Forever & More: The Friend Zone series (21 page)

“Mr. Lucas has been accused of many things throughout these proceedings, but the one thing that he has not been accused of, is of being innocent. The substantial evidence and eyewitnesses that have been stacked up against him are all indicators of his guilt. I urge you to hold this man accountable for his actions. Give the victims of this unfortunate crime justice.” He nods curtly to the jury and takes his seat.

It seems like an eternity before the defense attorney stands. My nails bite into my palms and I hold my breath while I wait for him to speak. The grey suit walks across the room. His pale skin takes on a sickly hue under the florescent lights.

“Judge,” he greets. “Members of the jury.” He nods. “Today when you enter the chamber to come to your verdict, I want you to ask yourself, do you truly have all of the facts about this trial? Too often, one key detail is looked over, possibly misunderstood, or handled wrong. Mr. Lucas is looking at twenty to life. Is there one niggling doubt in your mind that one of the facts has been overlooked or tampered with? Is there any question in your mind about the evidence that was provided to you? Is a life sentence really what my client deserves? The only other witness besides the PD is dead your honor. There were multiple shots fired from multiple guns, who's to say that it was my clients that fired the first round? My client could have been there as a victim in that situation. Is it right to charge a man for a crime he may not have committed? Remember the term, without a reasonable doubt. Is there any doubt?” He returns to his seat.

I find it odd that that he didn’t mention any of the other crimes, I can tell by the whispers between the DA that they are all just as stunned as I am. The room becomes a flurry of hushed voices, all wondering what is going on.

Judge Maxwell slams her gavel against the wood several times before she threatens to remove everyone from the room if they cannot remain quiet.

“We are going to take a recess and will re-adjourn once the jury has come to its decision.” The judge once again slams her gavel and stands. Her prompt exit is followed by the jury. Todd is rushed out of the room. Sara, Harley, and I wait in our seats for the room to clear. Once there is only a few people left in the room, I call to Mr. Catledge.

“What happened? It seemed like Todd’s lawyer just gave up. Not that I’m complaining, it just caught me off guard.” I’m not sure why I’m even mentioning it, I should be grateful.

“Chloe, between you and me. Sometimes it’s just easier to admit defeat. What that man did to you and all the drug trafficking is enough to put him behind bars for life. Sometimes it’s not worth the fight and you need to know when to admit you lost. Sometimes helping a client isn’t the right thing to do. We still have consciences, ya know.” He laughs and then continues, “I would get out of here and grab something to eat if I were you. This could take a while. I will call you as soon as the verdict is in and they call us back to the courtroom.”

“Yeah, I’m starved. That sounds like a great idea.” Sara bounces excitedly from her chair. We all laugh at her enthusiasm. Harley grabs Sara’s chair as we all say our goodbyes. I trail behind them, lost in all things Skye.

I was sure he would have come to the trial, but I didn’t see him. He could have been in the back of the room, I guess. I didn’t really pay much attention to the people seated back there, so it’s a very good possibility. Was he with Jay? I hope he wouldn’t do that, knowing the hurt it would cause me, but he did leave with her yesterday. I don’t know how he could’ve done that in front of my face. How could he move from me to someone else so quickly, knowing that I’m carrying his child?

A small, salty drop of liquid trails down my cheek. I reach up and wipe it away. This time, when we enter the hallway, there are several police officers and no press. I’m beyond relieved for the lack of chaos. We enter the elevator and make the short ride up to the level we parked on. When we climb off the cart, I stumble in the threshold but quickly catch myself.

I look up and see Sara and Harley a few steps in front of me, both waiting for me to catch up. Something moving catches my eyes. A tall, muscular frame is walking around the corner. His dark hair and build look identical to Skye’s. It couldn’t be, could it? My stomach begins to flutter as I shout at him to wait up.

I race in his direction, leaving Harley screaming at me to come back and to wait. I don’t listen to a word they say. My mind and body are on a mission and that’s to get to him. When I turn the corner, he’s gone. I drop to my knees, sobbing loudly. It was him, I know it was. How could he walk away from me like that?

Strong arms embrace me, then help me stand. Before any words can be uttered, my phone goes off. I dig frantically in my purse for the device. When I finally pull it out, an unknown number is displayed on the screen.

“Hello?” I carefully ask.

“The verdict is in. They are giving everyone an hour to get back to the courthouse,” Catledge replies.

“Already? Wow, thank you.” I stumble all over my words.

