by Brynn Ford
I nodded in acknowledgement that I heard him, that I wanted to do that, but I struggled to turn my gaze to the severity of Asher's eyes. Law was unrequited love at my side and Asher was passionate hatred pulsing from across the room and it hurt from every angle.
"Angel," Law's voice was calm, supportive, insistent, "Ris, look at him. Let him know you're not afraid of him."
"But I am," I admitted in a hushed voice.
"Fake it until you make it, sweetheart. I've got you."
I could snap my head to look into Law's eyes, feed him my anger and pain for the way he acted as if nothing had happened. But that would hurt more and be far less productive than meeting Asher's glare.
With a deep breath, I looked up, right into the gray eyes of the abusive bastard who had something up his sleeve. His eyes were narrowed at me and his wide grin looked devious, sick, twisted.
Everything inside me screamed at me to look away. But Law was right. Looking away would only show my weakness. It would only give him an opening to steal power from me.
I'm a switch, asshole.
I decide when I give power and when I take it.
I held his stare and countered his devilish grin with one of my own, letting it leisurely spread across my face with all of the contempt I felt inside for him. The remainder of the opening arguments seemed to last a lifetime this way as Asher and I engaged in a stare down.
It was reminiscent of all of the times over the past year that he and I fought over my desire to switch. Every time I asked him to submit in play became a fight between us, a struggle for power. It didn't matter to him that he had agreed to allow that switch in our relationship. He had simply turned on me a year in. Now was no different.
The dominant side of me took over, building from deep within my gut and radiating out through my entire body. The shift gave me vigor to push through this power play of the eyes. It was deeper than that, really, it was a power play of the soul. I huffed in a determined breath and let my grin morph into a sneer, showing him my internal fortitude.
I heard Law draw in a slow, deep breath just before curling his fingers around mine, interlocking them to grip me tighter. I forgot about everything with him and squeezed back, holding onto him as he lifted our hands together. It nearly made me falter when his plush lips brushed lightly across my knuckles. The contact with Law made my skin prickle. I didn't look way from Asher, but out of the corner of my eye, I could see Law lift one of his fingers away from where our hands were gripped.
His middle finger.
In true, bold, Law fashion, he was flipping off my criminal ex-boyfriend in a court of law while kissing my hand.
I wanted to slap him, scold him, remind him that every action of mine was being watched and scrutinized in these proceedings. But I didn't. I allowed it because the most magical thing happened as a result of Law's juvenile finger flip.
Asher's lips twitched, threatening a frown of disapproval, and then he looked away.
He looked away.
He couldn't take it.
Asher was jealous.
I wanted to cheer but instead I smiled so broadly my cheeks hurt. It was a stupid thing to be so ridiculously happy over, but it was a small victory for me and I really needed it.
Law whispered, "I've always got your back. No matter what."
I never got the chance to respond because Darcy Jackson stole my attention.
"Our defense will show that the allegations made against Dr. Asher Fallon are not only lacking in credibility, but were clearly made in slander, a grievous attempt made by Miss Christine Warren to defame the character of this upstanding citizen,” Darcy gestured dramatically toward Asher.
Slander?
Defame his character?
Upstanding citizen?
My mouth gaped as I became suddenly aware of the plan of defense Darcy and Asher had come up with. They were going to attack my credibility, rip me to shreds, just like she had with my client all those years ago.
A case I had lost.
Law stiffened at my side, bringing our hands down slowly and gripping my fingers tightly before holding my hand rigidly against his thigh. I felt the immediate need to separate myself from him, to distance myself from him for his sake, regardless of what was going on with our relationship, or lack thereof.
There was no doubt in my mind that Black Ties and the things that went on there would be brought into the public eye during this trial. If Darcy was going to attack my credibility, she would surely dig deep as hell into my personal activities. She would drag me through the mud and I needed to protect Law from being dragged through with me.
I pulled my hand free from his, laying it in my lap. I clasped my own hands together and held tight, hoping to mask the trembling of nerves that would give me away.
* * * * *
Darcy turned up her nose at me as I was called to take the stand at Asher's trial. That nose of hers was as small and unmentionable as her bleak personality. I'd kept my mind focused on the fight to come during the initial proceedings by taking stock of her every feature, each twitch and tell, the words and tactics she used in the interest of winning. I felt as ready as I could be to tell my side of the story as I settled calmly into my seat after being sworn in.
It was a whole new view of the courtroom for me and I could feel the stress crawling under my skin, threatening to leech out through my pores and slick my skin with sweat. I did my best to mask my anxiety, letting myself slip into my domineering, confident, and controlled side.
I was asked to retell the two counts of attempted murder that Asher was being charged with. The first had been at Black Ties when he wrapped a rope around my neck and tried to strangle me with it, ignoring my safeword as I called out Red over and over again. The second time was when he pushed me off the curb and nearly succeeded in his attempt when I was hit by an oncoming vehicle.
