Anyone but Him

by Cassie Graham

  Cade, while in prison, found God, turning his evil ways into good. He’s the Chaplain’s right hand man. Turned a new leaf. He no longer wants to be bad, he wants to be good.

  Okay, it wasn’t put into such simpleton terms, but that’s how I took it. Because, honestly, I’m not really hearing everything they’re saying. As they begin to recount the night that our worlds turned upside down, the tears begin to flow.

  “The Defense calls Whitley Sanders to the stand.”

  I iron my pencil skirt down with my hands and slowly walk to the chair next to judge. I take my oath and wait for the defense to begin their questioning.

  A pudgy man in his late forties and wrinkled suit approaches me and gives me a curt nod.

  “Can you state your full name for the record, please?”

  I clear my throat. “Whitley Jules Sanders.”

  “Is that the name you go by?”

  “Now?” I clarify.

  “Yes, do you go by Whitley Sanders now?”

  “No.” My hands begin to shake.

  “You changed your name?”

  “Yes,” I reply. This is applicable, how?

  “Okay. Can you recall what happened the night of November 22nd?”

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I haven’t looked away from my hands because I can’t force myself to look up at Cade. “That was the night Cade left me for dead on the side of Highway 80.”

  “Right. What happened before then?”

  “He beat me.”

  “Did Mr. Fryerson seem to be under the influence of drugs that night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you say, if he hadn’t been under the influence, he would have hurt you?”

  Do I think so? Hell yes. He hit me on many occasions. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” the attorney questions. “In your previous statement, you said no.”

  “No, I said in the beginning of our relationship, I didn’t think he would. But, as time progressed, he became more violent.”

  “Did you sell drugs to Sydney Maylor on the night of the incident?”

  I crumple. To the ground. My sadness digs a hole so far into the soil that I’m suffocating under the pressure.

  A sob rips through my body and I cover my mouth, still unable to look up.

  “Miss Sanders. We need an answer,” the defense insists.

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Is it true Sydney died that night?”

  “Objection!” my lawyer shouts. “Not significant to the present case.”

  The judge sustains.

  “Yes.”

  “Because she overdosed on the drugs you sold her,” the attorney says, it’s not a question, it’s a statement. One that he knows will hit me hard.

  “Yes.” I finally cut my eyes to the attorney and give him a hard stare.

  With a satisfied smile, he turns around, with his hands out. “Your witness, Prosecution.”

  Lenard approaches me with understanding eyes. I didn’t know I was on trial.

  “Whitley,” he says softly. “The reason you delivered those drugs was because Cade threatened your life, is that correct?”

  “Objection,” the pudgy defense complains, standing up.

  The judge gives him a look that tells him to shut up and he sits down. “Sustained. Witness, you may answer.”

  “Yes. Cade told me if I didn’t deliver the drugs to Sydney, he’d kill me.”

  “What did he tell you he’d do if you got caught while attempting to deliver the drugs?”

  I take a deep breath. “Cade said he’d wait for me to get out of jail, and if I turned him in to the authorities, he’d have his friends kill my family.” A shudder ripples through my body and I look at my lawyer’s eyes.

  “Is it fair to say Cade Fryerson is a danger to society?”

  “Objection.” Pudgy attorney slams his hands on the desk. “Calls for speculation.”

  The judge adjusts his thin reading glasses on his nose. “Rephrase, Prosecution.”

  Lenard plays with his suspenders. “Would it be fair to say you would be scared for your life if Cade Fryerson were to be released?”

  I knot my hands and lift my head slowly, looking at Cade. He shifts under my scrutiny, but he keeps his eyes on mine. Pleading, hoping. He doesn’t look so intimidating now. Years in prison haven’t been kind, but he doesn’t look like the monster I left here years ago.

  “Based on the Cade I knew, I’d be very scared to live in a world where he was free.” I don’t take my eyes off of him and his shoulders collapse. A tear cascades from his eye and he nods his head.

  Does he understand?