“Don’t get your hopes up just yet. It just means they reached a decision. Not that the decision is in our favor. I will be waiting in the lobby when you get back.”

I tell him okay and we end the call. I relay the conversation to Sara and Harley and we race back to the courtroom.

None of us says a word as we pass through the pristine white hallways and vaulted ceilings. As much as I try to convince myself that I’m okay, I know I’m not. My thoughts wage war with each other. Images of Skye walking away from me in the parking garage haunt me, thoughts of Todd being hauled away to spend his days in a concrete room lined with bars lifts my spirits. The up and down motion of my thoughts cause me to become nauseous.

I focus on my feet steadily walking across the large marble squares. I run into the back of Harley and realize we’ve reached the room we just left. He opens the door and we enter. I do the same thing I did the last time when I entered this room. Thirteen stripes, fifty stars, one pole, one ball and one eagle reigning from its golden perch. A symbol of liberty, freedom, justice, and hope. I can only pray that the flag that represents this justice system sways in my favor.

We slide in our familiar seats and sit quietly, waiting for everyone else. One by one, over the next half hour, people begin to trickle into the room. A thick, anxious air hangs heavy in the room, fogging up the space and making it difficult for me to breathe. Someone slides in next to me and when I look over to see who it is, I’m staring into the face of none other than Brady. Kasey slides in next to him a second later, followed by the rest of the employees at BAR. Erin & Anna smile sincerely in my direction.

“How you holdin’ up, girly?” Kasey asks, breaking the silence.

“I’m here. You doin’ all right?” I ask. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Kasey, but he looks exactly the same. Young, muscular, and happy. The lights in the room make his red hair glow a vibrant, burnt orange color that settles just below his chin.

“It’s almost over. Then you can really put this shit behind you and move on,” Brady comments and I nod.

“Where’s Skye?” I can’t help but ask. The unknown is killing me. Everyone is here but him and Jay. Are they together right now? Why would he miss the verdict? After everything that’s happened, it just makes absolutely no sense to me that he’s not here. Is she the reason he’s not here? Did she give him some sort of ultimatum?

Something about Skye missing just doesn’t feel right, but I don’t know if it’s because it’s out of character or if it’s because I feel abandoned.

Brady doesn’t meet my eyes when he tells me he hasn’t spoken to Skye. I don’t dig though; I would do the same for Sara if I needed to. It’s not Brady’s fault I pushed Skye away. I, unfortunately, have to own up to that one.

Catledge enters the room and sets his briefcase on the table in front of me.

“I was waiting for you in the lobby.” Shit, I forgot he was going to wait on me out there.

“I’m sorry, I was so focused on getting in here I didn’t think about it. Is there a particular reason you wanted to meet with me? Do we have time to step in the hall?” I fire at him.

“No, it’s all right. I was going to give you a quick briefing on how this usually plays out, but I’m sure you’ve seen something close to it on television. Since this is the state versus him, it pertains to you but at the same time, it doesn’t. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. I understand exactly what you’re saying,” I reply.

Todd enters the room, escorted by his police entourage, and Brady grabs my hand. I try pull from his grasp but his grip tightens. I realize that he’s not holding on to me for my sake, it’s more for him. If he lets go, I fear he may fly across the room and end up in his own set of cuffs. I link my fingers with his and give his vice-like fingers a small reassuring squeeze.

He gives my pink manicure a confused look, like he didn’t realize he was gripping my hand. I squeeze again to silently let him know that it’s okay.

The next several minutes are filled with more people entering the room and eventually the judge is seated on her throne. Judge Maxwell goes through her speech about why we are here.

“Please bring the jury in,” she announces.

One by one, all twelve of the selected and sworn individuals enter the room, they remain standing.

“Todd Philip Lucas, the defendant has been charged with first-degree home invasion; assault with a deadly weapon with the intent to kill; intent to commit vehicular manslaughter in the first degree; possession with the intent to distribute. All are felony charges. If the defendant is found guilty, he will be sentenced twenty to life with no chance of parole. Mr. Lucas has plead not guilty to first-degree home invasion; guilty to assault with a deadly weapon; not guilty to intent to commit vehicular manslaughter; not guilty to the possession charge. Jury, have you reached your verdict? Will the elected foreperson please stand?”

A man with silver hair, a full beard, and a large but soft frame stands. He hands a paper over to the bailiff, who in turn takes it to the judge.

