Page 112 of Protecting Christina

“Before we leave, you will apologize to her,” I said.

But Christina shook her head. “I don’t want an insincere apology from him. I want nothing more from him. You are done. Worthless, and you will rot away in prison if I have anything to do with it.”

With that, she gave him one last kick in the stomach and walked away.

26

Christina

I slipped on my nude flats and straightened my blazer before racing out my front door. Will was just getting out of his car when he saw me.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

I smiled. “You never fail to tell me that.” Rising on my tiptoes, I kissed his firm lips. “How did you sleep last night?” I asked.

“Miserably,” he said, pulling me in closer by my waist and kissing my neck.

I laughed and tried to pull away when his breath tickled my neck.

“How about you?”

“Terrible,” I said.

“Good.” He opened the car door for me and I climbed inside. Sniffing the leather and his woodsy cologne, I sighed and fell back into my seat. “I should pack a larger bag so I don’t run out of clothes and need you to take me back home.”

“Yes. A much bigger bag,” he agreed.

We chatted about his next assignment, guarding an Italian diplomat, and I told him about an upcoming case I was working on. It was pleasant and soothing, as I’d never imagined a domesticated relationship to be. I thought I’d feel stifled or smothered. But it was the opposite.

“So, what do you think the judge will give Simon?” he asked as we approached the courthouse.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. In New York, sex trafficking is a class B felony, which means he can get anywhere from five to twenty-five years in prison.”

“Let’s hope he gets the max.”

“As much as I’d like to agree with you, I don’t think he will. That is usually reserved for much larger trafficking rings, but I hope it’s more than five.”

Will pulled up to the courthouse and parked the car. At the top of the steps were Donna, Lynette, and Cheyanne. They all ran up to me and hugged me.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Nervous. What if the judge gives him six months or something? Or worse, time served?” asked Lynette.

I shook my head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Donna crossed her arms. “When did you become the optimistic one?”

“Well, let’s just say I handed down some justice of my own and feel pretty good about it.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t say, but I can assure you that he won’t forget the pain he caused any of you.”

“Girl, I hope you’re right,” said Cheyanne.

I smirked, remembering Simon’s agony, and knew I was right.

We all walked into the courtroom together while Will stayed back to talk to one of the guards. I saved him a seat next to me and when he sat down, I leaned toward him. “What was that about?”

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