Guilty As Charged, page 1
Guilty As Charged
LOVE AND LAWYERS
BOOK THREE
ALEXA RILEY
Contents
Guilty As Charged
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Say You’re Mine
Chapter 1
Read Me Romance
Stalk the Author
Copyright © 2025 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.
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http://alexariley.com/
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Aquila Editing
Guilty As Charged
BY ALEXA RILEY
Abbie is being harassed online but she doesn't know by whom. On top of that, her contracts with her business partner prevent her from defending herself or tracking down the stalker. Desperate for help, her friend puts her in touch with an attorney to see what her options are. Not only does attorney Spencer Chapman come to her rescue, but he might actually be the hero of her dreams.
Spencer has been into comic books since he was a kid, so when a comic book artist is in need of help, he's all too happy to lend a hand. From the moment, he meets Abbie he knows she's his forever, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe. If she needs a hero, he'll happily be that for her and much, much more.
* * *
Love and Lawyers break all the rules when three best friends find their forever. Come along with us as we throw order out of the courtroom and leave judgement at the door.
Dedicated to our editor Eagle, who still puts up with our bullshit.
Chapter One
ABBIE
Why is this so challenging for me? I pause on the busy sidewalk to try to give myself a pep talk, but it only lasts half a second before I’m nearly knocked over.
“Walk much?” a person mutters in annoyance as they hurry past.
“Sorry,” I say to no one in particular as I step to the side to get out of everyone’s way.
You’d think I didn’t grow up in the city, but I was born and raised here. I used to love it until recently—now not so much. Fear really can rule your whole life if you let it. That’s what today is about. Hopefully I’m going to regain part of my life.
The cops won't do anything, so I'll have to go about this a different way. That's where Scout comes in. I met her a few months back at a comic book convention. Comics weren't her thing, but she was there getting a couple of books as a birthday present for her cousin.
I always dress up when I go to conventions, and she complimented my outfit. When she asked to see more of me in cosplay, we shared Instagram handles. Scout and I messaged casually back and forth for a while, but then my life started to go to shit.
When she noticed that I wasn't posting anymore or replying to people, she became worried and reached out more frequently. Thankfully, we switched over to texting before I shut down my social media altogether. It had to be done for my mental health and possibly my physical health too.
“Hey!” someone shouts, and I lift my head. The hood of my sweatshirt falls back, and I see Scout standing there holding open a glass door. “Come on now.” She motions with her hand like I’m a wild animal she’s afraid to scare off. “It’s safer in here.”
Her sincere smile gets me moving, and I walk inside. “Thanks.”
“I said I’d come get you.” Scout reaches out, giving my shoulder a small squeeze. Her keen eyes assess me, but I wave her off.
“I’m good.” I run my hands down the front of my sweatpants to dry them off. They feel clammy, and I have the urge to turn around and run back home. I’ve become a hermit living behind locked doors all the time.
“You’re not fine.” Scout looks me up and down dramatically.
“Ouch, do I look that terrible?”
“No!” Scout immediately shakes her head. “I meant you’re usually dressed up in some way. At least from the times I’ve been around you and then all of your social stuff.”
“I know.” I puff out a breath.
Scout’s right; this isn’t me. I’ve never been one to wear baggy sweats and not care about my clothes. Fashion feels like art to me, and I choose what to wear based on my mood. I've made some of my own stuff as well since it comes with the cosplay territory.
I guess what I’ve got on matches my mood. I'm hiding myself in every which way, and still the walls are pushing in on me.
"Come on. Let's see how we can help." Scout links her arm into mine and leads the way.
She always looks great too, but more high-end fashion. She’s so put together that if I passed her on the street, I'd think she was a fancy lawyer. She reminds me of those get-ready-with-me videos where everything is perfect when they do their morning and nighttime routines. I bet she’s on one of those schedules that keeps her productive.
"Miss Mann is always allowed up, Clark,” Scout tells one of the two men behind a marble desk. “I'll email you her details." Behind them is a screen listing all the floors in the building with the names next to each floor.
I know jackcrap about law offices and buildings, but this one is really nice. They have to be good to afford it here. I should have googled the firm, but I've been in a funk and staying away from the Internet altogether.
"Hi,” I say to the guards and give them a small wave. They smile politely before Scout takes me over to a bank of elevators. When I see our reflections in the metal, I look at her and then look at me. "I'm so underdressed for this."
