that threatened, but then shrugged the worry away. So what? If she wanted to wear that outfit, he wasn’t going to fight her. Newton was smart enough to pick his battles with his seven-year-old daughter, and this wasn’t one of them.

  “Eric,” he called.

  His son came in from the family room with a soft grumble, where he had undoubtedly been playing video games. He had his backpack, was dressed, and even looked ready. “Are you ready to go, Rosie?” Eric asked as he came over to take her hand. She pulled her hand back. Rosie wanted to be a big girl and was at the “I want to do everything myself” stage. Eric, at nine, just wanted to get where he wanted to go, frustration building.

  “Remember the rules, Rosie,” Newton admonished lightly. Both of them had said they were big enough to walk themselves to the bus stop. Apparently some of the kids at school had been giving Rosie a little grief and calling her a baby or some such crap. “You need to stay with Eric until you get on the bus.” Not that he wasn’t going to be watching, but neither of the kids needed to know that.

  “Yes, Daddy,” she said with an epic roll of her eyes.

  He got a hug from each of them, and then Rosie and Eric left the house and walked just down the street. They would get on the bus in front of Mrs. Tanner’s house, and Newton knew she would be watching as well. She always made sure the kids were safe. It was probably a habit from when her kids were little. Newton watched from the front door and waited for the bus to come down the street. His kids got on, and he turned away. He closed and locked the front door before taking his bag and heading through the house toward the back, using his cane to take some of the weight off his aching left foot.

  Newton got into his car in the garage, putting his things inside, and backed out, grateful for the new door opener he’d gotten himself for his last birthday. With the door closed, he continued on to work.

  Today was a courthouse day, and he was never a huge fan of those. Newton had given testimony on many occasions, and that never bothered him too much—it was familiar territory. What he didn’t like was the uncertain outcomes. As a social worker, he spent his days mostly with women who were trying to get themselves, and often their children, out of bad home situations. The case today should be fairly cut and dried, but with hearings, attorneys, and judges, he had learned he could never truly predict an outcome.

  The unpredictability was what he hated. Newton had come to rely on order, routines, and as much normalcy as he could get in his life. As few surprises as he could muster was an incredible pleasure. Still, he loved his job and the fact that he was helping people. It was what he had been driven to do for the last nearly eighteen years.

  He parked in the courthouse lot, took a deep breath, and slowly got out of the car, bringing his case and his cane along with him.

  Newton hated the fact that he had to use the damned cane, but it was becoming a fact of life and there was very little he could do about it. He’d asked about surgery, but he’d had plenty of those already, and now the doctors simply shook their heads, telling him there was nothing more they could do. Just another in a long line of issues he had to incorporate into his life. So that was what he did—worked with what he had and kept moving forward.

  “Morning,” Newton told the security officers at the courthouse door as he placed his things on the belt to be scanned. Then he walked through the scanner, which of course went off the way it did each time. Newton stepped to the side, and they wanded him before letting him get his things and move on. It was the same routine each time, and even though all of the security men knew him, he went through it because it was their job. In a way, the routine made him feel safer inside the building, even though deep down he knew it was a false safety. If someone were determined…. He pushed that thought from his mind and headed for the elevator to the second floor.

  TWO HOURS later, Newton sat on a hard seat in the back and tried not to squirm and drop his cane from his lap, even though his leg kept falling to sleep. The lawyers were arguing the merits of their cases, and since Newton had already testified, he got to sit in the courtroom. He kept his hands in his lap, but his fingers were restless, since he channeled all his nervous energy into them.

  The client involved in this hearing wasn’t one of Newton’s, but because of the circumstances, he had been asked to testify, and now he was invested in the outcome. By rights, he should have left and let the justice system do its thing, but he couldn’t.

  Okay, if he was honest with himself, part of the reason for him staying was the case and another part was because he got to watch Chase Matthews in action. Chase was an attorney, and in this case, he had been assigned by the judge to represent a client of Newton’s colleague Jill. The man was eloquent and passionate, and when he turned to where Newton could view him, Newton swore he could see his intense blue-gray eyes from across the room. The man had presence and was a legal force of nature. He didn’t just talk—he used his entire body, his whole being, putting everything he had into each sentence, each argument, and did it with the sheer magnetism of his presence. It was enticing and enthralling to watch, like an actor giving the performance of their life as Hamlet, or a figure skater presenting a program in the Olympic final that left the viewers breathless.

