Page 68 of Claimed by Him

Thirty-Three

“Say it.”

Clay gave me a quick sideways look, then turned his attention back to the road. “Say what?”

I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Clay, I know you’re dying to tell me what you think. How this is a bad idea, and I’m making bad choices because of this shit with my dad coming back up again.”

“I never said any of that,” he pointed out. “You’re the one saying it.”

“Because you’re thinking it,” I said. “I saw the look on your face when you saw Jalen.”

“In your hotel room,” Clay said. “Let’s not forget that I saw him in your hotel room. A room that has only one bed.”

“He came to apologize, and I asked him to stay.” I refused to regret my decision. He hadn’t tried anything, not even when I’d asked him to sleep on the bed next to me. When I woke from a nightmare-free sleep, I’d been curled up against his side, but he hadn’t tried anything then either.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Clay asked carefully. “After what happened with him before?”

“We had a good talk,” I said. “And he asked me to give him a second chance.” I put my hand on Clay’s shoulder. “I’ve got my eyes wide open, and he knows he’s got a lot of work to do to earn my trust back.”

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I know.” I squeezed his shoulder before dropping my hand. “And I appreciate that. If he fucks up again, I promise to let you beat him up.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

As we pulled up to the courthouse, my mouth went dry, and the butterflies in my stomach took flight again. I could do this.

Clay reached over and squeezed my hand. “You’ve got this.”

Sure I did.

* * *

“One final question, Miss Quick,”Vijay said. “The events you’re testifying to occurred nearly ten years ago. How can you be certain that your memories are accurate?”

Some prosecutors might have shied away from the question, hoping that the defense wouldn’t bring it up, but Vijay had told me that she preferred to cut off some of the more basic arguments the defense would make by asking the questions herself. This was the big one.

“My high school history teacher once said that there are certain events that people always remember exactly where they were when those things happened. Pearl Harbor. The moon landing. JFK’s assassination. September eleventh.” I looked over at the jury. “What happened that day wasn’t a small event within a series of things that happened around me. It wasn’t seeing a glimpse of a stranger. What he – what my father did – destroyed my entire world. That’s not the sort of thing that’s easily forgotten.”

“Thank you.” Vijay looked at the judge. “No further questions for this witness, Your Honor.”

The judge glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly noon. Let’s break for lunch and be back here at twelve-thirty. Forty minutes should be enough. Once again, let me instruct the jury that you’re not to discuss the case with anyone, that includes speaking with witnesses or lawyers.”

I let out a shaky breath before I stood. My knees felt like jelly, but I stayed standing, so I counted it a win.

“Great job,” Vijay said as she walked with me back to the witness room. “I’ll order us some food, and we can go over the most likely question the defense will ask.”

I nodded in agreement as I made my way around the room. My muscles were tight from the combination of stress and sitting for the past two and a half hours. Vijay had been brutal, but not cruel, as she’d taken me through everything from my father’s accident to waking up in the hospital the day after the murders. There’d been no glossing over things, no shortening them like I’d done for Jalen. She’d already gone through different parts of the timeline with other witnesses and shown pictures of the crime scene. I was the crux of the case though, tying the facts to emotions.

I reminded myself I was halfway done and sat down next to Vijay as we waited for our food to arrive. I wasn’t really hungry, but the last thing I wanted to do was pass out on the stand, so when my chicken salad arrived, I forced myself to eat it.

Before I’d had enough time to completely decompress, it was time to go back. The judge and jury entered. I went back to the stand and was reminded that I was still under oath. I took my seat and braced myself.

Malcolm McCloud was every negative stereotype of a defense attorney to the rich. Vijay had told me that his clients weren’t usually wealthy though. He hadn’t been able to make enough of a name for himself to generate the sort of clientele he needed for the lifestyle he wanted. She suspected he planned to use this case to make a name for himself as an attorney who’d do anything to win. Including tearing me apart on the stand.

“Miss Quick,” he paused, then tilted his head as if something had just occurred to him. “That’s not actually your name, is it? Not the name you were born with. You go by Rona Quick, but your real name is Rona Elizabeth Jacobe.”

“Is there a question here, Your Honor?” Vijay asked.

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