“It’s going to be okay. No one is going to take you away to jail. No one is going to hurt you. And if you aren’t out of there by five o’clock, I’ll come in to find you, even if it means I get arrested.” He grinned at me, but I got the feeling he was being honest.
“Promise?”
“I promise,” he whispered and brushed his lips over mine.
“Okay. And what will you do?”
He grinned and hoisted the strap on the backpack hooked over his shoulder. “Schoolwork. At least the regular classes aren’t as intense as the summer courses. There are benches surrounding a small lawn on the other side of the building.” He pointed, and I tried to remember where he would be, just in case a miracle happened and they told me to go without testifying. I blew out a long breath.
He’d started his full-time classes last week for his master’s program. I hadn’t realized the last two weeks of August would be the beginning of school, and it had taken me by surprise. But I’d kept right on going to the college with him and sitting around the library and other spots, doing my work. The students were friendly, and some had started saying hello. I was supposed to take my test soon to get my diploma, or what they would call the same thing, and this grand jury shit wasn’t helping.
“You have to meet Laken if this goes on too long. I don’t want him to think I forgot about him,” I mumbled, embarrassed heat flooding my face. I couldn’t quite quantify what had been going on between me and Laken, but I felt responsible for him, and I didn’t want him to be in the type of situation, when he got out of Trident Falls, that would lead to him going right back in.
“I won’t forget. I promise,” Drew murmured. “Please don’t stress, babe. And the bus will bring him downtown, so it won’t be a problem.” Nearby, a small crowd of people dressed in suits and dresses, talking in low tones to one another, went up the gray cement steps. My skin crawled. I didn’t want to leave Drew to do this.
“If I’m not here, he’s skinny. Cute kid. Talks a lot.”
“Cute, huh? Should I be jealous?” My mouth fell open as I tried to think of something to say to defend myself, and Drew laughed. “I’m kidding. I remember him, so don’t worry.”
“No, it’s not like that. I’m not… I only want you.” My face exploded with heat, and I stared down at the sidewalk.
He dropped a kiss on my cheek, then pecked across my face to my mouth. His stubble prickled my lips, but I didn’t care. I opened for him, and his tongue teased at mine, but I was so wound up I couldn’t enjoy it. He dragged a thumb over my freshly shaved cheek.
“I know, I was joking.” His eyes sparkled the way they always did, but his mouth was set in a stern line. “This will be fine.” He brushed my hair off my forehead. I could have stood here forever, so instead of making an ass of myself, I turned and walked up the steps. It was rough, but I made it.
Today wasn’t a great day, so I was already leaning on my cane as I made it to the door. A tall man in a black suit, who was thin, except for a beer belly that stuck out in front of him in a way that made me want to pat it, met me after I cleared through a security checkpoint.
“Mr. Gaffin?” He barely waited for me to nod before he said, “Hi, I’m Joe Farrow, and I’ll be directing you into the courtroom.” That was that, and he took off like a shot. I was able to keep up with him, thanks to Bhavna’s exercise sessions. Two months ago, I’d have been left in the dust. While trying not to seem like I was out of breath, I came to a stop beside him next to a metal door that had been painted brown, although the steel showed through near the bottom.
After a while, the door opened and Mr. Farrow went through, so I followed. It was strange to go inside the cramped room because where I thought a judge should be at the front, there wasn’t one. There were, however, a ton of people sitting in rows of cheap blue plastic chairs off to the right side of a gray plastic-topped table at the head of the room. Plunked in the middle of the table was a microphone, and I was directed to sit in a chair behind it. There was no padding on the seat, and I had to move myself around to plant my feet firmly on the floor to keep my back from aching. I leaned my cane against the table and stood again when Mr. Farrow yanked on my elbow.
“You can’t tell anyone what happens here. No one. Not your mom, your girlfriend, your best friend, your pet frog, no one.”
A tall man in a bland gray suit with a square, serious face came up to me and said, “Do you solemnly affirm that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, under pains and penalties of perjury?”
“Yes, I mean, I swear.” Sucking in a deep breath, I nodded also, just to be thorough. Wasn’t there supposed to be a Bible or something?
The man huffed out a deep breath through his nose. “Did you hear him, Cora?” he said to a woman typing away on a small gray contraption at the side of the room. She nodded without looking up, and he went on. “Do you solemnly affirm that you will keep the contents of this proceeding secret and secure under penalty of law?”
“Yes, I swear,” I said.
“Sit. I’m Bidwell, with the district attorney’s office, and I’ll be questioning you. We have a lot of ground to cover. Tell me how you met Tatum Black.” He whipped around and my heart lurched to a stop—at least it felt like it.
I took a deep breath and stared at the table, my gut cramping. I would have to tell all these strangers. I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Mr. Gaffin. Today.”
“It was snowy, and I think it was February. No, January, in 2002. Christmas just passed.” I glanced toward the door and wished more than anything Drew could be in here with me, but chances were, he might have to take the hot seat at some point, and I would be waiting for him. It couldn’t be easy for him to cool his heels outside, either. I was almost sick thinking about it.
“Mr. Gaffin, can you continue?” Mr. Bidwell asked, and he didn’t sound like the type of man with a lot of patience.
“Oh, oh yeah. This is rough, you know?”
“I hate to say it, but I do understand. Please, take your time, but we need you to continue.” He forced a smile, but I could see he thought I was dirt. My stomach fell and I fixed my eyes back on the table. “Talk,” he snapped.
So, I did. I told him all about Trev and Tatum, and I rambled on about death and hate and violence. I even told them how Tatum and the AS had put me off wanting to be a professional fighter, even though that had been a dream of mine long before I ever met Trev. I’d loved the blood and sweat in the ring, but fights had rules—the AS didn’t. Time dragged by, and at some point I glanced at the clock over the door. I’d been talking so long, Drew had probably already met Laken, and now they were waiting for me. I wanted to leave so bad.
Mr. Bidwell sighed. “We may call you to testify again, Mr. Gaffin. Will you be available?”