  He ruined my childhood. He turned all the decent things I had going on in my life corrupt. Does he accept why I have to be unforgiving? I can’t take any chances. This is my life, here. I can’t let him take it away again after all that I’ve accomplished in the amount of time he’s been gone.

  Maybe he isn’t he, anymore. Maybe he’s just he, now. No more menace. No more malice.

  Doesn’t change the past. Doesn’t bring back Sydney.

  Lenard turns to the Jury. “Cade Fryerson endangered countless lives, killed a child and left this woman.” He points at me. “Almost dead on the side of the road. She wouldn’t have survived if a kind Samaritan hadn’t stopped.”

  Lenard winks and motions for the pudgy defense attorney.

  Cross-examinations suck ass.

  “Is it true you knew you were selling drugs to a young woman?” he fires at me.

  “I thought it was marijuana.”

  He crosses his feet. “So, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t look in the bag to what you were actually selling?”

  I shake my head. “No. I was told to take the money, exchange the bag and go. If I did anything other than that, I would be reprimanded.”

  “And were you? Reprimanded on occasion?” he pushes.

  “Yes.”

  “Did anyone ever see your bruises or lacerations that Cade supposedly left on your body?”

  “No, because he only ever hit me in places that could be covered up.”

  “So, one could say Cade never really hit you because it wasn’t brought to the attention of your parents or the authorities?”

  “Objection! Inflammatory,” Lenard chastises.

  If that isn’t prejudice, I don’t know what is.

  Judge gives the attorney a cut look. “Overruled.”

  The attorney sneers. “Was the only instance anyone knew about your injuries the night of the incident when Cade was under the influence?”

  I sulk. “Yes.”

  “Did you serve time for your role in the incident?”

  “Objection,” Lenard voices.

  The attorney turns to Lenard and gives him an innocent look.

  Lenard stares back. “It’s not relevant for the Jury to know whether Miss Sanders served or not. She is not on trail.”

  “She should be,” the Defense mumbles.

  The judge slams his gavel on the podium “Enough. Defense, you are overruled. Ask a relevant question, or sit down.”

  He’s trying to get me worked up, and I will not let him win. I don’t care how changed Cade is now; he needs to serve his time.

  “Fine. No further questions.” He walks back to his desk and sits next to Cade. Cade looks back to me, his eyes worried.

  For him or me, I’m not sure.

  “Whitley, how long were you and Cade together before the incident?”

  “Almost a year.”

  “And, when did you realize he was dangerous?”

  “Not long after,” I admit.

  “Is there a reason why you didn’t say anything to anyone?”

  My eyes begin to blur and I nod. “You do funny things when you think you’re in love.”

  “Do you believe Cade loved you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Do you believe he had your best interest at heart?”

  I clear my throa
t. “No. Cade was only out for Cade. The rest of us simply got in the way.”

  “Do you believe Cade knew that the deceased, Sydney, was only fifteen?”

  “Yes.”

  “Objection,” the defense speaks up.

  “Sustained,” the judge decides.

  “Yes,” I repeat.

  “Do you know that for sure?”

  “Yes,” I reply. “Sydney frequently visited Cade’s house.”

  “How often did you deliver drugs to Cade’s ‘clients?’” Lenard digs.

  “Only once.” I bow my head in shame.

  “And that was to Sydney?”

  “Yes.”

  Lenard gives me a bow. “The prosecution rests. Thank you, Judge.”

  The judge looks to the defense attorney and he shakes his head. “Miss Sanders, you may return to your seat. Thank you.”

  I nod my head and stand up, looking out into the courtroom.

  Scanning over the faceless people, one set of eyes makes me pause.

  Jennings sits in the back, with his arms crossed and his eyes trained on me. When our eyes meet, the tiniest of smiles appears on his face and he waves once. I blink a few times, and return to my seat without a second look.

  “The Jury finds Cade Fryerson guilty on all counts. He will serve the rest of his time without the possibility of parole.”

  I breathe a sigh of reprieve and wipe the tears away from my eyes. My cheeks are soaked, and the saltiness hasn’t stopped since I got off the stand. Watching Cade recount the events of that night, brought it all to a head and I had a hard time keeping the sobs under control.