I was forced to explain Black Ties, the purpose of the club, the rules, the safewords. Darcy made me walk through every excruciating detail of my personal sexual kinks on official government record. I had never been a shy person, but when it came to my reputation and my career, I was a private person. These were details that no one knew about me except for the very small handful of people I chose to tell, and those were not people I worked with. I had anticipated this line of questioning, but Darcy really dug in deep.
"Your intent in going to Black Ties then, Miss Warren, was to seek sexual gratification from physical harm. Is that correct?"
Objection.
"Objection," my friend Blake with the prosecutor's office stood up and stated, "Relevance?"
"Your honor," Darcy explained, "I'm sure the jury would appreciate Miss Warren's explanation of why a successful, intelligent woman would knowingly put herself in the position to be harmed. This bears relevance to the intent of my client's actions."
"Overruled," the judge declared and I felt sick to my stomach to answer.
"Miss Warren," Darcy began to repeat the question as any lawyer would, "Did you go to Black Ties to seek sexual –"
"I heard the question, Miss Jackson, thank you," I inhaled a deep breath, "Yes, I went to Black Ties to seek sexual gratification, and yes, sometimes that involved physical harm. With a partner I've given my consent to. With a partner who agreed to adhere to the common safewords and consent policy at Black Ties which I've already explained at length. Asher was not –"
"Thank you, Miss Warren," she cut me off.
I was surprised she had let me say as much as I had.
"Is it true that you'd asked Dr. Fallon to strangle you consensually, for your own sexual gratification, prior to the event on New Year's Eve?"
"Yes, but your client isn't being charged for consensual events that happened prior to New Year's Eve," I snapped.
Her thin lips curled upward at the corners, "That's correct, Miss Warren. How many times, would you say, that you and Dr. Fallon engaged in strangulation or in other similar acts, which your community might refer to as breath contr
ol play?"
I huffed, "I can't give you a number."
"Would you say it was more than once? More than five times?" she paused for dramatic effect, looking over at the jury, "More than twenty times?"
My eyes found a spot on the wall behind her head to focus on so I could avoid contact with all of the people in the room that knew me.
They don’t know me like this.
Thank God I was able to talk my mom and brother out of flying in for the trial.
"More than twenty times,” I responded.
"More than fifty?"
"Probably, yes," I conceded with a sigh.
"So, it might be reasonable to assume that Dr. Fallon knew you enjoyed being strangled for your own sexual gratification."
"Yes."
"And there is no evidence to suggest that you were not a willing participant in Dr. Fallon's alleged strangulation on the night in question. Is that correct?"
"That is not correct. I did not intend to participate, nor did I willingly participate in said strangulation activities with Dr. Fallon on New Year's Eve."
"I asked whether there was evidence to prove you were unwilling, Miss Warren."
"Objection. Inflammatory," Blake demanded.
What the ever-loving hell?
Where is she going with this line of questioning?
"Withdrawn," Darcy stated, "Miss Warren, are you aware of the term consensual non-consent?"
Oh, no.
Good God, please no.
"Yes."
"Could you define it for the jury?"
This bitch.
"Would you like the proper definition or Dr. Fallon's warped misunderstanding of it?"
"Miss Warren, please answer the question," the judge warned.
I looked Darcy in her soulless, dark eyes, "It can be defined differently in different contexts and for different relationships, so I'm not exactly sure how to respond in the way you're hoping."
"Please define consensual non-consent in the manner in which you and Dr. Fallon engaged."
I answered quickly before I lost my composure all together, "It's a manner of play in which all parties agree that their play will imitate non-consensual behavior."
"By non-consensual behavior, you mean…" she trailed off, awaiting my response.
"In the context of our relationship," I hesitated, shifting in my seat, "It was rape play."
"Rape play?"
Darcy asked as if this shocked her, but with Asher as her client, of course, she already knew all of this information. She was really playing it up for the jury.
"I agreed on a few occasions to pretend I was not giving consent for sexual activity though I was choosing consensually to engage."
"So basically, Miss Warren, you wanted Dr. Fallon to pretend to rape you for your own sexual enjoyment?"
"Objection, speculation."
"I'll rephrase. Did you receive sexual gratification from pretending Dr. Fallon was raping you during these occasions of consensual non-consent?"
I shot daggers at her with my eyes, "Yes."
"And during these occasions of consensual non-consent with Dr. Fallon, would you say things like 'no' and 'stop' as a part of the game?"
"Yes."
"But it was agreed upon prior to engaging that those words would not stop the activity?"
"Yes."
"So any person who were to view you and Dr. Fallon engaging in these activities without knowing the context would think you were in distress?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever engage in consensual non-consent with Dr. Fallon at Black Ties?"
I paused, "Yes."
"Is it possible that Dr. Fallon thought you were consenting to this non-consensual engagement on New Year's Eve?"
"No," I was firm, "I did not agree –"
"But you had agreed to such play in the past?"
"Yes, but we had broken up –"
"It seems to me, Miss Warren, that you frequently and willingly blurred lines of consent with Dr. Fallon. Don't you think it's possible that Dr. Fallon believed your alleged break-up was false? That he thought you wanted to engage in strangulation and, in your own crude terms, rape play on New Year's Eve? After all, you did say yourself such play wouldn't end if you said 'no' or 'stop.'"
