Page 36

Killian

“The senator isn’t the one on trial here. We’re here because a man decided to take the law into his own hands, and if we let that go, where does it end? I rest my case.”

As he takes his seat, I find it hard not to look over at Espn Finney — one of the best prosecutors in the state. He’s right. I did take the law into my own hands, and the world is better because of it. Where does it end? It ends with the upper percenters thinking twice before stepping on those they deem lesser than them.

But I can’t say that.

It’s surreal to be sitting here at my own closing statements after how many shows and movies I’ve watched. They portray it well and not so well all at the same time, because although they hit the cliff notes, they never talk about how many hours all of it takes. They don’t talk about the long pauses that only get broken up by someone’s dry cough, the chaos and confusion that goes on behind the scenes or how many recesses people actually have to take.

It feels like I’ve been sitting here for days with my chin held high when all I’ve wanted to do is lay it down and give up. I know this is all part of my dues, but goddamn, am I over it all. I thought I’d have Joey to look at in those moments where I was feeling hopeless, but with the media blast, they ensured the doors were closed. It left me with absolutely no support on my side, and Senator Lawson’s family on his.

If only I would have married her. I dismiss the thought as quickly as it comes, because although I absolutely want to marry that woman, I don’t want it to be like this. I won’t tie her to me if I’ll never be free again, not even I’m that selfish.

When it’s my lawyer’s turn the next day, she immediately goes into all the holes the prosecution left in their case. She reminds them of all the possible suspects without ever saying any names, shows them the proof of how many people loop their K’s like I do, and even ties some of those examples to people who work in Lawson’s office. She reminds them where that evidence came from and how Krystal obviously held a grudge against me, making her an unreliable narrator. She shows everyone here why she has such a high rating in this field, and how if you go up against her, she will poke holes in every piece of your evidence without breaking a sweat. She’s absolutely amazing, and I wouldn’t have been able to even afford a consultation with her if it wasn’t for Joey and her family.

“I ask each and every one of you to put yourself in Mr. Blake’s shoes. His mother was the only family he had, and she died in his arms thanks to Senator Jack Lawson. Did my client go off grid a few months ago and cut ties with people from his past? Yes, he did. But it wasn’t because he was hiding from the law, it was because he was hiding from his reality. In the middle of nowhere Washington, this young man decided to start anew in a place where he wasn’t reminded of the mother he lost, a place where after everything he endured, he opened up his heart and found love. Can you say without a reasonable doubt that he deserves to have that stripped from him? After everything this world has taken from him, the prosecution stands here and demands more.”

She clicks a button on her remote and shows the jury a photo of my mom and me completely soaked from the rain, the image punching me in the gut even though she previously warned me she’d be using it. I remember that outing clearly because it was the day she was taken from me.

“Don’t send an innocent man to prison because the prosecution is desperate for a scapegoat. Killian Blake isn’t guilty of murder, his only crimes are loving his mother so much he had to run from her ghost, and having blue eyes that may or may not resemble the perpetrator depending on the angle of the grainy photo evidence they have. We don’t convict people for cutting off old classmates and ex girlfriends, and we do not convict people for having pretty eyes.”

I feel a tear slide down my cheek and do my best to discreetly wipe it away before anyone can see it as I tune out the rest of her closing statement.

I don’t want their sympathy. If a jury of my peers decides that I’m guilty and deserve to be in prison, then so be it. I may not be admitting my guilt in this courtroom, but that doesn’t mean I don’t carry my sins with me everywhere I go. I killed him, fully aware I might rot in prison for the rest of my life if I was ever caught, but the prospect of that being my future now bothers me. Not because I don’t deserve it, but because of her.

Joey doesn’t deserve it.

We found each other in the darkest time of our lives, became each other’s light, and the thought of leaving her out there in the darkness all alone might kill me.

So no, I don’t want their sympathy, but it would be nice if they saw this crime for exactly the karma it was. If they decided the crime was justified, or the prosecution was just plain weak. I don’t really care which, I just need them to let me go home to my woman.

We can disappear to our cabin and live out our days in the only place we’ve ever truly felt home.

I’ll carry the weight of my skeletons no matter where I live, but with her by my side, those bones are far less crushing than they are when we’re apart.

When everything is said and done and the jury files out with my life in the palm of their hands, I find myself wishing Joey was in here with me once again. I’ve needed her presence to help me breathe during this court hearing more than a few times, so once again, I close my eyes and imagine her sitting right behind me in support.

I wouldn’t be here at all if she and her family didn’t rally behind me, and for that, I will forever be grateful they have my back. I just hope I get to thank them in person soon and one day prove to them it was all worth it.

That I’m worth it.