by Ari Reavis
The dread is right there though, pushing up against the hope, challenging it, presenting the negative every time I think of the positive. Because the very fact that Miller is coming tomorrow, to testify, terrifies me. What lies will he tell, what lies can the judge be persuaded to believe? I know the prosecutor will use every tool and trick he has to avoid feeling the humiliation that was clear on his face today. And that means this case has become personal for him, not just trying to make sure Damir goes to prison for murder, but now making sure he crushes Damir and Terry while doing it.
As we walk to the car, I can’t help but look back at the courthouse, feeling like my very future is trapped there, waiting to be decided, waiting to tell me whether the hope or dread was correct.
“You’re so quiet, honey. Are you feeling okay?” Evelyn asks once we’re inside the car.
I put a smile on for her sake. “Well it still feels like my stomach is doing somersaults, but other than that, yeah.”
Just the mention of the baby makes her beam. “Sounds just like Damir. Even before the doctor said I should be able to feel the baby move, I could swear that kid was doing gymnastics inside of me.”
“I can’t wait to feel that. Can’t wait to find out if it’s a girl or...” My last word comes out choked and I can’t finish. Not as the image of me being at the doctor’s appointment alone flashes before my eyes. Of Damir missing that moment, and so many others.
“Damir will be there,” Damien says, as if he can read my mind. I look into the rearview mirror and find him staring back at me with a steely resolve before he gives a single nod. “He’ll be there.”
I take a deep breath. “He’ll be there.”
“And so will I.” Evelyn adds and it makes me laugh a laugh that is so needed right now.
“I would like it if you both were,” I tell them.
“Well I didn’t wanna invite myself like some people.” Damien chuckles, glancing at a glaring Evelyn. “But you want me there, I’m there with bells and whistles on.”
“Definitely.” I pause for a second before continuing. “It’s been really nice having both of you with me through all of this. Not just everything going on with Damir, but the pregnancy as well. I don’t know how I would have kept my mind from constantly focusing on the worst without you. It means a lot to me. And even more importantly, knowing the baby will have all the same support and love. I didn’t have that growing up, not from my parents anyway, only my brother. I can’t tell you how it feels to know my baby will have a whole family to lean on.”
“Oh, honey,” Evelyn croaks. “I hope you know how much you mean to us. We’re not just here for Damir, but for you as well. We came down knowing you would need us just as much as we need you to get through all of this. That’s what family’s for, and you are family. Getting a grandbaby out of it is just an amazing bonus.”
“No matter what comes, we’re going to be here for you and the baby. Always,” Damien adds.
“I know. And I thank you guys, even if you feel you don’t need the thanks.”
“It’s truly our pleasure,” Evelyn says. “Besides I’m rather enjoying getting to know my daughter-in-law.”
I chuckle. “It would seem we’re missing a wedding to get to that point. Or even Damir popping the question.”
Damien laughs. “Oh, that’ll happen soon.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” I ask.
“Only because every time Damir looks at you, his eyes practically get hearts in them, and it looks like he’s playing whatever he already has in mind for your wedding song in his head.”
“That’s pretty specific,” Evelyn points out.
“That’s what I felt every time I looked at you before I asked you to marry me.” Damien smiles at her.
“But...you let me pick our wedding song.”
“Only because I’d made sure to play Shining Star about five times a day every time we were together.”
She slaps his arm. “You cheater.”
They laugh together, and I smile in the backseat, knowing me and Damir will have that. Already do. And I’m determined to have more of it.
“What do you say we get something to eat? Damien asks.
“Ugh, if your grandchild will let me eat.”
Evelyn turns around, looking at my stomach. “Now listen here young man or woman. You let mommy eat, or there’ll be no cookies for you when you come over my house.”
“That’ll do it.” I chuckle.
I do manage to eat a burger and fries, so I guess Evelyn’s pep talk worked. We’re on our way back from the diner when Damien gets a call from Terry and puts it on speakerphone.
“How much damage can Miller’s testimony do?” Damien asks first.
I feel a little relived that I’m not the only one worried about what Miller is going to say tomorrow.
“Some. But like I told Damir, whatever damage he makes while the prosecutor questions him, it’s my job to make sure to undo it all. And then expose him for the liar he is.”
“This judge, he seems to be unbiased,” Evelyn says.
“Yeah. I was pretty worried about that,” Terry acknowledges. “But he seems to be focused on the facts instead of the individuals involved. For a judge to question the statement and evidence of an officer is a really good sign for us. And I have witnesses coming in tomorrow, to corroborate what we know is the truth.”
“But if this does end up going to trial, can those same people still testify later on?” I inquire.
“Yes. This is technically now about Miller and not Damir, which is why the judge said I can’t ask anything pertaining to the case itself tomorrow. So there won’t be any conflict of interest should we need to go to trial. But we won’t.”
I try to let some of Terry’s confidence in that fill me. That tomorrow night, Damir will be in my arms, in my bed.