  It didn’t take the jury long to come to a conclusion and I haven’t been able to talk to Jennings.

  “You did good, kid,” Lenard praises. “You did it.”

  I stand and shake his hand. “Thank you. I’m glad it’s over.”

  “I hope you have a good life, Whitley. It’s time to move on. Cade will be here for a very long time.”

  I nod my head.

  “I better not see you again.” He gives me a pointed look.

  “Yes, sir,” I laugh.

  I turn from Lenard and look around the empty courtroom. Jennings is nowhere to be found. So, I hitch my purse on my shoulder and walk out feeling lighter than I’ve felt in years.

  Jennings may not have stayed, and I understand why, but at least he came. His presence was enough to get me through. I couldn’t thank him enough.

  The heavy door clanks against the wall, and the hallway screams silence. My heels clack on the linoleum tile as I hurriedly rush out of the building. Pushing open the double doors, I stand outside and close my eyes, taking in a breath of fresh air. Hugging my purse to my chest, I let myself imagine a life where I’m not sure if Cade will be lurking in the shadows.

  Maybe he isn’t the same person who he once was, I don’t know. But, he’ll be locked behind bars for a very long time. In my heart, I know people can change. Significant events can turn a person around. Whether he’s found some sort of higher belief or not, I believe any person can be moral. They simply have to want to be. The change is within us.

  “Hey, Pretty Girl,” Jennings says behind me.

  I turn quickly, looking at him. My heart stops and I gulp. Dressed in a tailored navy suit, black tie and black shirt, he looks regal. His hair is much longer now. The sides are cut close to his head, but the top is long and combed back. His Ray Bans, still the same, rest on his face, but he looks restless. I can see the anxiety behind his sunglasses and I have to stop myself from hurling my body to him. There isn’t anything I want more than to lose myself in his arms.

  “Hi,” I articulate, light and breathy, sounding slightly like a moron. “What are you doing here?”

  We’re feet from each other. He had been sitting on the bench when I came out and he’d only stood up to get my attention. He didn’t move to me. I didn’t move to him. But, as I ask my question, we gravitate toward each other. He takes a step, and I mimic his moves.

  “I couldn’t let you do this alone, Whitley,” he answers, taking off his glasses, sticking them in his jacket pocket. “Nothing is as important as you.”

  I shake my head and toss my purse over my head so it’s sitting over my chest. “I don’t even know how you knew about me being here. I’m not exactly your problem anymore.”

  He blinks, but stays quiet.

  “Jennings,” I choke out, rubbing my eyes. The tears are threatening to fall and I really don’t want to cry. Something amazing just happened and my buzz is very close to being killed.

  In three steps, he’s in front of me, eyes determined, scooping me up in a bone-crushing hug. And, for a moment, I let myself believe that he’s here because he misses me. That he’s here because he actually wants to be. Not because he feels obligated. I wrap my arms around his strong shoulders and breathe him in. I let my head fall to his chest and cocoon myself into his embrace. Closing my eyes, I let him take me away for a little bit.

  The sky crackles with thunder and his grip on me tightens. I tug and pull on his sports jacket, bringing him closer.

  “I’ve missed you, Pretty Girl,” he murmurs.

  I whimper.

  “Every second I’m away from you is agony.”

  A sob rips from my mouth and I push further into him.

  “I don’t want you to misunderstand. Leaving you, here, is the better thing to do. But, I so desperately want to pretend that we can be together. I can’t make myself leave.”

  “Please, don’t,” I cry, clutching with all of my might.

  “I won’t,” he promises. “I won’t leave right now.”

  I weep into his coat, grateful. I know he can’t stay. I know we can’t stay like this forever, I know he can’t be mine and I can’t be his, but I’ll take this. His presence, his support is what I need. I didn’t know I needed it, but like my lungs constrict and take in air, he helps heal the shattered pieces of my life. Today was a step in the right direction.

