“Stop it!” She took a moment when he was distracted to buck her legs into him and roll her hips, causing him to fall back. She put her hands on his chest and straddled him. “How about you just fuck me?” He rolled her back over, and she found herself once again underneath the man who rocked her to her core.
“Like this?” He entered her without warning. She gripped him, ready to go from their earlier foreplay. This was another battle in their never-ending war, and Alexandra and Roman fought for every inch they could. He plunged in and out of her, taking everything she had and then coming back for more. She matched him stroke for stroke, hands and mouths gliding over whatever body part they could find. He pounded into her until she saw stars, then screamed his name when she found her release. A couple more strokes and he followed, emptying himself. She lay on top of him in post-orgasmic bliss.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Roman mused, breaking the silence. “I’d give one hundred dollars to know what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“You don’t need one hundred. I was thinking about my job. I can’t lose it, it’s all I have.”
Rubbing her back, Alexandra was comforted by the sound of his heartbeat underneath her ear. If she could stay here forever she would. “It’s not all you have.”
She propped herself up on her hands so she could look in his eyes while she said her next statement. Her heart was in her throat when she made her confession. “I know. I broke rule number five.”
His hands cupped her face, tilting her face up to kiss her. “I fell for you too.”
18
“I got this,” Alexandra whispered to Corey. She put her hand on his knee, because his shaking leg was distracting. His calm demeanor earlier masked nerves tapping a rhythm beside her when the owner of the pizza parlor, the same man who identified him, took the stand. The district attorney took him through all the basics about the crime: what happened, what he saw, and whether the person was in the courtroom. He pointed to Corey, as she knew he would, but she was ready for this.
“Your witness.” The DA smirked, as though his testimony scared Alexandra. She stood up, straightening her shirt, approaching Leo Dominic.
“Mr. Dominic, you testified the person who robbed you is here in this courtroom, correct?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “It was that boy.” Alexandra looked over at her client, smiling, trying to convey an outward calm when inside she was buzzing with excitement.
“Did you know my client before this happened?” she asked, turning back to the elderly Italian with white hair.
“He used to come in all the time and get pizza,” he answered, looking over at the defense table again. “I used to love having him come. He was so respectful.”
“Respectful, you say?”
“Very respectful,” he agreed. This was his stage, and he threw his arms out like he was born to act. “Until he robbed me.”
“Right, you told us. You didn’t actually identify him in person, did you?”
“No.” Confusion showed on his face when he shook his head. “I picked him out on the paper they showed me.”
“I saw. Note the witness is referring to prosecution’s Exhibit F, the photo lineup.” She walked back over to her desk, grabbing the lineup that made her want to jump for joy, and put it down on the space in front of him. “Is this your signature above his picture?” Trembling hands grabbed the paper while he examined it.
“Yes, it is. Like I told the detective, he’s the one.” He jabbed the paper with his finger.
“Is there anything different about this picture than the person who robbed your store? For example, were there any tattoos?” His eyes darted in the courtroom, and she followed his gaze. Detective Trajeo. The lead detective on the case, the one who gave her the runaround when she called him earlier. Interesting piece of information she would file away for later, but not her concern right then.
“No. He’s the guy who robbed my store and tried to kill me.” His eyes watered, and he took a handkerchief yellowed with age from his pocket, wiping his face before blowing what sounded like an air horn coming out of his nose. Tread carefully.
“So, for the record, you are saying there were no identifying marks or tattoos on the person who robbed your store.”
“No. It was this guy.” He shook the paper with his identification for all to see. “I saw him. He had on the black baggy T-shirt and the black ball cap pulled down, but I saw him.”
She ignored his last statement, since it was no longer important. She got what she needed from him, and she was going to be able to set her client free. “I would like to enter defense Exhibit J into evidence, a post and picture from Corey Davis’s Facebook page.” She clicked on the remote so her newest piece of evidence was shown, a picture of Corey beside his tattoo artist, showing his neck tattoo. Thank God for social media, she thought, it gave the time when the picture was taken, weeks before the robbery.
“Thank G for this sweet piece,” it read, with a grinning Corey and the tattoo she thought made him a criminal for all the world to see. The true irony wasn’t lost on her, but she’d savor the victory after she finished with the lying witness.
“Are you telling me,” she stood beside the projector, pointing at his neck, “you didn’t notice a tattoo that said ‘Thug Life’ from the person robbing you? The person you knew because he would come in your pizza parlor all the time and order the same thing?”
“Well,” he sputtered, “I mean. He must have gotten it afterward.”
“No, he didn’t.” She pointed at the date. “He got it a month before your store was robbed. Which is it? Did he have a tattoo, or not?” He bit his lip, glancing toward the audience where she knew the detective was sitting.
“I identified him.” He shook the paper.
“From a driver’s license picture that’s two years old. My client didn’t rob your store, did he?” she bandied back, not giving him any downtime.
“He did,” Mr. Dominic insisted, but his voice wasn’t as strong.
She had him where she wanted him, but wanted to give him one more time before she went in for the kill. “When you consider Exhibit F, then Exhibit J, are you stating under oath, that Corey Davis is the man who robbed your store?”
“Yes.” Mr. Dominic picked up the water pitcher but his hand shook so bad he couldn’t pour himself a glass.
“How much does your pizzeria take in a month?” She changed subjects and Mr. Dominic couldn’t keep up, opening and closing his mouth several times without response. She felt no remorse, he’d continued to lie when his hesitation showed he knew more about the situation.
“Objection. Relevance?” The prosecutor stood with his hands perched on the desk, lips in a thin line. No longer smirking, looking like he’d swallowed nails instead.
The judge cocked his head at her, and Alexandra held her hands up. “I’m getting to it, I promise.”
“You’re on thin ice,” he warned.
“Mr. Dominic?” She turned back to the witness, but he was left flummoxed.
“I forgot the question.”
She smiled to reassure him before pulling her ace out of the hole. “How much does your restaurant make in a month?”
He narrowed his eyes. “After expenses, about $5,000.”
“So, you have enough to pay your personal bills, but not an overabundance of money in the bank.”
He pinched his lip, shaking his head.
“You need to answer the question aloud for the record.” If looks could kill, she’d be dead. The daggers he sent her in his expression only reinforced her need to continue the line of questioning. He reached up, straightening his tie before leaning into the microphone. He glanced over her shoulder again before he answered, “No.”
“Then how do you explain the used Skeeter Boats ZX 170 worth $20,000 you bought two weeks after the robbery?” She picked up the next piece of evidence she had, the receipt from the boating company and a picture of him standing in front of the fishing boat smiling like a loon. “It says here you paid cash.”