"You're fine. It's only my cousin."
"But he's some big-shot lawyer."
"Meh." Scout shrugs, clearly not impressed with her cousin. "Trust me, my cousin loves comic books."
"Not sure that's a good thing." The comic book world is better about women than the gamer world, but there’s still a lingering boys’ club. It's why I'm in this mess to begin with.
“It is. That noncompete you signed is now over. He violated that when he started making passes at you,” Scout says as we step onto the elevator together.
I would make extra money at comic book conventions by doing drawings, and people would often want to take pictures with me when I was dressed up. Between that and social media, I could make an okay living. That’s how I met Geoff.
He was an up-and-coming comic book author. Geoff asked to take a picture with me, and I did a quick drawing for him. We chatted, and he asked about potentially working together. He said he needed help with drawing, and I was excited that he liked my work. Sure, I’d done comics on my own, but I was always too shy to show anyone. I still am.
It started off easy enough. He’d write, and I’d draw the pages. Geoff paid me a flat fee for each image I did for him, and after a few months, he started to really take off. He wanted to do a new series and asked me to sign a contract so that I couldn’t drop out before the series was complete. It seemed simple enough, and at the time, I understood why he would want to have it in place.
It’s my own stupid fault, but I signed the contract not realizing it had a noncompete. In addition to that, it included dressing up in cosplay for conventions and that all costumes had to be approved by him. The clause didn’t make sense because I was ghosting under him. No one knew I was the one creating the art for his comics or connected to him in any way. I didn’t realize it until it was too late and there was nothing I could do.
After I signed that paper and started working on the first book in the series, things got weird. The writing got dirtier, and the details of how he wanted me to draw the main girl made her have an uncanny resemblance to me. Then he gave me notes on how to draw the hero, who he wanted modeled after him. Only taller, with more hair and abs.
Geoff insisted we spend more time together, with me drawing in front of him. It was one thing after another, and before I knew it, he was trying to control all aspects of my life. Even what I could wear. Worse, the comic book series was blowing up, but all I wanted was to get out.
When I told him, he all but lost his mind and was quick to point out the noncompete and that I had a contract to finish with him. He told me he'd take everything I had. Not that there was a ton, but it didn't end there.
I can't prove it's Geoff, but around the same time, I started getting weird threats and aggressive sexual comments on my socials and through email. People would send pictures they created of me in graphic sexual positions. Sometimes with multiple men doing awful things to my image. A few times the commenters would say where I'd been that afternoon or what I'd worn, and that’s when I started to panic.
It all feels connected, but I have no proo
Except it hasn't died for me. In fact, it's getting worse.
Chapter Two
SPENCER
“You know there was a time when you guys were focused on work.” I glare at Landon and Gideon, who seem to find this funny.
“We’re focused.” Landon doesn’t even look up from his phone as he says it. He reads something on the screen, and then I watch him grin slyly before typing. I’d be willing to bet the firm he’s sending dirty messages to his wife.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.” Gideon is on his computer, but instead of running numbers, he’s designing a new greenhouse to go in his back garden.
“If anything, I’m jealous you guys are taking the month off and I’m stuck here,” I huff as I lean back in the chair and glare out at the city.
We’re in our shared office space, but I don’t have much longer before I need to meet my new client. I wasn’t planning on working during our break, but since these two clowns are taking their wives with them, it’s not like I can tag along. I’m not in the mood for a pity invite or to be the fifth wheel. As much as I don’t want to admit it, Gideon’s right. I am jealous.
“For the millionth time, come with us.” Landon puts his phone in his pocket and gives me his full attention. “There’s plenty of room on the yacht.”
“I get seasick,” I say, and Gideon snorts.
“No, you don’t.”
“I could get seasick. Sometimes it develops later in life.” I shrug, and Gideon looks over his laptop screen to raise an eyebrow at me. “And I’ve got a new client.”
“Which you agreed to take on after we told you the dates of the vacation,” Landon adds helpfully.
“It’s a favor to Scout.” It’s a lame excuse to my own ears, but at least they don’t call me on it.
“Suit yourself.” Landon gets up from his chair and grabs his stuff. “But if you change your mind, we’ll be skinny dipping in the Mediterranean while drinking margaritas.”
“Um, rethink that,” Gideon says as he gathers his things. “Number one, the water is freezing, and you don’t want to embarrass yourself. Number two, we roomed together in college, which means I’ve met my life quota of seeing your dong.”
