“Take your time, I can wait as long as you need.” He can hear the pride in Sin’s voice, the anticipation. And with Sin’s reassurance, he already knows this is something he is going to give in to in the end.
69
CORRELATES TO CHAPTER 64
JASPER
Nervous energy is growing to a roar. He’d noticed its growth the minute he’d been directed by a guard to wait. Wait to be taken to visitation. Though when he got there, he’d been cuffed and all but dragged through a funnel of multiple locked barred doors. Like a whole good dozen of them. No, he hadn’t counted, the butterflies in his stomach hadn’t allowed it.
Now he is in a room that could be some detective movie interrogation prop. All intimidating empty room except for the slab of metal table and three chairs.
Alone. His hands cuffed in front of him. And so very alone.
He has to remind himself that Sin has his back.
Sinn'ous will protect me.
Why is he here . . . ? What’s going on?—
The sounds of the door opening behind him has him spinning to face it, nearly tripping over and falling on his ass. He barely manages to catch himself.
There isn’t a guard waiting there or a gang of inmates coming in to kill him. It’s a man. A very well-dressed man in a suit that Izz has to guess costs more than he’s ever earned in his entire life times ten.
“Ahhh . . .” What is he supposed to say? It would help if he knew why he was here. If Sin was here—
Pull yourself together, you’re a grown man.
“Good evening,” the very clearly rich man says. “My name is Charles Bennett, I am your lawyer. And I must say your case isstraightforward. It will take very little effort to have it thrown out. I am exceptional at what I do. As I am sure you have been informed.” He swishes over the room to perch in the chair, back straight and proper. Waving a hand to wordlessly tell Izz to sit.
He sits.
“I-ah. No? Well, I mean, no one told me about you. And I—you sound expensive, I don’t have any money, I can’t afford you.”
Charles steeples his fingers on the table. “I assure you, my bills have been paid, there is nothing for you to fret over. This meeting is a formality.”
Sin?
Is this Sin’s doing? He never said anything—
He never said anything about the letter either. And who else would pay for a lawyer. Especially one who looks like this.
“Formality?”
“Indeed.” He says it while his eyes give that once over thing rich people do, assessing the dirt they’re forced to look at. “You would have many questions. You may speak your mind.”
“I-um. Not really? I guess, if you could explain what this means for my charges?”
He has way too many questions to round up and try to string together.
A briefcase is placed on the desk, one he had completely overlooked, which had clearly been in the lawyer’s hand. A pile of papers is pulled out, and it thuds as paper does—a noise that isn’t a noise—onto the table.
“These are the motions to have your case dismissed. I am absorbing any damages, and requesting the judge drop all charges and clear them from your record. The case is flimsy and the more I delved into it the more holes I poked through it.” Another stack of papers joins the rest. “And these are sworn statements of witness testimony in your favour. They will influence an acquittal, there is reasonable doubt any judgewould take into account. The judge I am meeting after I leave here is one that I have known for many years. He will sign, and you can expect to be released within the next week.”
Witnesses?
What witnesses?
There are way too many fancy words in that statement for him to process. He understood like fifty percent of that, if he’s being generous. But he’s pretty sure this means he will be released early?
