“Not if it’s relevant to your credibility, Ms. Porter, I’m sorry. Please answer the question.” The judge looked almost apologetic when he addressed me.
“I … I was pregnant.” You could have heard a pin drop. I took a punch to the gut. Direct hit. Any control I had on breathing was deserted. Ragged and labored, my mouth was as dry as cotton. I had no choice. I turned to where Chase was sitting. I needed to see him.
Bent over with his elbows on his knees and his fists clenched over his mouth, all I saw were his eyes. The fury was frightening. Intensity on fire. His eyes rhythmically jerked between selfish fuck-face number two and me. His arms and legs looked so tight, like he might explode out of the small chair at any moment. How had I let this happen? I could usually read his crystal gaze like a novel, but in that moment, I was left searching. Was he angry with me, livid that I never told him? His earlier question haunted me. Something I need to worry about, Blue? Shit, I should have just told him, why, why didn’t I?
“So let me get this right, the day you discovered you were pregnant, you decided to bring forth charges and accuse your ex of rape. Did you make any other monumental decisions that day?”
I was not going to be his victim. Derek knew everything. The truth. And his intentions were crystal clear. These questions were far from over. I inhaled deeply and directly faced his cold stare, but the coward’s eyes quickly darted away. “Yes. I called Boston University and deferred my acceptance to the master’s program.”
“Deferred? But you never did actually attend the program. Is that correct?”
“Yes. You’re correct. I was able to defer, but I wound up losing my scholarship. So no, I never attended.”
“Fine. Let’s continue.” Blood started to drip from my right palm, so I wiped the evidence of my fury on my new designer dark linen dress. A freeze-frame of our perfect NYC weekend flashed in my mind, adding fuel to my fire. The ugliness of my past still had the power to stain. “Ms. Porter, did you drop said rape charges two weeks later?”
“Yes.”
“Ms. Porter, I hate to ask a personal question again, but were you treated at Wrangel Community Medical center the day prior to dropping all charges?” His smugness was infuriating.
Please, Please. This needed to end. From across the room, I felt Chase’s heat, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him again. What was he thinking? Why hadn’t I just told him everything? I physically felt the rage that clouded his beautiful eyes moments ago running through my body. My knees shook involuntarily. It took every ounce of strength to keep the tears pooling beneath my contacts from falling. I would not give that son of a bitch lawyer the satisfaction.
“Yes.” The dam broke. Years of denial were over. “And I’m sure you want to know why. So let me save us all some time.” Screw hiding my anger.
The judge turned back to me. “Ms. Porter, please keep your answers to yes or no responses.”
“Objection, Judge, this line of questioning has gone on long enough. I do believe Attorney Reed has established a sufficient timeline.”
The drumming pulse in my ears grew louder. I ignored her objection. “No, it’s fine.” Screw yes and no responses. This was not ending on his terms. “I went to the hospital that morning because I was hemorrhaging. I had a miscarriage, to be exact. I lost so much blood I needed emergency surgery and two blood transfusions. I was discharged later that night. And yes, I did call the district attorney’s office the next morning and drop the charges. Is that a detailed enough timeline for you?” You self-righteous son of a bitch.
My body trembled head to toe, but I tightened muscles I never knew I had to hide it. The sounds coming from the audience were pure shock. I couldn’t look up; I couldn’t look at him, not yet. I was afraid to see disappointment. That was worse than anger, fury and rage, combined. Disappointment meant you failed someone. My chest pounded, creating an ache so deep and raw. It wasn’t fair how easily pieces of your private life were stolen, used against you and left to be scrutinized. The heat from my boiling blood settled in my cheeks, maybe from embarrassment, but mostly from pure exasperation.
“So to summarize our timeline, Ms. Porter, your boyfriend publicly broke up with you, two weeks later you found out you were pregnant, filed charges of alleged rape and deferred your plans of higher education, losing the scholarship you obviously needed.” His lips hardened while he watched and waited for the jury’s reaction. “Two weeks later you suffered a traumatic miscarriage, then proceeded to drop all charges the very next day.” That spineless fucker looked at everyone in the courtroom but me. “And during all this personal drama, you were able to remain diligently focused at work. So much so, you filed formal grievances against my client as an unfit father.” The asshole actually smiled, he fucking smiled. “No further questions, Your Honor. The witness is excused.”
The witness is excused. Just like that. It was over. Derek Reed may as well have said the defendant is excused. And not Roy Wayne, either. So this was a taste of why I turned my life upside down three years ago. Then, at least, I would have been prepared. But today, I was defenseless. Selfish fuck-face was not even in a sixty-mile radius, and he managed to bitch slap me one last time.
Taking a deep breath I composed myself as best I could, straightened my now blood stained dress and walked straight out. Eyes forward and chin up. All my resolve crumbled the second the warm August air hit my face. Tears just flowed. I tried wiping them away, but it was useless. I cried until the well ran dry.
I couldn’t tell you how long I sat on the bench across from the courthouse. Could have been five minutes, could have been an hour. The entire sick replay looped in my mind, always freezing on the same frame. The unreadable look on Chase’s face. I pressed my forehead against my palm and tried to massage the dull throb beneath my temples. With my eyes closed I sensed the tall shadow, then felt his presence sit down beside me. His arm brushed my side. The tension and anger radiating from his body was tangible. He removed my hand from my forehead and laced his fingers with mine. His strong bounding pulse clearly indicated the level of his agitation. I attempted swallowing, knowing I had to say something. To explain. But all I wanted was to feel his arms around me and for him to tell me everything was going to be okay. I didn’t move a muscle. I sat so still just waiting.
“What just happened in there, Blue?”
I twisted my head and opened my bloodshot eyes. Chase was staring forward in almost the same position as in the courtroom, forearms resting on his knees, fists clenched against his mouth, but this time my hand was sandwiched between his palms. In a death grip. He was mad.
“I can explain,” I pleaded, hoping he would turn and allow his eyes to connect. I needed to see them desperately. I needed to erase the last image burned in my brain of his eyes.
“What the fuck just happened in there?” His voice rattled with anger. It was obvious he was fighting for any shred of control. “You can explain? How about you start with, who the fuck is that guy? And don’t tell me you don’t know him because he sure as shit knows you.”
“We grew up together ... he’s ... Dan’s cousin.”
“Well, that’s fucking fantastic. He had no problem throwing you under the fucking bus in there!”
No shit. Seemed to be a Reed family trait. I focused on Chase’s sharp profile, while he continued looking straight ahead.
“This trial’s about a scumbag child abuser who deserves to be put behind bars for life. How the fuck did it become about you?” He released my hand and shot off the bench.