Trust Me? The Trust Me? Trilogy (24 page)

I eat only to stay alive, and when I eat, it’s only a few crackers at a time, as I can’t seem to keep anything else down. I avoid the mirror because it reminds me of how lost I am without him. I sigh as I hear the
elevator chime. Mike walks in and checks on me, as he does every day. I think Aiden has told him to do so.

“Miss Taylor, is there anything I can get you?” He walks to the side of the bed. My back is toward him, and I don’t bother to turn around
to talk to him.

“No, thank you, Mike.” I snuggle into the pillow farther. I hear him exhale as he goes to leave.

“Miss Taylor, I might be stepping over the boundaries here,
but I know Aiden would love to see you. It’s been two weeks since you saw him last. I think it’ll do you good to get out of the apartment and get some fresh air,” he says, making me wince when he says his name.

I close my eyes tightly as I try to think of what I should
do. I want to see Aiden, but I don’t know how I’ll feel when I see him. I hear Mike exhale again when I don’t respond to him, and he goes to walk out of the bedroom. I turn over in the bed as I see Mike reach the door.

“Mike, wait,” I call out, and he turns around to see me facing him and smiles at me.

“Should I get the car ready?”

I nod and move to get out of bed.

“Very good, Miss Taylor, come down when you’re ready.” He
walks to the elevator.

I slowly pull myself up from the bed and get changed. I shuffle when I walk as I have hardly any energy or strength. I guess that’s from not eating, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything at the moment.

I get into his gray sweatpants and his running top. I’m sure I look terrible but don’t have the energy to care. I walk into the elevator and make my way down to the parking garage where Mike is waiting for me. Feeling
slightly dizzy, I stumble when I try to get in the car. Mike catches me.

“Thanks, Mike,” I say quietly as he looks at me and frowns.

“You’re welcome, Miss Taylor. Would you like me to get some
food on the way to the penitentiary?”

The mere mention of eating something makes my stomach churn. I shake my head, and he sighs, closing the door of the car. My mind’s blank, and the trip seems to take forever. As we arrive at the penitentiary, I feel
myself starting to tense up as the tears well in my eyes. Mike looks at me then gets out. He walks to my side and opens my door. He takes my arm in his and helps me walk to the prison gate. We proceed through the scanners and are
patted down by the security guards. We are led into a large room where tables and chairs are spaced periodically. Some other people are there, waiting to see their loved ones. Mike leads me to a table, and we sit down and wait patiently
for Aiden to arrive.

A buzzer sounds, and the inmates walk in. I have my back to the door; I don’t see Aiden as he comes into the room. Mike stands up suddenly, drawing my attention upward, and I see Mike shaking Aiden’s hand. My breath
catches as I see him. He looks down at me, and he cringes as he shakes his head with disbelief.

“You’re meant to be taking care of her, Mike.”

Mike sits down and exhales.

I stand up, slowly feeling an overwhelming wave of emotion
hit me as his eyes find mine. I blink and stumble slightly. Aiden catches me, holding me to him tightly as I fall limp in his arms. I start to cry uncontrollably.

“
Jesus
, Jeni,” he holds me, kissing my head. “You’re
a mess, baby.” He places my limp body back down in the chair. “I love you,” he whispers in my ear before he walks back to his seat, sitting down opposite me. “Baby, you need to take better care of yourself. You look so... so weak and
pale. Are you eating?” Aiden asks me as Mike puts his arm around me for comfort.

I don’t answer him as I start to feel as though I’m going to faint. A cold sweat invades my body, and my emotions are overwhelming.

“Jeni, Jeni, are you okay?” Aiden asks me as he puts his hand out to take mine on top of the table, his touch bringing me back to reality.

“I miss you.”

He winces and tightens his grip on my hand.

“I’ll give you a moment,” Mike says and gets up and walks away.

My tear-soaked eyes look into Aiden’s, and he shakes his head.

“Baby, I miss you too, so much. I was worried when you
didn’t visit me, but I’m even more worried now that you have. Baby, you need to eat and look after yourself. You’re losing weight, and you look so pale. I’ve never seen you like this before,” he says honestly.

