Page 40 of Cruel Redemption

It wasn’t like a court hearing, where you were able to change into a suit. I had to walk in there like this. Wearing this fucking thing. I groaned, but I perked up when I saw the guard walking toward the cell.

“You’re up, Novikov.” I jumped to my feet, ignoring the ache in my kneecaps. I ran my fingers through my hair and approached the cell door. I rubbed the side of my jaw, knowing how rough my beard looked after two days of not shaving.

The door clanged as he pulled it open against the heavy springs. I stepped out of the cell. I’d never go back in that pit again.

“Aren’t you going to take these off?” I asked when we reached the accused’s entrance into the hearing room.

“Nah. Those stay on.” He pointed me through the door. “You’re not free.”

That’s when I realized the photo op the cuffs brought. I didn’t know there would be cameras in the room. Baxter Barnes was sitting at the defendant’s table. He waved me over.

“What is this?” I clenched my jaw. “It’s chaos in here.”

He cleared his throat and motioned for me to sit. It was almost too loud to hear him. I leaned my head closer.

“The story got bigger overnight. There’s a reward now for his return. Information. National media picked it up.”

“Great.”

“You’ll get out today,” he assured me.

I looked over my shoulder, scanning the rows of benches for Amara. My pulse beat faster with each zig-zag up and down the faces seated behind us. I turned around. She wasn’t here. There was a moment that I let her absence disappoint me, despite how certain I was it was the right decision.

The bailiff opened the door near the dais and the judge walked in. I stood with Baxter until she was seated.

The rest was a blur. The judge asked the DA to present the reasons I shouldn’t get bail, while Baxter argued I should. Twenty minutes later it was set at four million dollars. The judge banged her gavel, and it was over.

Baxter squeezed my shoulder. “Told you, you’d be out.”

I stared at him. “Four million dollars later.”

He shrugged. It wasn’t his bill to pay. “They’ll get you processed. Go clean up. I’ll take you to lunch, so we can discuss your next strategy.”

The guard was waiting to take me back to out-processing. “I can’t do lunch, today, Baxter.”

He looked at me. “We have a defense to prepare.”

“I’ll let you get started on that. I have something else I need to do.”

“Something other than keeping your ass out of prison?”

I shrugged. If he knew Amara, he might understand why I wasn’t going to be able to make the lunch meeting.

* * *

Ijogged down the steps of the courthouse. I had dressed into the same clothes the cops picked me up in yesterday. I made sure my watch was secure. I had my sunglasses, wallet, and phone. I hit Amara’s number.

Just as it rang, the door opened to a black SUV parked in front. I saw one long leg and then the other. My chest seized and I picked up my pace. I had to stop myself from a full sprint. I would have knocked down five reporters who jumped in front of me.

“Mr. Novikov, do you know where Enzo Barone is?”

“Have you heard from his family?”

“What evidence do the police have that you can dispute?”

“Were you surprised the bail was set so high since you’re from New Orleans?”

I dodged the questions. I smiled and ran around to the other side of Amara’s vehicle. I didn’t give a damn that Ciro was the one standing guard. I ducked in the backseat, and he took off.

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