Simon gasped and grabbed my arm. “Why are you calling Goliath?” he hissed.
I didn’t answer him. I couldn’t explain it in the secondsbefore Gunner stood from the gallery and made his way forward. He was massive, six-foot-eight, broad-shouldered, and had a presence that commanded attention. He wore jeans, boots, and a black T-shirt with the Silver Shadows MC logo across the chest. He left his cut draped over the back of his seat in the gallery.
The bailiff swore him in, and Gunner placed one enormous hand on the Bible, his voice a low rumble. “I do.”
He sat in the witness chair, and it looked almost comically small beneath him. He leaned back, but his body was coiled tight with tension.
I approached the witness stand. “Please state your name for the record.”
“Gunner,” he said.
“Your legal name, Mr. Jefferson.” Judge Markham’s voice held a hint of frustration.
Gunner narrowed his eyes at the judge, and I closed my eyes, silently reminding myself I had a plan here. There was a reason I needed Gunner to testify.
“Michael Jefferson.”
“Mr. Jefferson, how would you characterize your relationship with Simon Nelson?”
Gunner’s eyes locked on Simon for a moment, then back to me. “We’re friends.”
“You’re a little closer than friends, aren’t you?” Gunner narrowed his eyes at me. I’d gone over his testimony with him but hadn’t told him everything. Gunner didn’t answer, and I continued, “In fact, Simon is the only person in town who doesn’t call you by your road name, is that true?” Gunner’s hand clenched on his knees, and I knew I was pressing my luck. I’d be lucky if he didn’t launch over the witness box and knock me out. “Even your old lady calls you by your road name, isn’t that correct?”
Gunner crossed his arms over his chest, and I swallowed. “Judge Markham, would you please instruct the witness to answer the question?”
Judge Markham opened his mouth, and Gunner grunted, “Yes. My old lady calls me Gunner.”
“And what does Mr. Nelson call you?”
I kept my eyes locked on Gunner, pleading with him to answer the fucking question.
“Fuck,” he cursed.
Judge Markham cleared his throat. “Mr. Jefferson, please watch your language in my courtroom and answer the question.”
Gunner didn’t even glance at the judge. “Goliath,” he growled.
I bit back a smile.
“Mr. Jefferson, is there any romantic or sexual relationship between you and Simon Nelson?”
“No,” Gunner said, his tone hard and final.
“So his flirtation with you, him using a nickname to describe your physique, and your allowance of said nickname—none of those are indicative of romantic interest?”
Gunner leaned forward slightly, his massive frame making the chair creak. “It means he’s friendly. Unlike me.”
I nodded, silently acknowledging the small threat Gunner gave me. “Mr. Jefferson, were you aware of the abuse Sadie Nelson suffered at the hands of Alan Sanders?”
“Yeah,” Gunner said, his voice dropping lower, colder. “Everyone knew.”
“When you say everyone knew, what do you mean?”
“I mean, we saw the bruises. The way she acted around him. The way she flinched.” Gunner’s hands clenched into fists. “Alan Sanders was a piece of shit. Anyone with eyes could see what he was doing.”
“Mr. Jefferson,” Judge Markham warned.
“Did you or anyone from the Silver Shadows Motorcycle Club offer assistance to Sadie or Simon?”
