Page 72 of Claimed by Him

Thirty-Four

The next twodays were awful.

McCloud brought in Daniella and Clark Snowe, now sixteen and nineteen, and twisted everything they remembered into support of my father’s defense. They’d both been in tears by the time their testimonies had been done.

Then he’d called Willis Jacobe himself.

My father hadn’t testified in the first trial. His lawyer’d had a hard time keeping my dad quiet in the courtroom. There would’ve been no telling what he would’ve said or done. Or that had been what everyone had assumed.

Now, I wondered if it’d been because he hadn’t wanted people thinking my father was crazy and wondering why that hadn’t been the defense’s position all along.

I’d listened in horror as he’d described what ‘actually’ happened. How my mother had told him that she was pregnant with another man’s child, that she was leaving us. He’d left to deal with the pain of her infidelity and to think about what to do next. When he came back, he’d found my mother dead, and me in the neighbors’ house with their kids locked in the bathroom and two more bodies on the floor. He never came out and said that I’d done it, but the implication was there.

And that had been the entire point. To create the ‘reasonable’ doubt that the jury needed to find him not guilty.

Closing arguments happened yesterday after lunch, and then the jury had been sent out to start deliberations. I wasn’t sure which was worse, listening to my father lie about my mother and what he did or waiting to see if twelve strangers were still able to see the truth.

Even with Jalen at my side, I’d barely slept last night, and now, I kept pacing in the little alcove where we waited to hear if the jury had a verdict yet. If they didn’t come back today, I’d go nuts. Plain and simple. I couldn’t handle waiting an entire weekend to find out what they decided. The only thing worse than waiting would be if they couldn’t decide at all.

I stopped, rubbing my temples. “Please don’t let it be a hung jury,” I mumbled.

“Rona?” Jalen put his hands on my shoulders. His thumbs dug into my shoulders, kneading the knots there.

I moaned, dropping my head forward. He leaned closer, letting me feel the heat of his body, a physical reminder that he’d been with me, here, through all of it. The feel of him sent a wave of warmth through me.

He pitched his voice low so only I could hear him. “I love hearing you moan like that.”

I closed my eyes. Jalen had been amazing these last couple days. He’d never once pushed for anything more physical than comforting touches. He held me when we slept, and inevitably, he’d get hard, but he never took advantage of me. He’d been exactly what I needed.

“Rona.” Vijay appeared. “The jury’s back.”

Jalen reached down and took my hand as Clay stepped beside me. The two men had settled into what felt like an uneasy truce. Clay was waiting for Jalen to screw up again, and Jalen didn’t quite believe that all Clay wanted was friendship. I didn’t bother trying to set either of them straight. Only time would prove what was true. Fortunately, they weren’t asking me to choose sides. If they ever did that, both of them would lose.

The three of us made our way back to the courtroom, sitting down behind Vijay’s table. My stomach twisted in knots, and I squeezed Jalen’s hand until he winced.

“Sorry,” I whispered, loosening my grip.

“It’s okay,” he said with a smile. “I get it.”

My father entered and took his place next to his lawyer. The bailiff entered and called us all to order. The judge and jury came in, the tension in the room shifting as they did. While re-trying this case wasn’t exactly headlining nationally, it was big enough in our area that everyone was waiting to see what happened.

Everyone, including the families of my father’s other victims. I hadn’t been able to even look at them. They didn’t blame me, I knew. They’d all been there the first time we’d done this dance, and they knew what my father had done to me. They knew how much I’d tried to stop him.

But I hadn’t been able to do enough.

Maybe that was why I’d felt so much responsibility back then. And still felt it today. It was my way of making amends. At least as best as I could.

“I understand you’ve reached a verdict,” the judge said as the first juror stood.

“We have, Your Honor.”

“On the first count, in the murder of Dana Jacobe, how do you find the defendant?”

“Guilty.”

Everyone let out a breath.

“On the second count, in the murder of Annabeth Khaled, how do you find the defendant?”

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