I bite my bottom lip. “I can’t eat. It won’t stay down. The
only thing I can eat is crackers,” I say quietly.

He frowns and sighs. “Jeni, you have to stop stressing, I know Jenson will find something on Matthew and Rachelle to help me. Please
don’t worry. I’ll be home in no time.” He is trying to convince me.

“If he was going to find something, I am sure he would’ve by now.”

Aiden shakes his head. “Don’t give up. I haven’t. The only
thing keeping me going is knowing that you’re supporting me and that Jenson will find something on them. He’s good, baby. If there’s something there, he will find it.” He tightens his grip on my hands. I shake my head and look down at the table. “Baby, please don’t give up on me,” he begs as I swallow a lump
down my throat and look up at him.

“I will never, ever give up on you. I’ll wait for you, always,” I say honestly as the tears well in his eyes.

“I love you so much,” he says.

“I love you, Aiden, and I miss you so badly it really, really hurts. I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you for two weeks. I couldn’t find the strength to get out of bed.”

“Baby, you have to promise me you’ll take better care of
yourself.”

I don’t want to make a promise I know I won’t keep. “Aiden, I’m doing the best I can.”

“I’ll get Mike to look after you if you won’t look after yourself.”

I shake my head. “No, I’m okay. I don’t want to burden Mike.”

“What about Marissa, our maid? What if I ask her to look after you?” He’s clutching at straws. I shake my head. “Baby, you obviously can’t look after yourself, so you need someone to help you, to make sure you
eat and take care of you while I’m... in here,” he says firmly.

I huff in annoyance. “Fine, I’ll ask Sarah to look after me, although I think I’m doing fine on my own.”

“Jeni, listen, you’ll always be beautiful to me, but at the moment, you look terrible. I’m really worried about you. Please look after yourself better, if not for you, then for me, so when I come home you will be fit, strong, and healthy and able to keep up with me when I take you to the
bedroom,” he says with a smirk.

I shake my head and manage a half-smile. “I miss you so much.” I start to cry again.

He winces as he swallows a lump in his throat. “I know,
baby, but I’ll be out soon. I promise.”

Is he kidding me? “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” I say far too harshly to him, taking him aback.

“What did I say about giving up?” He raises my hand and
kisses it tenderly.

I raise my voice. “I’m not giving up. I’m being realistic.”

“I miss you, baby. Every second of every day, I miss you.”

Mike walks back over and sits down next to me.

“Mike, can you please call Miss Carlisle and ask her to keep an eye on Jeni? Also please ensure she seeks medical advice for her depression.”

I roll my eyes.

“Yes, sir,” Mike says as he looks at my tear-soaked face. An
alarm sounds, and people start to say their goodbyes. I suddenly feel an overwhelming sense of panic, as I know Aiden is about to be taken from me, again.

I start to breathe erratically as Aiden stands and walks
around to me. I stand up and move to him, taking him in an embrace. I know it’s against the rules, but I lean up and kiss him. He kisses me back so strongly that I feel the electricity flowing between us as our tongues find each other.
The world slips away, and I’m standing with my one true love, and nothing can tear us apart.

A security guard walks up to us. “Okay, break it up, you two.” He pulls Aiden away from me, crashing me back to reality. I stumble as my
grip on Aiden is severed, and I have to hold on to the top of the chair for support.

“I love you, Jeni.” The security guard escorts him out of the room.

I call out to him, “I love you too.” My hand moves to my
mouth to cover a slight sob.

Mike stands and takes my arm in his. “Time to go, Miss Taylor.” He walks me back to the car. I’m not sure if I feel better or worse for seeing Aiden, but I know one thing for sure; it was so good to kiss him
again.

I arrive back at the apartment, and Mike comes up to ensure that I eat something. I resist his attempts to make me eat, but he insists that I eat while he’s here. He takes out some pasta from the fridge that Marissa
made for me, and he heats it up in the microwave. He makes me eat every last mouthful, and I instantly feel sick after eating it. Mike leaves, and I immediately run to the en-suite, making it in time for my lunch to make its way into the toilet bowl. I keep telling them I can’t stomach anything major, and
this has proved it to me, so crackers it is from now on.