She silently looks over every piece of paper before looking down at Todd from her bench. Her eyes stay on him for a moment before switching to the jury box and back to the foreman.

“Mr. Foreman, this is the verdict that has been unanimously decided?” she asks.

“Yes, Your Honor,” the man nervously announces.

“And everyone agrees to this verdict?” she asks all twelve jurors.

They all nod their head in unison.

Judge Maxwell begins to read from the documents in front of her. “As to the charge of first-degree home invasion, we the jury, find the defendant guilty, so say we all.” She continues with the rest of the courtroom jargon of case numbers and dates and the location of the courthouse, all of which I don’t hear once the word guilty left her mouth.

She continues, catching my attention again, “As to the charge of assault with a deadly weapon, we the jury, find the defendant guilty, so say we all.”

I zone out the mutters in the room and only focus on her words, “intent to kill.” I’m chewing so angrily on my fingernails I can taste a twinge of blood.

“We the jury, find the defendant guilty, so say we all,” she continues and I exhale a lung full of stale oxygen.

The charges continue, intent to commit vehicular manslaughter in the first degree and possession with the intent to distribute. My eyes begin to sting with unshed tears as I hear the verdict being read after each charge—guilty. I grip Brady’s hand so tightly I can feel his knuckles pop but he doesn’t say a word.

I can breathe clean, fresh, precious oxygen. A weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and I feel free.

“Todd Philip Lucas, you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers on all accused accounts. First-degree home invasion, assault with a deadly weapon with the intent to kill, intent to commit vehicular manslaughter in the first degree and possession with the intent to distribute. You are hereby sentenced to life with no chance of parole. I also grant Miss Thomas’ request for a restraining order. You are prohibited from contact or communication with Miss Thomas now or in the future. Juror’s, thank you for serving this court, you are free to go.” She slams the gavel for the last time.

The jurors stand and begin to exit. No one says a word until Todd is being hauled away. He starts fighting the guards.

“You stupid bitch! You think this is over? Not by a fucking long shot!” he screams.

Brady places a protective arm around me and I turn into his embrace. Todd is dragged out of the courtroom and Brady whispers in my ear. “I’ve got you, C. He can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” The words sound wrong coming from his mouth. That isn’t his promise to make me. I give him an awkward smile and step from his grasp.

Sara’s arms extend in front of her and I fall into her lap, wrapping my arms around her neck. We cry tears of joy and relief. It’s really over. My life is going to be mine again. No longer will I be haunted by what may be lurking around the corner. I don’t have to worry about Todd catching up to me and making my life hell.

“It’s finally over,” I breathe a sigh of relief and whisper into her neck.

Guilty! That’s the only word I hear outside of the courtroom. I didn’t go inside like I had done earlier today. I couldn’t risk it again. Running from Chloe in the parking garage was the second hardest thing I’ve ever done. The first being letting her go after what she tried to do to my child. It’s only been one day since I went into
hiding
, as Harley puts it, but it feels like an eternity.

I can hear people cheering from the other side of the door, I should be in there cheering with them. Congratulating Catledge for a job well done and hugging my friends in victory, but it’s not possible. She’s probably searching me out right now and I can’t let her see me like this. The swollen tissue has diminished some, but the bruises have only faded slightly. My nose is angled to the left and my lip busted. If she sees me, she’ll know.

The DA knew the moment he saw me, he didn’t ask, but I could still see the concern in his eyes when I met with him this morning before the trial.

I arrived at the courthouse before everyone else. As I make the familiar trip to District Attorney Catledge’s office, I stare at the white tile. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this. I lick my busted lip and can still taste the blood. My jaw aches from the fists it survived yesterday, but is now combined with the tension from grinding my teeth.

The large, wooden door that leads to his office comes into view. I take a deep breath and knock three times before I hear someone calling for me to come in. I open the door and step inside, John Catledge is seated at his large desk signing several papers.

“Can I hel—” His words stop when he looks up and see’s my appearance. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” I brush him off. “Do you need me for anything in particular today?”

“No, today is closing arguments and then the jurors will hopefully come to their verdict and this whole thing will be over,” he responds. His eyes take in every bruise slowly as he tries to figure out the reason behind my new injuries.

“Well, in that case, I’m going to be in the back of the courtroom. I felt like I needed to let you know just in case you needed me for anything,” I reply.

I’m really not sure why I told him all of this or felt like I needed to come down here to his office. I just did.

