Page 78 of Twisted Trust
“No.” Maeve’s voice gets quieter. “But the taxi driver who drove me that night, he saw what he did and he said?—”
“Miss Jackson, I have to stop you there,” the judge interrupts. “If you have a witness and they are not here, I can’t hear anything they said or did because that’s hearsay, do you understand? You should have brought them with you.”
My anger simmers hotter and hotter like my gut is a volcano, and I’m seconds away from exploding. How the fuck was Maeve supposed to find a random taxi driver from five years ago? Beyond my fury that this bastard hurt her, and my rage at the judge, there’s overwhelming guilt. The only reason Maeve couldn’t go to the cops or the hospital was because of me. Thefriendwho came to see her must have been the man warning her that I was on the warpath and she fled, fearing anything else she did would create a paper trail leading me right to her.
I may not have been there, but this is all my fault.
“I understand,” Maeve says quietly.
“So, George, you claim the apartment was like this when you found it and Maeve, you claim he’s the one who caused the damage. Were you conducting sex work out of your apartment?”
“No,” Maeve replies. Her shoulders are slumping and her fingers have paled with how tightly she’s gripping her hands. “I was unwell and had a baby. I never would do something like that.”
“But you have nothing to back up your claim?”
“No, your honor.”
“Unfortunately for you, Mr. Claryn does. Geroge, do you have an invoice for the repairs?”
“Yes, it’s right here,” George replies, and he hands the paper to the officer of the court. “It also lists further damage she caused in the apartment such as stains and?—”
“She had a baby, Mr. Claryn. I don’t care about stains. Stains don’t stop you from renting out an apartment, so I’m going toignore those. But the cost of the damages and unpaid rent, as well as time lost due to unlivable conditions…” The judge adjusts her glasses. “Miss Jackson, you are to pay Mr. Claryn the sum of seventy-five hundred dollars within thirty days. Case closed.”
What?
There’s no fucking way.
How can the judge sit there and hear all of that from Maeve and not want to look into things further? I rise from my seat like a bullet the second the gavel crashes and the officer of the court steps forward while motioning to both Maeve and George.
I want to kill him.
The money isn’t the issue. Knowing he attacked Maeve is. Everything she told me about that period in her life, from the baby to the illness and fleeing for safety, knowing she had to deal with this scumbag makes it all so much worse.
I should have been there to help her.
Outside the courtroom, I find Maeve facing down George in the hallway. He stands a few feet away from her with a huge, shit-eating grin on his face.
“You really thought you could run from me?” George sneers as I stride closer.
“Leave me alone,” Maeve murmurs, her arms wrapped around herself.
“Five years and you’re back where you started. I’ll take that seventy-five hundred and then some because I know the law, I know what else I can sue you for?—”
“One more word,” I snarl as I shove myself between them and grab George by his throat. “And I’ll squeeze so hard your eyes will pop out your fat face like fucking sour grapes, understand?”
George’s eyes widen and both his hands close around my wrist. Crowding my body closer, I keep my arm and grip low so any onlookers will think I’m just adjusting his collar.
“Levi.” Maeve’s hand slides into my other hand and grips tightly. “Leave it, please.”
I don’t want to. I want to kill him for daring to touch her. I want to beat an apology out of him and make him spit out seventy-five hundred dollars’ worth of pleading from his sorry mouth.
“The fuck are you?” George chokes around my fist as he begins to struggle.
“Levi, please,” Maeve hisses, tugging on my arm. “I want to go home.”
“You thank her,” I growl down at him as I slowly release him. “She’s the only reason you're still fucking breathing.”
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