Page 32 of Desert Loyalties

SKYE

Two out of four. Not bad.

Instead of four felonies, he's only facing two now. It’s a win, technically but no one’s popping champagne.

We don’t celebrate. We just head back to the house, where Christina’s already making plans, thinking ten steps ahead like always.

She wants to go over what happens next and what she needs from us to defend him.

The drive back is weirdly quiet.

Christina’s in a separate car, probably with her assistant. That leaves just me and him. I’m relieved and tense all at once, like the decision today gave me permission to breathe again but only halfway.

He’s staring out the window, then suddenly says, “We should go away.”

I glance over. “What?”

He turns to me. “Once this is over… let’s go on a honeymoon or something.”

I smile. “Somewhere cold. Maybe the mountains.”

He laughs, low. “Or the beach.”

“Just so you know,” I say, keeping my voice light, “I’m working on a few things in case this doesn’t work out.”

He side-eyes me. “Few things…”

“You’re not going to jail, babe,” I say, grinning. “Not on my watch.”

We pull into the driveway just a second before the other car. Christina’s already climbing out with her assistant, briefcase in one hand, phone in the other, mid-sentence. She doesn’t even glance back, she’s locked into lawyer mode now.

Before I open the door, I feel Drake’s hand close over mine.

I turn to him. He’s not just looking, he’s seeing me. Focused, steady. Holding the moment as if it matters more than the next ten.

“We already beat this halfway,” I say, squeezing his fingers. “It’s just in case.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Lifting my hand, he kisses the back of it.

“You need a ring,” he says.

I smile. “I already have a patch.”

He smiles back, sweet and possessive, all at once. “You could never look too much mine.”

“I’ll get us matching bands tomorrow.”

Drake chuckles as we head inside . Christina’s already claimed the dining table and turned it into a war room. It’s covered in files, legal pads, highlighters, and tabs. Organized chaos. The kind of mess that means she’s already five steps ahead.

She barely looks up when we walk in. “Take a seat,” she says, gesturing towards the side where I can still see the table, a little bit. “Jonah’s making coffee.”

I raise an eyebrow. “In our house? Wait, how’d you even get in?”

She doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Just starts sorting through a stack of documents.

We sit. Drake leans back, calmly watching her closely.

“Alright,” Christina says, finally focusing on us. “Here’s where we are.”

She speaks fast, but her words are clear. She’s not just talking to herself anymore. She’s translating it all for us, in a language we can actually understand.

“We’re moving to trial,” she says. “That means a few things change. First, we get a new judge, one who’ll actually be presiding over the case, not just handling pre-trial stuff.”

I nod slowly. Drake doesn’t move, just listens.

“The prosecution will likely offer a plea deal sometime soon. They usually do once we’re past the prelim. I mean they already offered one, but this’ll be more realistic. Whether we take it depends on what they offer, and what evidence they don’t have.”

Drake snorts. “So, nothing.”

Christina gives him a look. “We’ll see. But if we don’t take a deal, it goes to trial. That’s when things get real.”

She sets the file down and looks at both of us. “One thing we’ll need to decide sooner rather than later is whether we go with a jury trial or a bench trial.”

Drake lifts an eyebrow. “That a trick question?”

“Not at all,” Christina says. “In a jury trial, twelve people from the community listen to the evidence and decide the verdict. In a bench trial, it’s just the judge. No jury. Just law.”

I shift in my seat. “And you think we should go judge-only?”

She nods slowly. “Leaning that way, yeah.”

Drake crosses his arms. “Why?”

Christina’s tone stays calm. “Because this case is thin on hard evidence.

No body. No murder weapon. No direct witness.

Just a CI who vanished, a lot of noise, and the government's suspicion. A jury could be swayed by that, by the drama of it all. The implication of gang ties, the tattoos, the lifestyle.”

She looks at Drake. “No offense, but you're an easy person for a jury to stereotype.”

He gives a dry chuckle. “None taken.”

“A judge, though?” Christina continues. “Judges deal in facts. In law. Not how you look walking into the courtroom, well they care a little. If we go bench trial, we’re asking someone trained to separate emotion from logic to focus on what the prosecution doesn’t have and they don’t have enough.”

I frown. “Isn’t a jury supposed to do the same thing?”

