Unlawful Justice

by K. Langston

  The man bent beneath the hood of a Cadillac shouts for them to come back home as he spots us.

  As Wilkinson heads toward the back, the rest of us step onto the porch, the wooden floorboards vibrating under our feet from the music. We get into position, Prichard and me on either side of the door and Terrell in front. I hold up my fingers, giving him the countdown. On three his police-issued boot meets the door. The sound of wood splintering and the boom of music are all that can be heard. We rush in, guns trained. I’m hit with a thick cloud of smoke, the smell of cheap beer and marijuana hang thickly in the air around us.

  “Freeze! Everybody, get down on the ground, now!”

  “Da fuck?” Three guys sitting on the couch with a bong placed in front of them jump up like their asses are on fire but none of them follow the order.

  “He said down on the ground, now!” Terrell yells, grabbing one of the guys and forcing him to the ground.

  The other two quickly comply while Prichard kills the music. “Da fuck you think you’re doin’, asshole? You can’t just come in here without a warrant.”

  I drop the white piece of paper down next to him. “We’re here for Reginald West. Where is he?”

  “He ain’t here, man.”

  Knowing Johnson and Prichard have it under control I move through the house, maneuvering from room to room. I kick down every closed door and don’t find him anywhere.

  Fuck!

  I start thinking the bastard is telling the truth until Wilkinson’s voice comes over the radio. “Suspect is crawling out the window. He’s comin’ out the back!”

  I leap into motion, heading toward the kitchen.

  “Freeze, don’t…oomph.”

  “Wilkinson?” I yell at the sound of his order being cut off. I jump over the kitchen table to get to the back door and barrel through it. I find the rookie on the ground, curled in a ball, holding his nose. “Fuck! What happened?” I ask, dropping down beside him.

  “He got me in the fucking face with a bat.” He points to the left, and I catch sight of Reggie scaling the fence behind the shed.

  “Freeze!” I roar, taking aim.

  His dark eyes meet mine for a split second, silently taunting me to pull the trigger before he drops to the other side.

  I follow in pursuit, pushing myself harder and faster than I ever have in my life.

  The image of Liv’s broken, violated body has a terrifying rage burning through me, matching the same intensity as my pounding feet.

  I cover the same ground as him in only half the time and find myself in a shadowed alleyway, right on his heels. He slips on a small patch of gravel between the busted-up concrete. I reach for the collar of his shirt, and with a sharp yank I take him down. He manages to twist on his side before I can pin him with my weight, and swings the bat that’s gripped in his right hand toward my head.

  I duck, barely missing it, and hear the swift steel whiz past my ear. Grabbing his wrist, I smash his hand to the ground. “Drop it, asshole!” He doesn’t follow the order, only resists more. I jam my thumb in a pressure point and he howls in pain. It does the trick and he releases the weapon. Leaning forward, I shove it out of reach.

  His strong body thrashes beneath me. “Get the fuck off me, pig,” he grits out.

  Ignoring the insult, I reach for my handcuffs. “Reginald West, you’re under arrest for—”

  “For what? I didn’t do shit!”

  “No? Then why the fuck are you running?” I clasp one cuff tightly across his right wrist but when I reach for the other he jerks it back, connecting with the side of my chin. I shove his face into the ground and bury my knee into his back. He cries out in agony at the pressure. “Give me your other fucking hand. This is your last warning.”

  “Tell me what the hell I’m bein’ arrested for?” I don’t answer until I have the other cuff securely on, then I flip him over, wanting to see his face.

  “You’re under arrest for the rape and attempted murder of Olivia Bradshaw.” The words taste like venom oozing from my mouth.

  Dark, hollow eyes stare back at me, a malicious smirk tilting his lips. “I’ve never had a bitch scream for me the way she did. She was so fucking tight; I can still feel her.”

  My composure shatters as my fists rain down on his face in a succession of blows, each one exposing a darker part of my soul. A part I never knew existed. After only a few solid punches, hands grapple my shoulders and pull me back across the line I just crossed.

