Page 3 of First Surrender

Unfortunately, Randolph has already been in jail for eight months, his trial date continues to be postponed due to the run-around the Defense keeps pulling to dismiss the evidence and the charges. They haven’t even made it to the pre-trial and the Prosecution’s case is crumbling.

I look toward the bench just as Declan peeks over his shoulder and across the bar to the woman sitting in front of me. She’s eerily still, her head turned just enough to glare in his direction. He winks at her cheekily, cockily, but she doesn’t react. Her posture doesn’t shift and I imagine her glare doesn’t either.

Who is she?

An old girlfriend?

The victim’s family?

I catalog each person around the room, habitually.

The five young guys who are seemingly here to support Declan are mid-twenties, three Caucasians, and two Hispanics. An older man with darkened transition lenses slowly stands from the last row by the window, shuffling over to exit the courtroom early. My auxiliary deputy is peddling lightly from his right foot to his left. He’s old, retired, and only working in the courts part-time for extra money. I don’t mind because I didn’t want to waste one of my full-timers on it.

The Defense Council is speaking in hushed tones while Prosecutor Fulton stands, addressing Judge Reisner directly. He’s tense, whatever is happening is not going in his favor.

As the shoulders of the woman in front of me become even more rigid than before, I’m suddenly curious to find out her involvement.

And these days nothing piques my interest.

Chapter Two

Natalie

That bastard murdered my mother.

It’s almost nine months to the day that I got a text message from my mom telling me that she and her husband, my “stepfather”, were fighting. She sent me one final text dreadfully stating that she thought he might kill her.

I was in New York and at the time I thought it was another dramatic stream of texts that I’d normally receive when she relapsed. All I thought was that it was happening again, her short-lived sobriety was over and my stent of being away from home was coming to an end.

Except, when the messages stopped rolling in and I couldn’t get her to respond at all, I knew something was wrong. Within a week I dropped everything tying me to New York City and I was driving home to Lawson. To my brother. The only reason that I refused to cut my mother off was because of him.

By the time I got home, it was too late. My mother had been found in their apartment, overdosed. The neighbor saw her lifeless body as she was letting my brother in the door with her spare key after school. Thankfully she shielded him from the sight.

I immediately took emergency custody of Dec, it wasn’t even an option not to. He is my brother and he’s mine now. I’ll takecare of him until the day I die, unlike our mother. I loved her, or the version of her not on drugs, but I’ll never forgive her for putting us both through that lifestyle. He turned seven two weeks after her funeral service.

She had me when she was sixteen. She got pregnant with Dec seventeen years later. She was so strung out that she didn’t realize she was pregnant until she was six months along. It’s a miracle Dec was born without complications, though he was a month and a half premature.

I had long given up on my mother being maternal toward me, but I was determined to make her the best mom for Dec. I helped her move into a new apartment and made sure she stayed clean. Most of all, I kept Declan Randolph away from her. He was ten years younger than her, closer to my age than hers, and a real piece of shit.

They were married before Dec was born even though he was in and out of my mom’s life, she insisted he was the father. She named him Declan Jr against my advice. To me, he’s just Dec because he’s nothing like his father.

Dec is good and kind. He’s a smart boy with a gentle soul. He has friends at school and makes good grades. I love him more than I’ve ever loved anything. When he started first grade, things were good. At least, I thought. That’s why I took the opportunity to spread my wings and go to New York.

Unfortunately, my mom took the opportunity to let Declan back into their life. She started using drugs, again. The fighting started, again.

Then she was gone.

Just like that, within a few months, Dec’s whole world evaporated. A repeating record of my childhood except this time my mom’s gone.

I want Declan Randolph to die in prison. I want him to die for his crimes and for what he did to my mom. I don’t want him toever come near Dec again. I’ll fight to my very last breath to keep my brother safe.

The posse of drug heads and criminal thugs that support the man I despise are also on my hate list. They’re just as bad. They’ve been complicit in his crimes for years. All of them can go to hell.

The prosecutor leans over the bar in front of me and motions me closer. “Don’t be alarmed by the Defense’s tactics. They’ll try to dismiss everything. They would attempt to suppress the tie I’m wearing if they could.” He rolls his eyes, and I nod, observing the dark gray suit he has on.

He’s wealthy, whether from his job or elsewhere. He’s been kind to me so far during this past few months of proceedings and I do my best not to wrinkle my nose at his brand of aftershave. It smells too strong, too spicy.

As stated, the defense lawyer stands and starts speaking directly to the judge. Another man, a look-alike version of Morgan Freeman if I had to compare him to someone. His voice is low and slow, but his eyes are direct and harsh.

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