“In theory. But juries are human,” Christina says. “They get caught up. If the prosecution tells a good story, even without solid proof, that can still land. But a judge is harder to fool with narrative alone.”

Drake leans forward. “So, you think we’ve got a better shot banking on logic?”

“I think if this stays circumstantial, no body, no smoking gun, we’re better off with a bench trial. But that decision isn’t ours alone. Even if we ask for it, the judge has to approve it too. Prosecution can oppose it but they don’t have much sway here.”

He nods. “Alright.”

She flips a page and continues, businesslike.

“There’ll still be pretrial hearings and motions to file.

I’ll handle those. If we go to trial, Drake, you’ll be in court every day.

No exceptions. You won’t testify unless I think it helps us and in a bench trial, that decision gets even more surgical. ”

Drake nods once, jaw clenched.

I lean forward, locking eyes with her. “So, when will we find out if the judge grants the bench trial, or if it goes to a jury?”

She nods, as if expecting the question. “According to federal law, the decision on whether to grant a bench trial usually happens quickly, often within a few days to a couple of weeks after the request is filed. The judge reviews the motion and the circumstances, then makes a ruling. We won’t have to wait long before we know. ”

Jonah reappears with a tray I didn’t even know we owned and four steaming, mismatched mugs. He sets them down in front of us without a word. Christina doesn’t even pause, just grabs the closest one and keeps going.

“I’m going to prep both of you separately for the next phase. What to say, what not to say, how to keep a straight face when opposing counsel goes fishing for anything that smells guilty.”

“There’s something else,” I say, sliding my hand across the table until it covers Drake’s. Our fingers lock. “Drake and I… we got married. Yesterday.”

Christina blinks once. “Perfect.”

Jonah grins. “Congrats.”

Christina echoes a beat later. “Congratulations.”

I shrug, smiling a little. “We just wanted to make it official.”

Christina lifts a brow, raising her mug. “Then say exactly that. Word for word.”

I must look confused, because she leans forward slightly. “If they try to put you on the stand, I’ll revoke spousal privilege. And that may raise questions, the prosecution will try to paint it as calculated, something to protect him, or you. Just keep it about love. Always.”

Drake nods. “Got it.”

Christina sets her mug down. “Now, heads up. The prosecution’s going to try and paint you—” she points at Drake “—as an emotionally detached monster who manipulated and eliminated a friend. And to do that, they’re going to subpoena people who know you. Especially from the club.”

“They’d never betray me,” Drake says, calm but firm.

Christina doesn’t flinch, but her eyes are flat.

“They won’t have a choice, Drake. A subpoena isn’t a request, it’s an order.

And even if they don’t say anything harmful, the way they look with their muscles, tats, vests, nicknames, it all sends a message.

I’ve been to the clubhouse. I mean, is ‘six-foot and built like a battering ram’ part of the membership requirements?

And don’t get me started on the names. Knuckles?

Ice? Really? At least yours isn’t so bad.

That’s probably the only reason the prosecution isn’t slipping it into every question they ask. ”

Drake and I just smile, because what else can we do?

She sighs, flipping through her binder again.

“We’re still early in the process. Discovery hasn’t fully landed yet, but it’s coming.

Within the next two weeks, the prosecution is required to turn over everything they plan to use at trial- witness lists, reports, physical evidence.

And anything they’re legally obligated to disclose that could help us. ”

“And then?” I ask.

“Then we’ll go through every line. See what motions we can file.

Try to suppress anything weak or prejudicial.

I’ll also be preparing our side- witnesses, exhibits.

Judges have a pretty busy docket, the more straightforward your side, the more they like you, so I’m gonna try to argue our side while the prosecution lays theirs. ”

“And the trial date?”

“We’ll get a firm one at the next status conference. Could be a little under eight weeks. The court already said this is a fast-track case. That means no delays, no extensions unless something serious happens. So, from now on, we stay ready.”

Jonah tops off her coffee again. Christina doesn’t thank him, just keeps reading.

Then she glances up. “You two need to be airtight. No off-script moments. No social media. No cryptic texts that could be twisted. You’re married now? Good. Be boring. Be wholesome. No drama. No headlines. And for the love of God, no more surprises.”

Drake chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.”