***

The next two weeks are filled with going and seeing Aiden, him telling me off for not eating, Sarah, Mike, and Marissa all checking in on
me, making me eat while they are there, and then me throwing it up after they leave. The rest of my time is spent in bed cuddling into Aiden’s pillow as I silently wait for Jenson’s call that never comes.

Trial day arrives, and I manage to get up in time for Mike
to take Sarah and me to the courthouse. Sarah stayed over with me at the apartment last night, and it was great to have some company. As we arrive at the courthouse, I see everyone waiting, including Alistair.

Brielle comes up and hugs me. “What are we going to do if
they find him guilty?”

My breathing stops at the thought, and I look at her with saddened eyes. “I don’t know,” is all I can manage as she looks at me, and then Adam takes her hand, leading her away.

They open the courtroom doors, and we file in, sitting behind the defendant’s table. There are other people in the courtroom, a court reporter and some security guards. A door to the side of the room opens, and
Aiden enters, dressed in a suit and tie. His hair is nicely combed and his face freshly shaven. My breath catches as I see him; I forgot how breathtaking he is. He looks over to us and manages a half-smile as he sits. I’m practically sitting behind him in the first row of benches.

The prosecutor enters and sits on the other side of the room. The judge enters, and the bailiff announces, “All rise”, and everyone stands. “This court is now in session,” he says as the judge sits down. He’s a
very tall man with a white beard and glasses, wearing a black robe.

“Please be seated,” he says.

“Enter the jury,” the bailiff calls out as the door behind the jurors’ box opens and twelve people step out, a mixture of men and women of
all ages.

The bailiff speaks, “This is the case of the State against Aiden O’Connell for the charge of embezzlement of O’Connell Finance Incorporated.”

My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest as I
squeeze Sarah’s hand hard.

“May I please have the appearances?” the judge calls, and the plaintiff’s side stands.

“Your Honor, my name is George Haygarth, in prosecution for
the State.” He sits.

“Thank you, defendant’s appearance please.”

Jenson stands, gesturing for Aiden to stand with him. “Your Honor, my name is Jenson Monroe, in defense for Aiden O’Connell.” They sit.

“Very good, are there any preliminary issues or motions?” the judge asks, confusing me.

“No, Your Honor,” the plaintiff states.

“No, Your Honor,” Jenson agrees.

“Okay then, we proceed. Prosecutor, your opening statement
please,” the judge says as he rests back in his chair.

The prosecutor stands. “Ladies and gentleman of the jury, good morning. My name is George Haygarth, and I represent the State. I will
take the opportunity throughout this trial to prove to you that, beyond a shadow of doubt, Aiden O’Connell is guilty of fraudulent embezzlement. The evidence I will present to you today will leave you with no doubt that he is guilty of all crimes charged against him. I will call two main witnesses, the
first being the lead detective, Mark Breuer, and the second witness, Mr. Matthew Jones. At the conclusion of the case, we will ask you to convict the defendant of the crime as charged. Thank you, Your Honor.” The prosecutor sits.

Jenson stands. “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. My name is Jenson Monroe, and it is my privilege to represent Aiden O’Connell in this case before you today. You have heard the prosecutor explain
what he hopes will be proven, but the prosecutor has not told you all the facts about this case. So we would like you to keep an open mind and listen to
all
the evidence, returning a verdict of not guilty. Thank you, Your Honor.” Jenson
sits back down.

“Plaintiff, please call your first witness,” the judge says.

Haygarth stands. “The plaintiff calls Detective Mark Breuer to the stand.” The bailiff opens a door, and the lead detective walks through
to the witness stand.

“It is your duty to assist the court in these proceedings by faithfully answering the questions put to you. Do you understand this?” the bailiff asks the detective.

“Yes,” he replies and sits down.

