Page 35 of Between Regrets and Promises (Between Us Trilogy #2)
MASON
Fuck my life.
It’s the first thing on my mind Monday morning when Serena texts me to let me know she’s on her way to pick me up.
Thanks to my dad for bailing me out, I didn’t have to spend the past two nights in jail, but knowing he’s going to be in court and give me grief for getting into trouble again , I’d almost wish I did.
It pisses me off that he was able to pull his title to get me in front of a judge this morning.
I don’t want special treatment from anyone.
“Looking sharp,” Serena says the moment I get inside her car and buckle up. “Minus the dark circles under your eyes.”
I turn and glare at her.
“It’s gonna be fine,” she tries to reassure me, but it doesn’t work. I haven’t been this anxious since the last time I was dragged into court five years ago.
“Sure, it is,” I mutter. “Especially when I have a big X on my name already.”
“Look, you know the truth. If it goes to trial, you have two witnesses to help persuade the jury. Not to mention Weston’s criminal and abusive history and the fact he was carrying a gun illegally.”
I stare out the window. “Yeah, it looks good from that perspective, but the judge is gonna dig up my history too.”
“You weren’t charged with anything back then either. Rightfully.”
Serena leans over and pats my leg when we hit a red light. “I’ve got your back, Mason. Always have.”
I turn and give her a grateful smile. “I know.”
We arrive at the courthouse for my arraignment where the charges will be explained and I’ll be asked to enter a plea.
If the prosecutor decides to try the case, the judge will schedule a trial date and ask for discoveries to prove guilt or innocence.
I have no idea what to expect although I should, but my stomach is so damn twisted I can’t think or breathe.
Once my case number is called, Serena ushers me inside, and we stand at the podium.
There are a few people in the pews, but I am quite shocked when I don’t see my father.
I told Hunter and Liam not to come until it was crucial for them to get involved.
They’d already given their witness statements, so anything more would be done in depositions.
We watch as the judge takes his seat, calling out the case number once he’s done, and he asks the prosecutor to start. Once they give the information of the potential charges, the judge faces me.
“How does your client plead?”
I speak up with Serena to my side. “Not guilty, your Honor,” I respond, my voice shaky though I’m trying to sound confident.
We wait as he looks over the information in front of him.
He has all the police files thus far as well as the statements.
After the judge breaks down the events of that night, Serena explains that I reacted in self-defense.
Then the prosecutor makes a smartass comment about how the victim once again isn’t here to give his side.
And my last name strikes again.
He knows damn well I’m the DA’s son, and my father isn’t the most liked man either. Those involved in public service are all shady fucks. Too many innocent people are locked up while too many criminals get a slap on the wrist.
As soon as the thought hits me, the courtroom doors swing open, causing us all to turn and look.
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter, and Serena shushes me.
“He’s probably here to support you,” she says, and we both know that’s a bold face lie. My father is never anywhere unless it’s to benefit himself.
“Attorney Holt,” the judge chides. “Your interruption?—”
“I apologize, Judge Harris, but as the defendant’s alternate lawyer, I have been informed of a video that will show Mason was acting in self-defense and thought you should see it right away.”
Alternate lawyer ? I snort to myself, which makes Serena jab me in the ribs.
The judge waves him up and gives him a look like this better not waste my time. The way they whisper to each other, it’s obvious they have some kind of work relationship. The judge says something about using his title to my advantage, which makes me grind my teeth in anger.
“Officer, can you get a screen in here so we can present the discovery?” the judge directs his order.
A few minutes pass all while my dad refuses to look at me, and I wonder what the hell kind of video he could possibly have or where he got it from. If me being here didn’t drag his name through the mud, he wouldn’t go through the trouble.
My dad inserts the thumb drive and surveillance footage appears.
Though it’s in black and white and a little grainy, it’s obvious it’s from an outside camera near the reception hall.
I can see Weston’s back as he waves his gun at the three of us, and I plead with him to put the weapon down.
Though there isn’t any sound, everyone can see he threatened us with it, held us at gun point, and I tried to get it out of his grip in self-defense.
He blew two warning shots off before I charged him.
