Page 78 of Nothing To Lose
“If it’s alright with you and Isaac.”
He’s asking me?
“His court-appointed lawyer was awful, but they have an airtight case. I’m not sure what can be done.”
He nods. “Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat anything. The outlook isn’t great. Isaac pled guilty at the arraignment. There were too many witnesses. The best we can do is try to minimize the damage. Reduce the charges. Push for a lower-security facility, if it comes to that. I’ll exploit every loophole I can find.”
“Prison time is guaranteed?” I ask, my voice thin.
He hesitates, then nods. “I’m afraid so. Even with mitigating circumstances. Right now, based on the severity and the charges being pushed by Montague’s legal team, he’s looking at anywhere between ten and fifty years.”
My stomach drops.
“But,” Leslie adds quickly, “if we can get the charges reduced to a class B felony, parole eligibility could come around the ten-year mark. That’s if everything goes well.”
A heavy silence stretches between us. I have to work to clear my throat, bile rising.
“I don’t know how much Anders told you, or how much he truly knows, but are you aware of why Isaac went after Guy?”
Leslie’s gaze softens. “All I know is that he was defending you.”
I force the words out. “Guy Montague assaulted me. Isaac found me unconscious and chased Guy off before he could do worse. He didn’t see him well, but Anders found some footage that proved it was him.”
“I’m so sorry that happened to you. That any of this is happening to you.”
“Would it help if I came forward? With the footage? My statement?”
He studies me. “Yes. It could change the narrative. Context matters. It might help with sentencing and possibly get us a reduced charge. We could make a case that it was a crime of passion, rather than premeditated, but it won’t make the assault disappear.”
“I’ll do it,” I say. “Whatever you need.”
He gives me an appreciative nod then turns to introduce himself to Genie and Chelsey. I sink into a seat, numb, my heart pounding and aching all at once.
Mac and Anders sit on either side of me throughout the meeting. Leslie speaks a lot about what is likely to happen next and what we can do to support him.
But I don’t hear any of it. I’m too numb.
* * *
A week later,Isaac is granted bail and is released on house arrest. It’s a miracle.
Even though we’re all happy he’s not behind bars for the time being, it’s bittersweet. He’s confined to the apartment above the gym. Can’t even step into the main building. Genie and Chelsey are heading home today. Chelsey can’t afford to take more time off work, and Genie needs rest.
I visit Mac and Anders to update them on how he’s doing. The truth is, he’s not doing well at all. He barely speaks. He doesn’t eat unless I bring him something. Stares out the window like he’s already behind bars.
When I get home with two takeout bags fromThe Nook, I find him at the kitchen table, surrounded by notebooks. He’s hunched over, a pencil clutched in his hand, his brows furrowed like he’s trying to math his way out of a nightmare.
“What’s all this?” I ask gently, setting the food down.
He doesn’t look up. “Inventory.”
I move closer. Each notebook is filled with neat, careful lists—tools, weights, mats, supplies. Some with resale values, others with contact information for secondhand stores and liquidation services.
“I’m selling everything,” he says quietly. “So I can pay everyone back for posting bail, and clear up any debts. I don’t want Mom or Chelsey or you to have to deal with any of this stuff when I’m gone.”
“You don’t have to–”
“Yes, I do.”