“Detective Breuer, is it true that you have been heading the case of embezzlement for O’Connell Finance?”

“Yes.”

“What was the evidence you found leading to the defendant,
Aiden O’Connell?”

“We were alerted to small amounts of funds transferring from within the business totaling a sum of ten million dollars. All funds were transferred through various accounts to a bank in Switzerland. We had trouble
following the money transfers, as they were jumping from one bank account to another quickly, but in the end, the money ended up in an account under the name of Aiden O’Connell.”

“So one would assume that he was in fact embezzling money
from his own family business?”

“Yes.”

The questioning continues for what seems like a lifetime.

“And would you say, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the defendant, Aiden O’Connell, is guilty of this crime?”

“Yes.”

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

He sits down, leaving us shocked. I can’t believe this is happening; this is bad, really bad. Jenson stands up and walks to the witness
stand.

“Detective Breuer, you have established the fact that
you
believe my client is guilty, but what about the fact that Mr. O’Connell has not touched the funds that are currently residing in the bank account under his
name?

“It’s probably because he was caught before he could access the money.”

“I put it to you, if you were embezzling money, would you then be stupid enough to put the money into a bank account in your own name?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” the prosecutor yells.

“Overruled, I’ll allow it,” the judge says.

“I guess not,” the detective says.

“Then I put it to you that Aiden O’Connell is, in fact,
not
guilty of embezzlement, but guilty of being framed by another employee of O’Connell Finance Incorporated. Do you think that this is a possibility?”

The detective looks confused. “I guess so.”

“So then,
you
sir, cannot believe beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant, Aiden O’Connell,
is
guilty, can you?”

“Objection, Your Honor, badgering the witness, move to
strike,” Haygarth announces.

“Sustained, please continue,” the judge announces.

“No further questions, Your Honor,” Jenson says as he sits down.

Aiden turns to look at me.

“I love you,” I mouth to him. He bites his bottom lip and turns back to face the judge. My stomach rips into shreds as he turns away from me. I feel lost, hopeless, and helpless, as though I’m drowning and Aiden is reaching for me under the water, but I’m down too far for him to find me.

More witnesses are called, but I don’t know any of them. The days continue on and blend into each other as expert testimonies and more evidence is presented until finally the last witness is called.

“Plaintiff, please call your last witness,” the judge says.

Haygarth stands. “The prosecution calls Matthew Jones to the stand.” The bailiff opens the door. Matthew is sworn in then takes the stand. I
stare at him evilly as I see Rachelle walk in and sit at the back of the courtroom. I feel like screaming at them both, but I know I can’t. My breathing becomes erratic as the bile rises in my throat.

“Mr. Jones, is it true you work for the incorporated company
in question, O’Connell Finance?”

“Yes.”

“And how long have you worked there, Mr. Jones?”

“About seven years.”

“And in this time would you say you have gotten to know the
defendant, Aiden O’Connell, well?”

“I’d say so, yes.”

“And in this time has the defendant given you any reason to suspect his guilt of the crime in question?”

“Yes.”

Everyone gasps, including me.

“And what have you seen that would lead you to this conclusion?”

“I was in his office a few days ago, and I found a transfer
receipt from a bank in Switzerland.”

Aiden looks at Jenson and shakes his head.

“Objection, Your Honor, where is this transfer receipt?”

“I enter into evidence the transfer receipt from a Swiss
bank, Your Honor, with an attached with-compliments slip and an inscription. Mr. Jones, would you read this inscription for me please?” He hands the plastic evidence bag to Matthew.

Matthew reads the slip. “Thank you for your patronage, Mr.
O’Connell.”

The members of the jury move in their seats.

Callie starts to cry as Alistair walks out of the courtroom. I look over at her sympathetically as Blair comforts her.

“Mr. Jones, would you say that Mr. O’Connell had a reason to embezzle the money for some kind of gratification? He is wealthy in his own right.”

“Objection, Your Honor, leading the witness.”

“Overruled, go ahead.”

“Yes, Aiden and his father don’t get along. I believe taking money from his father’s business is a way for Aiden to get back at him for all the years of bitterness.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jones. No further questions, Your Honor.”