"I said Red. Like I told you before, Black Ties has common safeword –"
"Miss Warren, what proof do you have that Dr. Fallon was, as you stated in your police report, trying to kill you that night? Given that you engaged in strangulation and breath control play with Dr. Fallon more than twenty times, as you stated, and willingly engaged in sexual activity that you crudely termed as rape play, how do you know Dr. Fallon was trying to kill you on New Year's Eve?" she crossed to the table where her briefcase lay as she spoke and grabbed a paper from the pile, "As you stated in your police report from that evening, 'Dr. Fallon wrapped a rope around my neck and tried to kill me.' Hadn't you allowed him to wrap a rope around your neck before?"
"Yes, but –"
"Miss Warren, do you have evidence that Dr. Fallon was attempting to murder you that night?"
As a lawyer, I knew I didn't have any evidence against her argument. All I had was the fact that I'd said Red over and over again, but I'd already stated that. Stating it again wasn't going to prove anything to this jury.
The only true answer to her question made me feel queasy. Because I had to answer truthfully.
"No."
Chapter 20
Desi
I couldn't believe how long they questioned Ris on the stand during Asher's trial. My stomach ached painfully by the end of it. They had left no detail of her personal sexual choices undiscussed. I had no idea they would go there and to that extreme.
I watched Ris crumble in her resolve, bit by tattered bit, as they shamed her every past decision and aired all of her secret, dirty laundry. Finally, finally, they dismissed her from questioning and went on recess until the next day.
Ris stepped down from the stand and went right for the door, not stopping to wait for me and Law, not even to grab her purse that she'd left with me. I shot to my feet, whipping around with two purses over my shoulder and took off after her at nearly a jogging pace. I heard Law calling after to me to slow down, but I ignored him. He would just have to catch up.
Just past the wooden doors were reporters.
Oh, God.
Reporters?
Why are there reporters?
It took me a few seconds to realize that's why Ris darted out of here so quickly. Dr. Asher Fallon had apparently been a well reputed psychiatrist, a detail I had never known about him until this trial. It made me feel like a shitty friend to realize I understood so little about Ris and her relationship. Now that I knew, I chose to make it my business to be there for her through this soon-to-be media circus where her own reputation would come into question.
Ris doesn't deserve any of this shit.
I got a glimpse of her golden blonde hair whipping behind her as she turned down a discreet, unmarked hallway just as Asher was being brought out of the courtroom in handcuffs beside his bitch of a lawyer. Law caught up with me just outside the crowd of hounds creeping about for a statement from Asher. He caught my elbow, grabbing firm and slowing my pace.
"Slow down, Blue, don't draw attention. Let them go harass the piece of shit so she can get some peace."
I slowed my pace to match his, but kept moving, "She needs me. I just need to get to her."
We reached the same discreet turn at the end of the hallway and Law directed me down it, as if he already knew exactly where we'd find her. There were four doors marked as offices with the names of people I didn't know, two on the left, two on the right. Law marched me right down to the end of the corridor and opened a fifth, unmarked door, showing me a large janitor's closet.
"What are we…" I trailed off as he pushed me gently inside the room.
Ris was there, in the far corner, sitting on the dingy floor with her knees pulled up to her chest. She h
ad kicked off her heels and her pencil skirt was bunched up over her thighs. Her head was on her knees and her shoulders shook from trembling sobs that I would never in a million years have expected to see from her.
She looked up as Law closed the door behind us and I rushed to her, dropping to my knees just beside her. I curled my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my side as she let her head fall over against my chest.
Ris cried so much that tears dampened my shirt. I couldn’t help my own tears pooling and falling from my face to see her hurting this way. Ris was one of the strongest women I had ever known. She had been a pillar of strength for me in my darkest time. I was trying to be strong for her but seeing her so broken like this broke me a little, too, and I had to feel her hurt along with her.
Law stood silently with his back against the door as Ris and I cried together, sobs slowly ebbing, lessening in their intensity as minutes of silence passed. Eventually, Ris lifted her head and looked at me, wiping the tears from her face.
“I’m sorry you had to hear all that, sweetie,” she reached over, swiping my tears from my cheeks with her thumb.
“Sorry? For what? I’m sad because of what they did to you. I’m sad because you’re hurting.”
“I thought you might be upset to learn how stupid I was with Asher. The things I allowed him to do to me, that I let him take control he didn’t deserve. I thought you might think less of me for being weak with him.”
“No, no, no, God, no, Ris.”
I wrapped my arms around her neck to pull her into a sideways sort of hug. Her hands came up to grip my forearm to return the affectionate gesture in our awkward side-by-side position and she leaned her head against my cheek.
“You’re beautiful and perfect and amazing,” I told her, “I’ll always think of you as a goddess, a queen, and Asher’s the most disgusting piece of shit in the world trying to knock the crown off your head.”
Ris chuckled through a sniff, “You can’t knock off a crown that never existed, sweetie.”