Page 45 of His Surrender
My heart melted a little. Jay had told me he’d had plans over the weekend—which was one reason why we hadn’t met up—but he never told me it was to help Foster on his audition for the solo piece. He had such a kind heart, whether he believed it or not.
“I should be going.” Jay stuck out his hand to me. “It was nice seeing you.”
I accepted his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Likewise.”
He returned the squeeze, letting his hand linger in mine a moment, before pulling away. Our gazes remained locked for one heartbeat, two, and then the contact broke. I watched him meander through the crowd of students, noticing many of the girls nearly snapping their necks with how quickly they looked at him.
I smiled to myself.
“That’s a mighty fineacquaintance,” Laura muttered to me, out of earshot from the students. “Is his brother single?”
“You’re married,” I responded, amused.
“True, but my sister isn’t.”
I laughed just as the first bell rang.
Chapter 11
Jay
It was another tough day at trial, and things would only get worse as it dragged on—probably at least for another month or two.
Emery had a strong defense. He portrayed Lindsey Wilson, the victim’s wife, as a victim herself. Ciara Parks, a close friend of the defendant, had been called to the stand as a witness, and she gave testimony that had painted an even clearer picture of Mrs. Wilson’s alleged abuse from her husband.
“Sometimes I’d see her and she’d just have these bruises on her neck,” Ciara Parks said, after Emery asked her to describe an instance where she’d witnessed the abuse.
“And did you ask Mrs. Wilson how she acquired these bruises?” Emery asked.
I sat at the table on the prosecution’s side, one hand to my mouth, glancing from the witness to Emery. Much like me, he had a powerful presence in the courtroom. He had one in the bedroom too.
“Y-yes,” the witness responded. “One time when she had a black eye, I asked about it, and she said she fell. But then when I saw the marks on her neck, she broke into tears and said that Terry did it to her. He was always so jealous every time she went out with her friends and would go into rages.”
“How did Mr. Wilson feel about your friendship with the defendant?” Emery asked.
“Objection,” I interjected.
“On what grounds?” Judge Meyers asked.
“She can’t speak on the victim’s personal views,” I responded. “She lacks personal knowledge of Terry Wilson’s state of mind.”
“Sustained.”
“Let me rephrase,” Emery said, pressing his lips into a line before continuing, “Did Mr. Wilson ever show any dislike toward you?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I went over to see Lindsey one Saturday evening, and Terry refused to let me in the house, saying I was a bad influence on his wife. He then called me a whore and slammed the door in my face.”
“No further questions, Your Honor.” Emery looked over at me before sitting back down.
“Does the prosecution have any questions for this witness?” Judge Meyers asked.
“Yes, Your Honor.” I stood from the chair, smoothing the wrinkles from my suit, and focused on Ciara. “Ms. Parks. You state that the victim questioned your character and believed your friendship with Mrs. Wilson to have a negative influence on her. Would you say this was justified?”
“Objection,” Emery said. “Relevance?”
“It’s relevant to the witness’s testimony,” I countered.
“Overruled.”