“Now, you guys won’t be able to visit Damir tonight...” Terry begins and we all lean in more towards the phone, worry on our faces. “Because he’s going to be kept at the police station in the holding cell. They were complaining about bringing him back to county only to have to arrange transport for him again tomorrow morning, so I suggested they let him stay at the police station instead. I stayed at the courthouse until just before this call, making sure he got a good meal before they took him there. He ate about three sandwiches and a bowl of chili.”
Evelyn chuckles. “That sounds like Damir.”
“Because Damir asked, I’ll tell you guys that I already checked and neither Miller nor Higgins has any reason whatsoever to be at the station tonight to make any trouble for him.”
“Thank you,” Damien says.
“And I had a word with the warden about Damir not getting or being able to send mail. It got cleared two days ago, and I had a guard bring the letters to Damir at the courthouse. So it’s possible any letters he sent may arrive today, or in the next few days. If they don’t let me know. He said there’s three letters for Mariah and one for you and Evelyn.”
My heart begins beating faster at the mere prospect of having his letters sitting in my mailbox when I get home.
“Oh, I can’t wait. Do you remember those little stories he used to write when he was little?” Evelyn asks Damien.
“You mean those little creepy stories?” Damien laughs. “Those stories had people coming through mirrors and talking dolls.”
“They were adorable.”
“Yeah, if Exorcist was your favorite movie.”
Terry’s laughter joins ours before he says he’ll see us all tomorrow and hangs up. When we get to my house, I’m out of the car the moment Damien puts it in park. Evelyn’s chuckles sound behind me as I rush towards the mailbox.
“They’re here!” I exclaim, grabbing the envelopes out of the mailbox. Just like Terry said, three for me, one for his parents.
“Well open the door so we can go inside and read them,” Damien says.
As soon as we’re all in the living room, I hand them their letter bef
ore sitting on the couch to open mine. As I read the first few lines of the letter I open, my eyes widen in realization that this is the sex letter I asked for. Hoping Evelyn and Damien don’t notice the blush I’m sure is there, I tuck that letter back in the envelope and open the second. As soon as I’m done reading, I open the third envelope.
Evelyn’s sniffle makes me look up. Her and Damien are both smiling at whatever Damir has written. I wonder if their letter is like mine. I’m sure he thanked them for being there for him, being the source of his drive to fight like he did me. He probably told his parents to look out for me the same way he asked me to look out for them. I know he told them he loved them, just in a different way then he told me.
But I’m sure only mine had talk of the house he’s drawn for us again and again in his cell, with all the bedrooms for our kids in it. Only mine had lines about missed kisses and how he wishes he could hold me in his arms again. Only mine says how lucky he is to have found me. Like I’m not just as lucky to be his.
I call Liam to tell him everything that happened today and what’s to come tomorrow. Although he never really told me what happened, I am happy when he tells me he has to go because he’s going out with Nia again. Another hour and I make my excuses to go to my room. Not to sleep, but to read the last letter.
I take a relaxing shower, letting all the stress from today wash away with the hot water, then I crawl into bed naked. The other two letters gave me what my heart needed. This letter is for what my body needs, has needed for so long with Damir gone. I unfold the letter and grin at seeing Damir didn’t waste any time getting to exactly what I wanted him to.
My hand slides along the side of my neck while I read about his lips coming to mine, our mouths both opening so our tongues can caress one another’s. Then my fingers drift down to my breast as his lips do in the letter, licking along my skin until he sucks a nipple into his mouth. The first sound escapes me when I pinch my nipple, making it hard between my fingers.
My hand follows his words, leaving my breast and traveling to my stomach, feeling his lips barely graze my skin, his warm breath on me from the circles he licks around my navel. Then he’s kissing lower and lower, and lower still, until he reaches my clit. At the first touch of my finger, I gasp, already sensitive and needy. I circle my clit like his tongue would do, arching into my hand, bringing my other hand to my mouth to smother my moans.
His words tell me his tongue slides through my lips, and my finger follows, easily gliding through my wetness until it reaches my opening. He even writes that he teases me for a few seconds at first, circling his tongue around before thrusting it in. When I slide my finger into myself, my back arches, a sigh leaving me at the pleasure coursing through me.
His thumb goes to my clit and so does mine, rubbing it hard while thrusting my finger in faster. He adds another finger in and so do I, loving the stretch I feel when I slide them into me. While his words move him up my body and bring his mouth back to mine as he thrusts into me, I continue sliding my fingers in. I close my eyes for a moment and imagine his weight on top of me, my hands going around his back and gripping his shoulders.
But his words beckon my eyes open again, reading about the way his lips run along my neck as he pounds into me, his hands gripping my ass, arching my body up so I have to take every inch of him. I rub my clit harder, thrust my fingers in faster, continuing to read, chasing the orgasm I feel coming. His words whisper, I love you, against my ear and I come, gasping the name of the man I wish was here more than anything.
As I slowly slide my fingers out of myself, the loneliness sets in. This is where Damir would wrap his arms around me and pull me close. This is where he would tuck me into his body, and his rough hands would rub along my arms as I drifted to sleep. I hug myself and read the last lines of his letter.