  I’m going to hold onto hope that there’s a story to be told. My story. Not a sad and depressing story about a girl who made mistakes, but of a girl who came out of the negativity and found herself. Maybe my story will be a love story. Epic and classic, maybe even happy.

  Maybe…

  Thump, thump.

  IT’S NOT EVERY DAY you become a hero in a story. Let alone your own story.

  Going to Scarsdale wasn’t in my plans. In fact, when Holli told me about Whitley’s trip home, I didn’t think anything of it. Holli gave me an address, a time, and told me to wear a suit.

  That’s it. Nothing else.

  I had to figure the rest out.

  I left Holli’s dressing room with my thoughts jumbled and my heart conflicted. It was utterly clear that Whitley was in some sort of trouble. I just wasn’t sure if it was my problem anymore. I sort of gave up that right when I left her crying on her doorstep.

  As the days went on, though, I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if I was doing wrong by Whitley. Was I letting my burdens effect Whitley’s life? Because I was scared for her, did I somehow make her life worse?

  Thoughts like that swam in my mind for weeks, troubling me. Inconveniencing my every thought. My days became longer, tougher. It became more difficult to fall asleep, and even more challenging to wake up. Whitley preoccupied my dreams and I wished I could stay in a world where I wasn’t me. The territory that comes along with being Jennings—it is almost too much to handle sometimes. My life comes with a lot of good. A lot of fun. A lot of freedom. It also comes with some burdens. And, there isn’t a burden bigger than Whitley.

  I have zero regrets in my life. Not one.

  That is, until Whitley.

  Letting her slip through my fingers would forever be my biggest regret.

  And, when I came to that realization, it was like stepping out of the fog. Finally being able to see clearly.

  I do not live with regrets.

  Guilt isn’t something I swallow easily.


  I had to make it right.

  So, I hopped on my jet and landed in Kansas just before the time Holli gave me. I stood outside the courthouse astonished.

  What in the hell was I doing here?

  What was Whitley doing here?

  What has she not told me?

  But, as I sat in the courtroom and watched Whit with a lawyer, I felt more like a fly on the wall. Almost like it didn’t feel right being here, listening to forensics and investigators go on and on about this event that Whitley was somehow involved.

  Whitley didn’t see me that first day. I slipped out and went to my hotel. I didn’t want to distract her. The judge was very adamant that she would take the stand the second day. I knew I couldn’t leave. I had to find out. I had to be there for her. I had to find out the truth. Even if she didn’t want to give it to me.

  When she finally saw me, it was like the veil was finally pulled back from my eyes. Seeing her, mere feet from me, woke me up. That long slumber that I stayed in the past few months, it no longer existed. Now is all that mattered. The range of emotions that I felt while she was on the stand practically surged from me. Her hurt, it was palpable. Her shame, tangible. It was heartbreaking. Watching her break apart and not being able to do anything about it. That was the last straw for me. Not being able to be there for her, to comfort her and help take the pain away, I couldn’t stand back and let her fight this battle alone. She was no longer a her, she was an us. It’s idiotic and stupid, but giving her a life without me…it just doesn’t work. I don’t work. Me without her, doesn’t work.

  She and I no longer existed apart. It would only be us from now on.

  So, when it began to rain, it felt appropriate. Rain has always been a constant in our relationship. We’ve made connections and fallen in the rain. We said goodbye as the drops fell and now we are finding each other as it cascades over us.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say into her hair.

  She nods her head and I let her go, only to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her with me to my rental.

  “My car?”

  “We’ll come get it later.”

  She agrees.

  When we arrive at my hotel, I shut off the engine and grab her hand.

  “You know?” she says, turning toward me. “My life has always been a sea of black and white. It was or it wasn’t. I was happy or sad. Never in between. I lived life in this colorless, miserable world for so long, I didn’t know the difference between living and existing. Every day was the same. And for so many years, I simply endured life. Never really finding my way. I was lost.” She stops to cover her mouth, eyes shining. “I—I am lost. Still even with everything that’s happening, even with you knowing my deepest, darkest secret, I can’t seem to find the grey in the world. Cade may be locked up, but life is still just my existence.”