“Here.” He grabs a business card out of a container on his desk and scribbles something on the back. “That’s my personal number. If you need anything, call me. I don’t care if you’re in trouble or if you just need someone to talk to. Use it,” he demands.

I take it and thank him. We both stand in an awkward silence for a moment before I start to back out of the room. A thought occurs to me and I’m not sure why, but I feel like I can confide in him. I’m not ready to let him in on what’s going on, but he might be able to help me with one thing I may need in the near future.

“You know any good private investigators?” I ask.

“You’re looking at the best my man. Again, use the number I just gave you.” He gathers his belongings and stuffs them in his chocolate colored briefcase.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have an asshole to put in jail for a very long time.” He smiles.

We exit the office together, walking side by side down the long hallway until we get close to the elevators in the main lobby. I hear a ding, and then my feet stop moving while I watch Harley and Sara exit the cart. Chloe follows, dressed in all black. Her hands rest on her midsection in a protective gesture and she glides across the marble floor. Her skin glows against the dark clothes she’s wearing. My hands itch to run my fingers through her soft waves and watch the sun-kissed strawberry color of her hair glow against my tan skin.

We are in complete contrast; where I’m hard, she’s soft. Where I’m rough, she’s gentle. Where I’m happy, she’s sad. It’s that last one that causes my eyes to sting. I can’t think like this today. The DA has long since left my side, so I make sure there’s a great distance between Chloe and me before I follow them to the room where the trial will be taking place.

When I know the coast is clear, I find a seat in the back of the room in a hidden corner so she can’t see me. I watch her the entire time without shame.

“Oh, sorry,” a man says as he runs straight into me. I take a step back and notice the press badge around his neck. I decide now is as good of a time as any to get out of there before anyone recognizes me.

“No problem, man,” I politely reply. My back is now facing the man and I’m power walking down the hall. I frantically jab the elevator button, silently begging it to hurry. It dings and I’m in it, stabbing the “door close” key in the same manner I just assaulted the other button. As the doors close, I see Chloe walk out of the courtroom, Brady’s arm is wrapped around her as he escorts her toward me.

He looks up as the doors start closing. Our eyes meet and his thick reddish eyebrows raise in surprise. He gives me an apologetic look already knowing that I don’t like his hands on her. The doors close and I’m left alone in solitude with nothing to do but let my mind wander and stew in my anger.

What the fuck was that about? So help me God, I’ll kill him if he’s making a move on her. Why would she act so comfortable in his embrace? Has something been going on under my nose? Have I been ignorant to the things going on around me and missed this huge neon sign that pointed to the two of them having a thing?

My mind taunts me with questions and when those run out, I start overanalyzing every moment they were around each other while I was there. Every laugh he pulled from her lips. The other day in the kitchen, when he put his arm around her and she flinched. Was that because she didn’t want to be obvious instead of her not wanting to be touched?

It’s excruciating! Every single memory is relived and picked through like the dollar bin at Target. I’m at my Jeep already and don’t even remember the walk here, I’m lost in my mind. Brady would never do that to me though, would he? I have to be overreacting. I guess the only thing I can do is wait it out. One thing at a time, I remind myself.

I climb in the cab of my vehicle, turn the ignition and the engine comes to life. I navigate the narrow lanes out of the building, then do the same for the streets until I’m behind BAR. I climb out and start to shut the door, but a small, book in the backseat catches my eye. I push the driver door closed, then open the backdoor.

My hand lands on the small book, I recognize it. It’s Chloe’s journal. How the hell did it get here? I look around the alley and grab the book. I use my key to enter BAR. There are no lights on, the room is completely black. There’s no sound, no patrons, nothing. It’s like walking in to some weird twilight zone. Like stepping into nothing. The back door closes and I see nothing.

I pull out my phone to light a path to the upstairs apartment. When I enter, everything is exactly like Brady had described. It’s a man cave, a bachelor pad. Dirty clothes are thrown all over the leather furniture, there’s four inches of dust on everything. Empty beer cans are on every flat surface. This place is a mess, that’s for damn sure. I walk in and set Chloe’s journal on the counter. Brady told me he had packed a bag and was going to crash at Kasey’s. He mentioned that he hadn’t touched any of Tom’s stuff when we settled his estate. Hell, I didn’t even know the room was up here. So, since I’m laying low, I think maybe looking here would be the best place to start in finding this money trail.