“Skipping the group vacation doesn’t seem like such a bad idea,” I say to Landon, who comes over and gives me a hug.
“Take care of yourself and don’t burn the place down,” he tells me.
“No promises,” I say and hug Gideon too. “Keep an eye on that one.”
“If I come back without him, just know I made it as painless as possible.” Gideon winks at me, and I smile, despite my glum mood.
As soon as they are gone, my heart sinks. Gideon and Landon are my brothers, not by blood but in every other sense. When they’re not around, it feels like a piece of me is missing. With both of them leaving for a few weeks, it’s going to be lonely. They like to give me shit about always being busy and dragging them all over the place, but it’s because they’re my family. Other than Scout, I don’t have anyone else, so as much as I don’t want to crash their couples' vacation, I’m already regretting not going.
Scout knocks on the open door and leans in. “Hey, I thought I’d find you here. I showed Abbie to your office when you’re ready.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in a second.”
Scout leaves, and I take one last look at the shared office space. I doubt I’ll come in here for the next month, which is probably a good thing. The fewer reminders about Landon and Gideon, the better.
Once I’ve got my things, I make my way down the hall to my office. On the way, I focus on what Scout told me about Abbie and her situation. I recall her being harassed by someone who contracted her for illustrations, and it’s since turned into online harassment. Scout didn’t have specific names, just a general idea, so I’m kind of going in blind.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Mann, I’m—” My words stop when I walk in my office, and I see the woman standing in front of my desk staring at me. Her eyes are a soft brown. They're beautiful, but there’s something about them that’s familiar. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know her. “Spencer. I’m Spencer.”
“Abbie,” she says quietly and holds her hand out.
It dawns on me that I’m frozen in place, and I blink a few times before I hold out my hand while walking closer. In my daze, my shoe catches on the rug, and I stumble forward. I barely manage to catch myself on the chair before I tumble down on top of her. The threat of my almost seven-foot frame crashing down on her forces her to jump back and bump into my desk.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I grab on to her upper arms to keep her from going to the ground as I steady myself and straighten. “My feet are so far away from my brain that sometimes they don’t get the message to walk until I’m already in motion.”
She lets out a small laugh, and then her eyes widen like she hasn’t made that sound before. “It’s okay.”
I release her and step back, but the more I look at her, the more certain I am that I know her. But I can tell by the way she pulls the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands and how her shoulders are around her ears that she’s trying to hide. Deciding to take it slow, I walk around my desk and sit down.
“Can I get you something to drink?” She takes a seat in the chair across from me and shakes her head. “All right, then, let’s get started. Scout told me that you’ve had some problems with your previous employer.”
Her laugh this time doesn’t reach her eyes, and it sounds hollow. “You could say that.”
“Scout sent over a copy of the contract, but I wanted to wait and read it.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my client, and I’m here to protect you.” I don’t miss the way her shoulders relax at the reassurance. “The only side of the story that matters to me is yours. Everything you say stays between us, and from here on out, I’m your shield. It’s my job to keep you safe, and I’m going to do everything I can to give you back your power.”
She’s silent for a long moment before a single tear streams down her cheek.
“Oh fuck.” I’m out of my chair and around my desk in two seconds. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, no, it’s actually wonderful to hear.” She’s wiping the tears away as I grab the box of tissues on my desk and hold it out to her. “It’s just that I’ve been really scared for a while now, and it’s just nice to hear that someone wants to help.”
“You’ve been scared?” Scout mentioned harassment from her boss and some stuff online, but Abbie is shaking as she uses the tissue to dry her eyes. “Are you hungry?”
“What?” Her eyes meet mine, and I realize they’re not just brown like I originally thought but have a little green in them too.
“I think we’re going to need some wings.” She looks at me with confusion as I reach over and grab my cell. “I’ve done the research, and it’s easier to talk about painful shit while eating chicken wings. Trust me.”
“Okay,” she says, and I see the barest hint of a smile turning up at the corner of her mouth.
Chapter Three
ABBIE
Spencer is far more charming than I thought he would be. It’s not in a cocky way either. I get a sense of calm from him, like he wants to put me at ease. After only a few minutes with him, I’m already feeling a tad safer.
That, however, is easy to achieve while I’m a million floors up from the city, with security at the front desk. On top of having a very tall, handsome man in a suit who wants to protect and feed me.
