Page 72 of Truce: Declan
“I know. But there isn’t anything we can do about that,” Jasper says. “Trust me, I’ve already asked around. And we can rough up Grant on the ice, but he’s still a douche when he goes home to Jasmine and Zayn.”
“I need the name of Noah’s attorney.”
“What? Why?” Jasper slides his chair back several inches, the metal scraping over concrete. “What are you planning to do?”
“Nothing bad.”
He’s staring at me, studying me. Is Jasper trying to determine if I’m lying to him or if I’m just downright crazy?
“I need more thannothing bad,” he says.
“I want to testify on Noah’s behalf. I probably can’t testify as a character witness, but I’m why he was arrested. If I explain what happened to the judge, how it was a misunderstanding, and how Grant is the perpetrator, maybe I can help.”
Jasper places his hands on the table and then turns them face up. “Or maybe you screw things up even worse for him.”
* * *
Noah’s gaze burns through me, making my stomach clamp, and I bite down on my tongue to keep the sweeping nausea at bay.
I’m doing this for him, to help him gain custody of his son.
If it doesn’t work, he will hate me, along with his entire team. I’m not even sure Amber will still want to be friends with me. It’s not like I told her my plan, and Jasper hadn’t either, since she admitted to being surprised to see me when we ran into each other at the courthouse entrance.
As I’m called up to the stand, I step past Noah and exhale a shaky breath. He might hate me forever for blindsiding him.
He leans toward his attorney and whispers something into his ear as I’m sworn in and take the stand.
All eyes are on me, but the only ones that matter are Noah’s, and he can’t seem to meet my stare. His focus is on the table in front of him. Is he worried what I’ll say?
I recant my story, the night of Noah’s arrest, and in great detail, I explain how I didn’t know that Noah was a father because he hadn’t told me up until I met his son, whom he was newly acquainted with at the time.
I explain about the 9-1-1 call, what Zayn said at the house, and what I had witnessed when his mother came to pick him up from the police station and her matching black eye, poorly hidden with concealer.
The judge holds up a hand, interrupting Jasmine’s attorney, who steps forward in preparation to question my testimony.
“Will we be hearing testimony from Jasmine Brass?” the judge asks pointedly.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Jasmine’s attorney says.
Jasmine looks flustered as her husband sits beside her, a smug grin covering his face. I’m not sure that Jasmine intended on testifying, but it’s clear that the judge wants to hear her side of what happened.
There’s no way that Jasmine is going to admit that Grant beats her in front of her abuser. Doesn’t the judge realize that? She’ll have to perjure herself if he remains in the courtroom.
“Do you have any other questions for Ms. Grace?” the judge asks Jasmine’s attorney, “If not, I’d suggest that we break for lunch and reconvene after.”
“Just one, Your Honor.” Jasmine’s attorney steps forward, coming to stand in front of me. He’s taller than Noah but lanky. His suit is professionally tailored as he glances at his notes. “Are you sleeping with Noah Reece?”
“Objection, Your Honor. Relevance,” Noah’s attorney interrupts.
“I’ll allow it,” the judge says.
Seriously? I try not to blanch at the thought of having to answer Jasmine’s attorney’s question. My face remains stoic as I answer with an even tone.
“No, we aren’t currently sleeping together.”
“But you have slept with him,” Jasmine’s attorney presses.
“Yes, before I found out he had a son, we slept together.”