  “That’s enough, Taylor,” Terrell warns, holding me back as I continue to fight against him. He gets in my face, his hands holding my shoulders in a firm grip. “Find your control, brother. He isn’t worth it.”

  “Did you hear what he just said? He fucking admitted it.”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter. We got him; he isn’t going anywhere. Let’s take him in.”

  His words finally register through my red haze. I nod, struggling to breathe.

  We both look back to see Reggie trying to get up, but with his hands cuffed and the few blows I delivered, he struggles. Terrell walks over and yanks him to his feet. He spits a mouthful of blood onto the asphalt before smiling up at me. “You’ll pay for that, asshole.”

  “The only one who will be paying, West, is you, so keep your mouth shut and move.” Terrell grinds out before dragging him away, leaving me to stand in numb silence.

  I’ve never had a bitch scream for me the way she did. She was so fucking tight; I can still feel her.

  I stare down at the pool of blood on the ground and search for remorse, but feel none. Only a deep satisfaction knowing the asshole who hurt Liv has finally been caught and we can deliver justice.

  Just like I promised her.

  CHAPTER 12

  Olivia

  I’m sitting beneath the big oak tree, soaking up the late afternoon sun and devouring my current read, when the sound of an engine pulls my attention from the pages. I expect it to be Pap, but when I look up my tummy does a flip and a smile tugs at my mouth when I see Grayson in his patrol truck.

  As he steps out of the vehicle I stand and dust off my bottom, making my way over. “Hi, I’m glad you…” I trail off, my smile vanishing when I get a look at his sullen face. “Grayson?”

  “Hey, Liv,” he greets me, his voice tortured and low.

  Once we reach each other I gasp at the red mark on his jaw. “What happened to you? Are you all right?” I ask, gently grazing my fingers across the wound.

  He stares down at me, his blue eyes tormented, making my heart hammer in my chest. Instead of responding he lets out a heavy sigh and pulls me against him, hugging me tight. So tight I have a difficult time breathing.

  The act catches me off guard, but I wrap my arms around him, returning his embrace. “Grayson, you’re scaring me. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay.” The rough sound of his voice breaks my heart. His hands slip under my long hair as he cups my face. Another bout of anxiety plagues me at his worried expression. “Where’s Walter?”

  “He had to make a run into Springfield for some feed and supplies.”

  Disapproval washes over his face. “He left you alone?”

  I roll my eyes; tired of everyone treating me like glass, and thinking I’m incapable of being left alone for a few hours. Pap wanted me to go with him to Springfield, but I refused. I know this has been hard on him, but we can’t live our lives in constant fear. “Yes, because I am fine for a few hours on my own. Tania just left.” That doesn’t seem to appease him. “Why? What do you need Pap for?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Can you come with me to the station?”

  “What for?” I ask, confused.

  Something passes over his face, something I can’t decipher, but it makes me even more apprehensive. “We got him, Liv.”

  I tense, wondering if he means what I think he means. “Wh-what?”

  “We got him. The lab results came back on the chain and we have a match. I arrested him earlier today. We don’t
have the others who were involved, but we’re certain we have the one who was in charge.”

  My heart thunders in my ears as I stare back at him. His hands still warmly frame my face, but I can’t feel them. The only thing I feel is cold dread creeping up my spine. “Who is it?”

  Indecision battles in his eyes. “Well, before I tell you that we’re hoping you might be able to pick him out of a lineup.”

  Anxiety and fear slam into me at the thought. I shake my head. “But… How? I never…I never saw him, not really. I can’t remember anything. I can’t…”

  He pulls me in close, trying to calm me. “Hey, Liv, baby, it’s okay. Calm down.” He leans down, bringing his dark blue eyes level with mine. “Listen, if you can’t do it then that’s okay. We have his DNA on the chain and yours. We just thought if you could pick him out of a lineup then it would help make the case against him that much stronger.”