  Newton checked his watch and sighed. As much as he wanted to stay, he needed to get back to work. Sitting around watching Chase do his job was not the best use of his time. He quietly got up, walked to the door, pulled it open, and stepped outside. He made sure it closed silentl
y and then went down the hall, where he placed his things on a bench. He took his phone out of the bottom of his bag and turned it on. There were four voicemails, and he skimmed through the text-to-speech so he could return the call that was most important.

  “Angela, what’s going on?” he asked as soon as she answered. He could almost feel her panic coming through the phone. Gasps reached his ears, following by heaves of breath.

  “His parents—” She gulped, then gasped some more.

  “It’s okay. Just take a minute and breathe. Whatever it is, we’ll be all right. I promise you.” Newton sat down, his patience coming forward. “Are you okay? Do I need to get you some help?”

  “Yes. But I’m okay. I can talk now.” She was still seconds from breathlessness. “I’m sorry to bother you.” She now sobbed into the phone, and Newton wished he was there with her to try to comfort in person. But that wasn’t possible at the moment.

  “Are you home alone?” Newton tried to think who he could get to be with her. Angela was a new client, and she had been left very much alone after her world, and everything she thought was real, had been pulled out from under her nine months ago. Her case had been reassigned to him a month ago because the previous caseworker had been useless and was let go.

  “Yes. I’ll be okay.” She seemed stronger now.

  “Put down the phone, go get yourself a tissue, and have a drink of water. Don’t forget to breathe, and then you pick up the phone again and tell me what happened.” He kept his own worry out of his voice. Angela needed him to be strong and calm and to keep the darkness that lingered around the edges of his consciousness like constantly moving tendrils at bay. Most of the time he was very good at that, but strong emotion seemed to give them force, and they’d try to grow and work their way forward. He could already feel his jitteriness increasing, but he looked around the marble-lined hall, with its imposing size and decoration, drawing strength from the solidity of the building.

  She stepped away, and when she returned, she spoke more clearly. “Reggie’s parents have decided that they’re going to fight me for custody of Marcie and Debbie.” She sniffed but remained in control. “They’re going to try to prove I’m unfit.”

  Newton had heard this tactic before. “First, that’s very difficult to do and isn’t going to happen.” Angela had issues with alcohol as well as mental health, all of which she was getting help for. She was eight months sober and had her AA chip to prove it. She carried it with her everywhere she went. And she had been taking her meds for years.

  “They told me they are also going to enter the divorce as Reggie’s advocates. They feel that their son’s rights need to be protected and that he should be able to see his children.” The quivering in her voice was back.

  “Okay. First thing, grandparents have no parental rights in this state. And second, do they understand that Reggie isn’t interested in those girls? He admits he never wanted to be a parent. Are they completely stupid?” He shouldn’t have asked the last question, but it slipped out. “They do realize that he actually said that in court? What do they expect, that they’re going to force him to see the girls?” Reggie had left when the strain of the kids became more than he could stand.

  “I don’t know. But I need to get a lawyer, and I can’t afford one. There’s barely enough money to keep the girls and me fed and a roof over our heads.” She sniffed. “I actually thought about walking to the store around the corner as soon as the girls left for school. I called my sponsor instead, but….” The tears were so close once again, and Newton wanted to try to help her feel better.

  “They can’t do anything right away. You stay calm and go to a meeting. Get yourself surrounded by supporters. As for a lawyer, I’ll check at the office and see what resources I can call on.” He wasn’t sure what he could do, but Newton would try. Angela and her family had already been through hell for the last year after being abandoned, and they didn’t deserve more. “I need to go because court is letting out and I need to be quiet, but I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” He hung up after she agreed. Newton dropped his phone in his bag and would have gotten up to hobble to the exit, but his foot ached, so he turned to elevate it on the bench for a few minutes and closed his eyes. He just needed some time for the blood to start flowing normally again.

  The door to the courtroom opened, and Chase Matthews strode out, looking amazing in a suit that probably cost as much as Newton made in a month. The man had style and knew how to dress, which made him look damn fine, that was for sure.

  Newton scrambled off the bench and hobble-ran up to him. “Mr. Matthews.”

  Chase stopped, turning around, his electric gaze falling onto Newton, sending a thrill running up his spine. “Can I help you?” he asked in a voice that could melt butter.