Relief floods through me the minute the video ends, and the judge calls my father back up. He’s asking him how he obtained it, and he’s claiming the gas station owner sought him out and gave it to him.
Serena and I look at each other, knowing it’s a bold face lie. I wouldn’t put it past my father to go looking for such a video and demanding it. Legally, he’d need a warrant to obtain it, but my father’s practices aren’t always known to be legal.
The prosecutor then tries to argue that the video could’ve been tampered with to make the DA’s son look innocent. My father glares over his shoulder, daring him to push his limits.
If I weren’t the one being accused, I’d almost believe my dad would go to the necessary means to tamper with such evidence, but considering what happened, I’m tempted to shoot a glare at him myself.
Though it goes to show by the prosecutor’s accusation that corruption and bribes and anything else aren’t too far-fetched in this situation.
“Your Honor, I would not have had the time nor risk my ethics as the district attorney to do such a thing,” my father says loud and clear. “The prosecutor is free to analyze the video themselves if that would untwist their testicles.”
Serena’s eyes nearly fall out of her head at my father’s bold words. He has balls of steel, that’s for sure. I, on the other hand, am not one bit shocked that he’ll do or say whatever it takes to win a case.
“That’s enough, Attorney Holt,” the judge snaps. My father raises his hands up in mock surrender with a small smirk playing on his lips.
“My apologies,” my father chastises the prosecutor.
“Due to direct evidence of the incident, it’s clear the defendant was acting in self-defense to protect himself and his two friends.
The victim’s weapon was brought out illegally, and even after the defendant tried to surrender, the victim continued to make threats to his life.
This case is dismissed. You’re free to go. ”
My heart fucking drops.
Holy shit.
Serena turns toward me, but I stand frozen in shock. “Mason! Oh my God.” She wraps her arms around me, but I can’t move. I was so damn certain I was going to be preparing for a trial to prove my innocence in front of a jury.
She escorts me out of the courtroom, my head spinning as I wrap my mind around it. I knew Serena told me not to worry, but I know firsthand how our justice system can screw innocent people. I wrestled a man with a gun, and it went off and killed him.
In some people’s eyes, I’m sure they’d think justice wasn’t served at all. But I know the truth of what happened that night.
Once we’re out in the parking lot, I meet up with my father by his Range Rover. He’s not parked in his usual spot, which means he came today just for me. Well not me , but to make sure I didn’t make him look bad again.
“Mason,” he says curtly with his hands in his pockets.
“Dad,” I respond, mimicking his stance.
“Mr. Holt,” Serena says behind me. “Thank you for providing the evidence on such short notice. Saved me a lot of work…” Then she smirks. “Less billable hours.” She winks because we both know she’d never charge me.
“Just doing my job,” he states, though we both know it’s a load of shit.
“Right.” She flicks her gaze to me. “I’ll meet you at the car. Good to see you again,” she tells my father before walking away, leaving us in an awkward silence.
“You look like shit,” he begins.
“Thanks for noticing.” I grunt.
“You been sleeping?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
“You wanna tell me what provoked that fight in the first place?” He crosses his arms over his chest, straightening his stance. He stands well over six feet, his body large and demanding. “Or tell me how you got yourself into that situation?”
There’s judgment in his tone. His questions aren’t borne out of sincerity or genuine concern.
“A friend of mine was dating him. He’d been hitting her, and he showed up that night shit-faced. My friend arrived with a black eye, and we were chasing him out of the reception hall before he started a scene at the wedding.”
“There was history there previously,” he says, not asking. “I could tell.”
“Yeah, we threw some words and punches before the first time I suspected he was hurting her.”
“This girl sounds like an idiot if she stayed after he hit her once,” he blurts, making me see red.
“She’s not,” I grit between my teeth. “She’s a victim, and if I hadn’t confronted him that night, I have no doubt he would’ve killed her. He had threatened it more than once.”
Just saying that aloud causes my heart to pound.
“Yeah, I read the police reports,” he says gruffly, his lips in a firm line. “Still don’t understand why you had to get involved.”
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to see the hollow part of his chest where his heart should be. “Because she’s a friend and it’s important to me.”
“Yeah, well, remember the last time you had an important girl in your life.”