I sigh and look around the room again. My fingers are starting to crave the touch of a bleach bottle. There’s a small cabinet in the back corner of the kitchen, so I go inspect it and find it lacking in cleaning supplies. I know that the bar has cleaning stuff, so I exit the apartment to get what I need.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m climbing back up those same stairs with a broom, mop and a bucket of supplies to disinfect the disaster that is upstairs. I finish up in the kitchen after washing dishes, scrubbing floors, and trashing everything in the fridge. I cleaned drawers, baseboards and every dish that was in that room. I silently work my way through the rest of the apartment, not allowing myself to think about all the problems I’m facing right now. Sometimes when you’re surrounded by chaos, you need to step back and find solitude to clear your mind and put things in perspective. This is me doing that. Four hours later, there is a trash bag full of dirty clothes, whether they are Harley’s or Brady’s, I’m not sure, but I do know they are getting the hell out of here and getting washed.

I pull six bags of trash into the alley and on my return to the apartment, I notice a sliver of light shining under the door. I open the door and Brady looks up from his seat at Tom’s desk. My anger from earlier rears its ugly head.

“You care to explain that shit from earlier?” I spit at him as I enter the office, not stopping until I’m just a few feet away from him.

“Not really, you were there, you saw exactly what happened.” His comment infuriates me further and without thinking, I'm another step closer.

“You don’t put your disgusting, womanizing hands on her, do you hear me!” I shout. Thank God no one’s around to hear me yelling at him.

“It’s nice to know how you really feel about me, man. I also appreciate all the faith you have in me.” He leans back and laughs.

“You heard me! Stay away from her,” I repeat.

Brady pushes his chair back and stands. He’s gone into defense mode and I know it’s about to get extremely ugly between the two of us. We stare at each other with tight fists for a few seconds. The clock on the wall ticks, counting down the seconds until we charge like a showdown in the middle of town square in an old western movie.

“Do you seriously think I was making a move on her? After all the years you’ve known me. After all the shit we’ve been through? Hell, with the shit we’re dealing with now?” He steps closer, but I my feet don’t move. The more he talks, the more I doubt myself and the things I saw.

Brady’s head tilts like a confused puppy. “You’ve got to be shitting me!” He throws his arms up in the air in annoyance. “On the day of the closing arguments & verdict she was a fucking nervous wreck. I grabbed her hand and held it in support. Support you weren’t there to give her!” He jabs a finger in my chest. “Then, when everyone cleared the room and it was just our little circle of friends, her legs gave out. I had to fucking catch her so she didn’t hit the damn floor!” He takes a step closer, getting right up into my face. “Then I had to practically carry the poor girl to her fucking car.” His breath hits my face. “I was there doing the shit you couldn't because I'm your fucking friend and I was happy to do it. Not because I was trying to get in with your girl, but because I’m your FUCKING FRIEND, you asshole!” The veins in his forehead pulse from the rage flowing through them.

I stagger to the nearest chair, falling heavily into it. “Jesus, I feel like a dick,” I say into my palms, realizing my mistake.

“You are a dick,” Brady reminds me. “Look what I have.” He walks to his desk like the argument didn’t happen. He comes back and hands me a piece of paper.

Offshore account

Safety Deposit box

Change Locks

Todd’s safe-house in no mans

Warehouse

“What the fuck is all this?” I ask.

“Looks like a to-do list to me.” He sits back in his chair. “I found that earlier this morning after you left to go to the trial. I came up here and tore this place apart looking for something,” he tells me.

I look up at him and that’s when I notice he wasn’t lying. The room is in shambles. A coat rack is knocked on the floor. The mirror on the wall has been removed and propped against the closet door. There are pens and papers lying all over the floor. The chairs have all been moved and pictures on the walls are removed. It looks like the desk threw up everywhere.

“What the hell, man?” I ask.

“I don’t know if it’s a to-do or a done list, do you know what any of that means,” he asks.

“Well, I know where Todd’s place is, but the rest of it doesn’t mean shit to me.” This is all so messed up. I have a few places to start looking, like upstairs or Todd’s, but if I don’t find anything, then what?

“I’ll keep looking in here, but I don’t know if I will find anything else,” he states. I climb to my feet, clinging to the piece of paper.

“Well, I’m heading upstairs. I did a lot of cleaning and maybe there’s something up there that can help me. If he stayed there a lot, then he probably left something behind that could lead me in the right direction.”