Page 79 of Desert Loyalties
Drake and I just smile, because what else can we do?
She sighs, flipping through her binder again. “We’re still early in the process. Discovery hasn’t fully landed yet, but it’s coming. Within the next two weeks, the prosecution is required to turn over everything they plan to use at trial- witness lists, reports, physical evidence. And anything they’re legally obligated to disclose that could help us.”
“And then?” I ask.
“Then we’ll go through every line. See what motions we can file. Try to suppress anything weak or prejudicial. I’ll also be preparing our side- witnesses, exhibits. Judges have a pretty busy docket, the more straightforward your side, the more they like you, so I’m gonna try to argue our side while the prosecution lays theirs.”
“And the trial date?”
“We’ll get a firm one at the next status conference. Could be a little under eight weeks. The court already said this is a fast-track case. That means no delays, no extensions unless something serious happens. So, from now on, we stay ready.”
Jonah tops off her coffee again. Christina doesn’t thank him, just keeps reading.
Then she glances up. “You two need to be airtight. No off-script moments. No social media. No cryptic texts that could be twisted. You’re married now? Good. Be boring. Be wholesome. No drama. No headlines. And for the love of God, no more surprises.”
Drake chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter 33
MANDRAKE
Waiting for trial sucks. I’ve watched every legal drama on Netflix, twice. Even signed up for more streaming services just to rot my brain with courtroom theatrics. It got so bad, Skye poked my not-so-hard belly while we were cuddling naked. Shit hit the fan, and I hit the gym. I’m not vain, but I’ll be damned if I’m the one in this relationship getting soft. No fucking way.
My old lady, Skye has become a queen, and not just in the club. Out there in the real world too. She’s running the businesses better than I ever did, and that doesn’t bruise my ego, but damn if it doesn’t turn me on. I always enjoyed the money, sure, but juggling all that shit after dealing with club-owned fronts? I hated it. Couldn’t say that out loud back then. Now? I’m gonna ask her to take over everything, completely. Not as a stand-in. As the boss. If anything like this ever happens again, she’s gonna need the powerandthe protection. Money, if it comes to that.
I wanted to go to the pretrial hearings. There’ve been a bunch. But Christina told me no. Said she wasn’t risking me yawning or scratching my balls and offending the judge. Since we landed the bench trial, despite prosecutor Cheng's whining, she’s extra cautious. Jerkoff tried to block it, but the judge approved it anyway. Probably because Christina made it clear how fucking stupid their case is.
It’s been nearly two months since we last set foot in court. And tomorrow… tomorrow the trial starts.
I’m staring down twenty-five years. Cheng tried dangling ten if I pled guilty. I told him to fuck off. No way in hell I’m doing ten years for something I didn’t do. Christina said the offer proves her theory; they’re trying to flip me. Hoping I’ll crack and give them something. Anything. Funny thing is, they haven’t even brought up the location of Locke’s body. No immunity dealeither. Christina says if theyreallywanted to flip me, they’d offer protection, even no jail time. So, what the fuck are they playing at?
It’s a mindfuck. A long, slow, psychological chokehold.
They gave us their witness list. Practically every officer in the club is on it. Serena must’ve opened her big mouth, figures. She wouldn’t understand loyalty even if it fucked her in the ass.
Christina’s been working nonstop, cross-referencing timelines, digging through bullshit, trying to build our defence. Which is kinda hard to do, considering, how the hell do you prove youdidn’tdo something? Especially when no one else saw or heard it. Except maybe a dead guy. Definitely a dead guy. But they don’t know that. Not for sure.
We don’t even know when they’re planning to drop the bomb,whenthey’ll claim I threatened him. I never even suspected Locke of being a rat. Never. He was a fucking mess, but he was still a brother or so I thought.
But that’s tomorrow’s war. When the pricks open their mouths and finally lay it all out.
Tonight? Tonight, I’m making dinner for my lady.
One last night of peace. One last night where it’s just her and me, no lawyers, no whispers, no prison walls looming in the shadows.
She deserves that. Hell, maybe I do too.
I cooked. Hand-made the fucking pasta from scratch, just like some bootleg Italian grandma. And damn, it smells fucking delicious. If the brothers could see me now...
That’s another thing. Ranger, Ice, Maverick, some of the few without convictions on their records, have been able to visit the house. Perks of being clean, I guess. I’m still stuck on house arrest. But it’s been good, having them around. Like old times, almost.
They even brought me a bunch of paperwork.Fuckers.Said it was “club business,” but I know it was just an excuse to mess with me. I think they miss me more than they let on. Or maybe they’re just trying to remind me that I still have my seat.
Either way, it’s been good for my head. Gave me something to do between trial prep and Netflix.
I hear the car pull up. Then the familiar click of the door, keys hitting the dish, and the soft sigh she always lets out when she finally steps off those sexy as fuck heels.
Skye walks in like she owns the world and she does, at least the parts I care about. Power suit sharp enough to cut throats, heels dangling from her fingers, her other hand already reaching up to undo the top button of her blouse. She catches my eye and smirks.