  “But I never got a good look at him. I don’t remember much about anything except…” I pause, remembering the words that will forever be ingrained in my memory. “Except for what he said to me.”

  His expression softens as he moves a stray curl out of my face. “Do you think you could identify him if you heard his voice? If he said those same words back to you?”

  I nod. “Yes, I think I would be able to.”

  How could I ever forget?

  “Look, I fucking hate asking you, and if you can’t do it, Liv, then it’s okay. We can go with what we have, but the more evidence we can gather the better. I want to lock this shit up tight.”

  I stare up at Grayson, his eyes burning with concern. The entire thought of seeing my attacker in person terrifies me, but it scares me more to think of him getting off.

  “I’ll do it,” I tell him softly.

  “Are you sure? Do you want to think about it? Wait for Walt to come home?”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t need to think about it, and I don’t want to wait for Pap. It might be better if he doesn’t come for this. I’ll tell him when he gets home.” Hopefully, he isn’t upset about my decision. Since we’ve had our talk we’ve found a small measure of peace, I don’t want him coming face-to-face with the man who did this to me. Not yet. “Just let me grab my purse.”

  At his nod I turn to run back in the house, but he grabs my wrist and stops me before I can leave. I look back up at him and my heart stops at the way he looks down at me, a wide range of emotions splayed across his face.

  Reaching up, he cups the side of my face again. “You’re so strong,” he murmurs, almost thoughtfully. “Even though you don’t need me, I’ll be beside you the whole time. I’ll do my best to make this as painless as possible for you.”

  My heart warms and my throat grows tight at his words. He’s wrong. I do need him. His presence alone gives me strength. Encircling his wrist, I lean into his soothing touch. “I know you will,” I whisper.

  His hand falls from my face but his eyes remain connected. “Go. I’ll wait here.”

  I run into the house and grab my purse then send Pap a quick text letting him know I’m going out with Grayson, just in case he gets home before me.

  We enter the police station twenty minutes later, my clammy hand clasped firmly in Grayson’s. Lucy stands as we pass, offering a sympathetic smile. “Hi, Olivia.”

  “Hi, Miss Lucy.” I return the greeting, giving her a nervous smile.

  She turns to Grayson. “They’re ready for y’all.”

  He nods. “Come on, baby, this way.”

  A light flutter dips in my tummy at his endearment, and I hold on to it, loving the way it makes me feel. It eases the fear and anxiety coursing through me.

  He leads me down a long hallway until we reach a secured door where he punches in a code before opening it for me. We walk down another long hallway, stopping at yet another closed door. Grayson turns to me, his gaze heavy with concern. “You ready?”

  “Yes,” I say with as much confidence as I can, but on the inside I’m terrified.

  “You got this, Liv.”

  The certainty in his words gives me the assurance I need. Releasing a deep breath, I nod. “I know. I’m ready.”

  He opens the door and we enter into a dimly lit room where there’s a two-way mirror. Sheriff Dixon awaits us along with Terrell; David Henderson, the district attorney; and a man in a suit who I don’t recognize.

  Terrell greets me first, pulling me in for one of his bear hugs. “Hey, Liv.”

  “Hey, T,” I mumble into his chest.

  Sheriff Dixon shakes my hand next, with a gentle grip, then Mr. Henderson. Grayson introduces the other man as the defense lawyer, Mr. Franklin Gordon. The man’s greeting is not as friendly and to be honest, he’s a little intimidating.

  “Thank you for agreeing to this, Miss Bradshaw,” Mr. Henderson says, bringing my attention to him. “We’re going to call five men in who will line up under those numbers,” he says, pointing to the single digits marking the wall. “We will then have them step forward one at a time and repeat the sentence you gave in your original statement. Just take your time and do the best you can. If you’re not certain then it’s okay.”

  “Can they see me?” I ask past my dry throat.

  Grayson answers right away. “No, Liv, they can’t see you.”

  A whoosh of relieved air passes my lips.

  Sheriff Dixon hits a button on a panel located on the wall. “Send them in.”