I love you. I would give anything to be there to hold you right now, but hopefully you’ll let me make up for this and do that every night for the rest of our lives when I’m back by your side.
I hold his letter to my chest and let those words, that promise, wrap around my heart.
Chapter 22
“Let’s go.” An officer gruffly commands me.
A groan leaves me as I stand. My back, and well, the rest of me, aches from barely getting any sleep all night on that damn slab. But hey, my stomach was full for once, and I knew being in that holding cell was bringing me one step closer to today.
I turn around and the officer cuffs me. I’m still wearing my suit from yesterday and look out of place in the line of other prisoners he retrieves out of the holding cells beside me to bring to the courthouse. What should be a two minute walk to the courthouse next door, takes almost ten with how slowly the officers walk everyone over.
We’re brought to the same room as yesterday, but again, I’m brought to the smaller room Terry waits inside of. There’s another suit on the chair, this time one I recognize. Someone must have gotten it from my apartment.
“Ready for today?” Terry asks.
“Again, hell no. But a little bit hell yeah. I wanna see Miller squirm.”
“Oh, he’ll be squirming, dancing, bobbing and weaving once I start questioning him. You can bet on that.” Terry chuckles. “Go ahead and get dressed. I brought you a bagel and some juice. We gotta be quick since they took their sweet time getting you over here.”
I nod and hurry to change and eat. I’m just throwing the bagel wrapper away when an officer comes in to tell us to come into the courtroom. As usual, the first thing I look at are my parents and Mariah in the rows. Mariah looks a little better today, but still not all the way herself. But still she smiles at me like just seeing me makes everything alright, and my own smile gets bigger because of it. It grows even more when she reaches into her purse and waves an envelope beside it. She got my letters. She arches a brow and smirks, and I know exactly which letter she’s making that face for. It gives me a chuckle I desperately need as I reach my chair.
I look forward then, at the empty chair that will soon be occupied by a man who will decide what feels like the rest of my life today. I have to take a deep breath to keep the nerves from choking me.
“Don’t react to anything that Miller says while he’s testifying,” Terry says low. “I have a feeling he’ll answer as many questions as he can in a way to try to antagonize you. Don’t fall for it. If he says anything you feel we can use when I question him, write it on the pad, and I’ll look at it before I begin.”
“Okay. Just... take him down.”
“I plan to.”
The judge enters, and we all rise and sit when he does. My heart begins to beat rapidly now, before the judge has even spoken a word. I was nervous yesterday, but today is even worse. Feeling so, so close to this nightmare finally being over, that Miller could be shown for the liar he is, and I can go free. It feels like I can almost reach out and touch my freedom. And that’s what makes it all the more scary. To think that I can see my freedom just on the other side, a light shining in, and that it could possibly be ripped away from me with just the slamming of a gavel. With just a few words from the judge, I can be sent right back to county, awaiting a trial that’ll start who knows when.
I want to tell my heart to calm down, but I feel it’s the least of my worries right now. Not as the judge begins the proceedings again, reading the case number, the state versus me.
“I trust officer Miller is here,” the judge states.
“He is, Your Honor,” the prosecutor replies.
“Good. Let us begin. You may call your first witness.”
“The prosecution calls Officer Miller to the stand.”
The door creaks as it opens and even that makes me clench my hands into fists. Just to know who’s coming through that door. I don’t turn around. I don’t know if I’d be able to restrain myself if I did. But eventually the thudding footsteps get closer, the sound of the gate from the seating area to where we are swinging open reaches my ears, and then I’m looking at the back of the
individual who is, somehow, someway, responsible for all of this.
He walks up the few steps to the witness stand, unbuttons his suit jacket, and smiles my way like he doesn’t have a care in the world. And why would he? He’s not in jail for something he didn’t do. He’s not facing spending the next twenty-five years to the rest of his life in a box. He’s not the one sitting here with barely contained rage simmering in him, waiting for a single thing to send it boiling over.
At the touch of Terry’s hand on my fist, I realize just how tightly my hand is balled up. My knuckles are losing color. I unclench it and look over at him. He has concern written all over his face. I give him a nod to let him know I’m okay. Even though I’m far from it.
“State your name for the record,” the bailiff says.
“Henry Miller.”
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do.”
Lying already.
Miller sits down, and the prosecutor approaches him. “Do you recall having a private conversation with Stanley Phillips days before his murder?”
“I do.”
“And what was said during that conversation?”
“Mr. Phillips told me he was afraid of Mr. Lewis, and felt he was in danger.”
“What was the context of the conversation?”
“When I’d came to the work site and spoken to Mr. Phillips there, I had given him my card, letting him know if he had any issues with Mr. Lewis he could give me a call, and I would help him to the best of my ability.”
“And did you? Help?”
“I didn’t get a chance to. He was murdered before I could speak with him again.”
“Did Mr. Phillips say why he was afraid of Mr. Lewis?”
“Because he had messed up on his end of a drug deal with Mr. Lewis, and feared Mr. Lewis would harm him as retaliation.”