  “Not me, but one of my clients,” Newton said as he used the cane for balance. “She needs a lawyer, and….”

  Chase shook his head. “Oh no. I’ve done my pro bono work for the year, and I have real clients that I need to get to work on.” The eyes that Newton had thought so intense and expressive grew cold, and he suppressed a shiver. “I only took this case because I was required to by Judge Harker.” He turned to walk away, but Newton was pissed off enough that he grabbed his arm. “Now see here—”

  “Look. I have a mother with two kids who need help, desperately. She’s trying to keep her children. Her husband, soon to be ex, is in prison for abusing those adorable girls, and now she’s got to fight his parents because they feel their son’s rights aren’t being represented.” Newton didn’t let go, and he did his best to ignore the woodsy cologne that wafted around him.

  “I’ve done my part. I have a practice that I need to return to and clients who are paying me to represent them. I can’t just take on another case like that right now. I’m sorry, but I’ve done what I can.” Chase shrugged off Newton’s hand, strode toward the elevator, and pressed the call button. Newton got his bag and made his way over to join Chase as he waited. “God, this is slow.”

  “Yes, I know. That gives me plenty of time to try to convince you to change your mind.” Newton flashed a little smile.

  “You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” Chase asked, turning back to watch the doors, probably willing them to slide open so he could get away.

  “If I did, I wouldn’t be able to help my clients. And these people need help. Angela’s in-laws have money, and they are willing to use it to get their way and do what isn’t in the interest of these girls. They were five and seven when their father abused them.” Newton was laying it on thick, but in his job, often all he had was the human angle, and he was very good at tugging at people’s heartstrings.

  The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped inside. Chase pushed the button to go down, and the doors slid closed. Newton knew he had just a few seconds to make his case before Chase made his escape. “You know justice isn’t fair, as much as we hope it can be….”

  “Life isn’t fair,” Chase said, then sighed. “I can’t take on any more work right now. My caseload is full and I’m working twelve-hour days as it is.” He shifted his weight.

  “And you’re not the only one.” Newton looked down at his old suit and partially rumpled shirt because he hadn’t had enough time to iron it that morning, with breakfast to make, getting the kids off to school… everything.

  “I’m sorry.” Chase stepped off the elevator and was about to walk away.

  Newton was desperate. “When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal?” It was a Hail Mary shot, but he had to go for it. Guys like Chase ate out or at their desk, and the food they consumed could be pretty crappy. Newton would know, because he did the same thing when he was at work.

  Chase stopped and turned around.

  “Come over to the house, meet Angela, and then you can decide. I’ll even cook.”

  Chase rubbed his temple, and Newton could tell he was trying to make a choice. “I….”

  “What have you got to lose, except y
our taste buds?”

  Chase smiled, and Newton knew he had him. He reached into his bag, got a card, and handed it to Chase, who got a card from his pocket and handed it over after writing a number on the back as well.

  “I know I’m probably going to regret this,” he said with a half smile.

  “Maybe,” Newton teased, pleased he had gotten a shot. “I’ll text you my address. So, tomorrow at six?”

  Chase agreed, then turned, striding hurriedly out of the courthouse.

  His mother had been right: “If you feed them, they will come.”

  Granted, he wasn’t totally convinced that Chase wouldn’t blow him off with some excuse that sounded really urgent, but he had gotten his foot in the door, and that was probably all he could expect.

  Newton left the courthouse, heading to his car. Once he was inside, he texted Chase his address, the time, and asked if he was allergic to anything. Then he made a call to Angela.

  “I think I might have found you a lawyer.”

  “A good one?” she asked.

  “If he’ll take the case, one of the best. I’ve lured him to my house with the promise of food, but I’m not a really good cook. I’ve spent the last decade either making bottles or cooking for the kids and eating what they have.” Newton felt a little bad about misrepresenting himself, but he could get high-end takeout and serve it on his own plates if he had to. “You and the girls come to dinner tomorrow. I want him to see your family and see it’s worth his while to help you.” It was harder to turn someone down face-to-face. “He’ll be here at six, so come a little early. This is a full-court family-and-kids press.”

  Angela laughed. It was still tense, but with a hint of happiness around the edges. “You’ll sure go to lengths to get what you want.”

  “I try.” Newton ended the call and started his car, going to his office to try to get a full day’s work done in an afternoon.