Page 235 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

“It’s a deal.” Then he lets out a sigh. “Let me know what happens.”

“You’ll be my first call,” I promise, and then I’m out the door.

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

BRIANNA

Imet with Brit Langston two hours ago. She’s the Assistant District Attorney who’ll be prosecuting Chasity Carlisle, but since court started, she’s already knocked two cases off the judge’s docket. The woman is a shark, and I’ve never seen a preceding go this rapidly.

In the first case, a rape charge, she had the defendant crying within five minutes and he admitted to the crime that he had just pleaded innocent to. And the second, a child abuse case, the mother broke down about the hardship of single parenting. I recognize that I haven’t had Gabriel long enough to experience all that parenthood brings, but I know from Jackson and Alana raising three children that it is possible to get mad or upset at your child without resorting to violence and abuse. My father might not have been the best dad in the world, but he’s never laid a hand on me in that manner.

Chasity entered the courtroom ten minutes ago, dressed to the nines in a black two-piece business dress suit. I wanted to laugh. Not because the outfit looked ridiculous on her, because it doesn’t. It’s just not something any twenty-year-old would wear.

Someone obviously prepped her. Her uncle no doubt, seeing as he’s the Chief of Staff to our Mayor. It makes me wonder if he tried to pull any strings to free her of the charges. I relayed all of my concerns to the ADA a few weeks ago and again this morning. She assured me that wasn’t how she worked. She didn’t give two shits who someone was or who they were connected to. Guilty is guilty in her book.

Let’s just hope she holds up the end of her words.

“I thought I’d find you here.” I look up, seeing Eric towering over me. He takes a step, walking past me, and then sits next to me on my right side in the vacant spot on the wooden bench. It’s rather busy with bodies covering most of the benches, so the judge’s schedule must be pretty packed today.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He shrugs, leaning back and relaxing against the uncomfortable bench. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“Your office is on the other side of town.” I purse my lips and stare at him from the corner of my eye. He doesn’t come back with anything, only sits, his eyes roaming the courtroom just as mine did when I arrived. “Eric?” I call out in warning. He’s here for a reason, and if he or even D thinks I need some type of babysitter, I’m going to be pissed.

He sighs. “Calm your shit. I’m here because you’re my friend too. No one asked me to come. No one had to.”

I think deep down I knew he was my friend, but there was a part of me that thought he only came up with the DEA partnership plan because D asked him to when my boss found out about Drago and me. And that is probably true, even if neither of us has talked about it, but it’s also true that Eric and I formed a bond during the weeks we spent together.

“God, parking was a bitch.” I turn my head, seeing Connie plopping down on my left. “I always hate coming to this place. It takes forever to find a spot to park, and I end up having to walk several blocks. So, have I missed anything? Have they called that cunt’s case yet?”

My partner’s police-issued weapon digs into my hip as she wiggles in her seat, adjusting and crossing one thigh over the other. She’s wearing a short skirt today that rides high up her tan legs. Connie works out like it’s her religion. I used to be disciplined much like her before everything happened. Now, even though I can work out and I still do, I don’t get to the gym daily like I used to. It all seems so irrelevant now, but a part of me misses it, so maybe I do need to force myself to go. It’s not like I can’t. I have plenty of help with Gabriel now more so than I used to.

“Not yet,” I tell her, “but I think it’s coming up next. The ADA said she was early on the list this morning.”

“What’s sexy, tall, and dark doing here?”

“I can hear you,” Eric chimes in, in a whisper.

Connie leans forward, looking around me. “You were meant to.” A coy smile spreads across her face, her beautiful pale-blue eyes sparkling.

Brit Langston addresses the judge, informing him of the next case—Chasity Carlisle. She rattles off the charges, giving the judge a brief synopsis. Chasity and her lawyer stand, walking to the desk and chairs at the front of the court, taking a standing position to Brit’s left and facing Judge Anthony Stratton.

“How does the defendant plead?” the judge asks.

“Not guilty, your honor,” Chasity replies, her voice coated in sugar. I remember my three encounters with her and never did her voice sound this fake. The first time was an act, which she admitted. The second time was at the salon where she divulged Diaz’s sick plan. The thought of that conversation still makes my stomach flip, and I want to throw up. That’s what she should really be on trial for, not BS charges of accessory.

I asked Drago before we fell asleep last night why he didn’t want to seek legal action against her for what she admitted to doing to him. My heart aches for what he told me.My father would see it as a sign of weakness. An Acerbi would never let the authorities handle our problems. We do it ourselves. We handle them personally.Meaning, Vincent would bring his own brand of justice upon Chasity himself.

“You are being charged with accessory to kidnapping, Miss Carlisle. Are you saying you didn’t have a part in that?”

Eric reaches over, grabbing my right hand in his left and interlocking them. It’s a reassuring gesture that I’m grateful for. He’s offering me his strength, and it warms my heart as much as possible in this moment. I squeeze him back, acknowledging him as I continue looking forward.

Connie grips my thigh in a painful manner, pulling my attention away from the front of the room. Her eyes are shining a warning to me that has me looking past her head, down the middle aisle of the courtroom.Vincent Acerbi.He’s standing there, dressed in a black suit, his salt and pepper hair styled up and back on his head. For a middle-aged man, he’s actually quite good-looking if only to admire the surface. He and Drago favor more than I like to admit, giving me an idea of what my man will look like when he’s the same age as his father. It’s the eyes that differ, though. Drago has the same dark brown eyes as his dad, but where Vincent screams evil, D’s shine bright with goodness.

His gaze travels the room much like Eric’s did earlier, until his face turns, seeing me. His expression is blank, not revealing anything until his eyes dip, taking in my hand in Eric’s. The look is brief, but it’s there in the way his jaw locks, turning to stone. He quickly looks away and walks down the aisle until he stops at the first row, taking a seat next to a man I now realize is Dylan Harper, Chasity’s uncle.

“Why is he here?” I whisper to myself.

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