  A guard walks in first, leading a group of five men, all of them standing under the number they’re instructed to. They’re all similar build and height but all different races. Three are black, one is white and the other Hispanic. I don’t recognize any of them but my eyes keep drifting back to number four for some reason.

  “Number one, step forward and repeat the sentence you were given.”

  “This is for Jamal, bitch. Consider it justice served.”

  My eyes close, and I shudder as the words are spoken. Grayson moves up behind me, his hard chest against my back as he places his hands on my shoulders in reassurance. It gives me the boost I need. The man’s tone is similar but not an exact match of what I remember. It’s too raspy.

  I shake my head. “No, not him,” I say confidently.

  Sheriff nods then the next one is called up. Again, his voice isn’t quite right, and I shake my head again.

  “How are you so certain?” Mr. Gordon asks, his tone cold and holding skepticism.

  Grayson tenses behind me and speaks up before I can. “She’s not on trial here, she doesn’t have to answer to you.”

  “He’s right,” Mr. Henderson says, cutting in. “You’re only here to observe, not ask questions.”

  With a glare, Mr. Gordon quiets and turns back to the men in front of us.

  “I’ll never forget his voice,” I mumble under my breath.

  “What’s that?” he asks, turning back to me, pinning me with an icy stare.

  I don’t let his cold demeanor intimidate me, and this time I make sure to speak loud and clear. “I said it’s because I will never forget his voice. I hear it in my nightmares every single night. That’s how I can be so certain.”

  Silence surrounds the room before Terrell gives me a light punch in the arm, a proud smile taking over his face. “That a girl.”

  Grayson’s hands give my shoulders another squeeze, conveying the same message. Mr. Gordon dismisses me and turns away again, but not before I see some of the disdain ease from his expression.

  As the third man repeats the line I shake my head. When the fourth one is called, I step away from Grayson and move closer to the window. I look at him closely, his lip is busted and face swollen.

  He seems familiar, but I don’t know why…until he speaks.

  “This is for Jamal, bitch. Consider it justice served.”

  The sound of his voice weakens my knees, making me lose my balance. I grab onto the table next to me to steady myself, my heart pounding in my chest. “Oh God, it’s him,” I manage to say through th
e fear clogging my throat. “That’s him!” I shout louder as my hysteria builds.

  “Are you sure?” Mr. Henderson asks.

  “Yes. I’m positive. He…” I trail off as the man’s dark, malicious eyes stare back at me. It’s as if he can see me, his horrific gaze chilling me to my core.

  “Liv, what is it?” Grayson’s voice is muffled, sounding distant to my ears.

  I start backing away on shaky legs. My vision blurs and the walls close in around me as images begin assaulting my memory.

  “Look at me, bitch!”

  I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of the menacing words and dark eyes.

  “Hey, Liv, you with me?” I try to cling to Grayson’s voice. I try so hard but the other voice is so loud, echoing so much hate and revenge that it drowns out Grayson’s.

  “I’m here to deliver justice for my boy Jamal.”

  “Please. Don’t do this,” I plead with a whimper. “I swear, we—”

  Rough hands tear the clothes from my broken body.

  “Me first!”

  “NO!”

  “Stay still, bitch!”

  “No! Stop! Get off of me!” I scream and thrash against the arms that restrain me, desperately begging and pleading.

  “Goddammit, get him out now!”

  I gasp as the shouted order penetrates my frightened mind, bringing me back to reality.

  “Come on, Liv, come back to me, baby.” The same voice murmurs in my ear but now it’s low and soothing, bringing me the peace and safety I crave. The arms holding me are warm and welcoming, as I try to regain my breathing. “Good girl, just breathe. I got you.”

  I take in my surroundings, and see I’m on the floor with Grayson holding me. Terrell kneels down in front of me, his gaze sympathetic and concerned. The other men all stare down at me in the same way, including Mr. Gordon.

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” I apologize through my raw throat.

  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” Grayson says, his arms tightening around me. “Are you okay now?”