Jenson stands as Aiden looks back at me, his brow furrowed and creases on his forehead. I nod at him as he turns back around.

“Mr. Jones, you say that you believe the defendant has a
motive for embezzling the money. You say that his father is the reason and that they argue often. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t you say, though, that most fathers and sons argue from time to time?”

“Yes, but they argue more than most.”

“This may be true, but couldn’t that be because they work together, strategizing the best solutions for clients’ finances? Therefore, some might say that they argue to get the best results for their clients.”

“I guess.”

“So, then, you can’t actually say that the defendant and his father argue more or less than any other father and son, or boss and employee for that matter, can you?”

Matthew swallows a lump in his throat. “No.”

“So just to clarify, you’re now saying that the defendant and his father, the owner of O’Connell Finance Incorporated, don’t fight or argue more than any other people, therefore, leaving the theory that the
defendant is trying to exact some sort of revenge on his father flawed. Is that right?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“So, first you say that their fighting is the cause, and
then you decide that, no, their fighting is not the cause, and now you’re going back again and saying it is. I move that the witness be viewed as unreliable, Your Honor.”

Matthew looks at Jenson with pure hatred. “I’m not
unreliable. You’re twisting my words, you ignorant
prick,
” Matthew yells at Jenson.

The judge bangs his gavel as everyone whispers among themselves.

“Order, Mr. Jones, there is no need for an outburst like
that. If it happens again, I will put you in contempt of court, do you understand?” the judge asks Matthew sternly.

“Yes, Your Honor,” he says sheepishly.

“Carry on, Mr. Monroe,” the judge calls out.

“No further questions, Your Honor,” Jenson says.

“Would the defense like to call any witnesses?” the judge asks.

“Yes, Your Honor, I would like to call my client, Aiden
O’Connell.”

Aiden looks at me for reassurance. I nod at him as he stands up and heads to the stand, where he’s sworn in by the bailiff.

“Mr. O’Connell, are you currently an employee of your father’s incorporated company, O’Connell Finance?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. O’Connell, have you ever taken money that wasn’t yours?”

“No, I have not.”

“Are you guilty of embezzling money from O’Connell Finance?”

“No,” he says firmly, looking at the jury.

“Do you believe that someone is framing you for the crimes you’re accused of?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. O’Connell, why do you believe that you’re being framed
for the crimes you’re accused of?”

“Firstly, I believe that another employee will be first in line to take a higher position in our company by pushing me out of the way. Secondly, I haven’t touched the money in the bank account that is falsely under
my name because I didn’t take it to begin with, and thirdly, I’ve never been to Switzerland, so how can I open a bank account there?”

“Mr. O’Connell, would you call yourself an honest man?”

“Yes.”

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

The prosecutor stands and looks at Aiden. “Mr. O’Connell, you call yourself an honest man, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. O’Connell, did you know that you can open bank accounts over the Internet?” Aiden looks at Jenson, who nods at him.

“Yes.”

“So then it could be said that, while you have never been to
Switzerland, you could have, in fact, opened the bank account over the Internet?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“So then you’re saying that you opened a bank account over the Internet in Switzerland?”

“No, not at all, I was saying, yes, it could be said that I
could have
opened the bank account over the Internet.”

“Did you?”

“
No
,” he says firmly.

“Are you sure about that?”

“
Yes
.”

“Mr. O’Connell, you say someone is trying to frame you. If someone was doing that, then why would they transfer the money through various accounts and not straight into an account of your name?” The members of the
jury shift in their seats, paying full attention.

“I don’t know.”

“Then maybe you’re saying that to try and make yourself look innocent, when, in fact, you are smart enough to cipher money and transfer it
through various accounts, but, then, dense enough to have it stop in an account of your own name so that it is easier for you to claim the cash.”

“What?”

“Do you not understand my statement, Mr. O’Connell?”

“I understand it perfectly.”

“Then answer it.”

Jenson stands. “Objection, Your Honor, badgering the witness.”