Page 20

~ brIDGET ~

After my bombshell about the marriage and the Judge’s recess, we were called back into the courtroom at 2 p.m. sharp . Everyone was so cold, it felt like a walk-in freezer.

My lawyers hadn’t spoken to me. They were too busy cleaning up my mess, according to Jeremy, who’d first ripped me a new asshole for not telling him, or them, about Sam. Then hovered over me like an angry father while we waited to find out what was happening.

I thought that would be the end of it. I didn’t think they’d call me back to the stand. But I was nervous. Jeremy said it served me right.

When we’d all risen for the entrance of the judge, she gave me a single, dark look, then acted like I wasn’t there.

“I will address the court and the jury for the purposes of clarifying our current situation before the witness is called,” she said in a cold, perfunctory tone, flipping through pages of a file on her desk. “We have established that both legal teams were unaware of the marital status of the accused and the witness. However, having looked into the precedent, and questioned both legal representatives, we are all in agreement that we can continue with this case without delay. Counsel, please stand and speak for the record if that is your position.”

Both lead attorneys stood up from behind their tables and nodded to the Judge.

“Yes, your Honor. ”

“Yes, your Honor.”

“Very good, then in that case, the prosecution may call their witness.”

“The prosecution calls Bridget Reynolds to the stand.”

There was a hum of startled conversation. I froze. How did they think I could still testify? But when I looked at Jeremy, he just shook his head and nudged my elbow, lifting his chin towards the aisle.

I had no choice but to get up and walk back to the stand. I was sworn in again, then sat down. But my heel wouldn’t stop jumping.

To my surprise, it was the judge who spoke to me first.

“Mrs. Priestley, we need to be certain that you understand: Any testimony given, or events prior to the marriage are not covered by spousal privilege.”

My whole body went cold.

The judge raised her brows and pinned me with what could only be described as a look. “Were you married to Mister Priestley on the date of his arrest?”

“N-no,” I rasped.

“Then legally in the State of Oregon, you must answer under oath.” She looked past me then to address the jury. “Let me be clear: Even if a couple are married, if the questions are posed about events or a time before they were married, or if it can be established by Counsel that the question touches on events during the marriage in which one spouse harmed another, the testimony is also not covered by Spousal Privilege. Let the record show that Counsel have moved, and I have upheld, that Mrs. Priestley’s testimony is not covered by Spousal privilege under these circumstances, and I will rule on any objection in accordance with those laws. You may proceed, Counsel.”

I couldn’t help it, I looked right at Sam. My stomach dropped to my toes. His forehead was lined with worry, and his eyes sad, but then… then he just nodded. Slowly.

He nodded for me to tell the truth.

“Your Honor—” I gasped.

“The witness will remain silent until a question is asked by Counsel,” she said without even looking at me.

Shit. Shit !

And then fucking Derek walked right up to stand in front of me, eyes blazing. He was furious.

“Bridget—is it alright if I call you Bridget?” he said coolly.

I swallowed and nodded. My head shrieked.

“You’ll need to speak for the record.”

I cleared my throat. “Y-yes.”

“Very good. Bridget, in the months before your husband’s arrest, did you or did you not seek out someone to kill you?”

“I… I…” I looked at Sam, but he’d slumped forward in his seat, his head in his hands.

I wanted to cry.

“Mrs. Priestley,” Derek snapped. “Is it true that you were active on a forum on the dark web titled Weirdos Whackos and Freaks Playground where you used the screenname Deadgirlwalking, and that you posted on more than one occasion telling the other members of this forum that you, quote, wanted to run for your life… and lose?”

“I… I mean, yes. But I was really drunk and upset and—”

“Was it understood by you, and those responding to the post, that your intention was to identify someone who would willingly kill you?”

Stunned. Speechless. Head screaming. I couldn’t do this! I couldn’t make them find Sam guilty! But it was all my fault that we were here in the first place.

Oh god, I was going to be sick.

“Y-yes,” I stammered.

“On the night of your husband’s arrest, did you or did you not tell the accused where to find you, with the understanding between you that he was coming to kill you?”

I felt faint. “He threw away the knife,” I breathed.

“I need you to speak up, Mrs. Priestley.”

I swallowed and blinked. The world wanted to spin. I looked for Sam. Locked in, because he was the ground and I needed the sky overhead and… and he stared right back at me, worry and fear in his eyes… for me.

What the hell was I doing? I was the one who put him here. I was the one who’d fucked this all up. And now he was facing real charges because of me.

I couldn’t fall apart. I couldn’t look guilty. These people needed to see the truth .

God, if you’re real, then you better fucking show up because our whole world is about to crumble and it’s my fault. Not his. I took a deep breath as Derek frowned. “Mrs. Priestley, I—”

I made my voice strong when I interrupted him. “I said, he threw away the knife. He didn't want me dead. It was a role-play.”

Derek’s eyes went flat. “Be very careful, you are under oath. This is a yes or no question.” Then he glanced at the jury before leaning closer to me and dropping his voice. “Did you enter those woods that night, knowing Mister Priestley was pursuing you with the purpose of killing you?”

In my head I saw myself answer that question five different ways, and every time, those cell bars clanged shut over Sam, separating us forever. And I was so fucking angry at myself for putting us here. Because it was me who’d done this, not him.

But as that thought sank into my bones, the sunlight broke through clouds in my mind.

It was me who’d done this… not him.

I inhaled deeply and smiled—and Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, I did,” I said calmly. “But I was the one who coerced him. He’d already made it clear that he was done with me, and I was forcing his hand. I told him he had to come that night otherwise I was going to get in trouble. He came to save me, not to kill me. He never said he would kill me. I just wanted that to happen.”

“Bridget, you are under oath—”

“Check all your records, Derek. Check all your transcripts, and all your statements. He fooled me. He intervened when he saw my post and told me he would make me feel alive. Whenever we talked about the endgame, it was me. He never once actually stated that he would kill me. Not. Once. I… I entrapped him.”

Back in the seating area, Jeremy cursed.

Derek was working hard to keep his professional foot forward. His lips went tight like a father who wanted to shout, but was in public. “Bridget, are you aware of the laws governing entrapment, how and when it applies?”

I nodded. “When an agent of the law proposes a crime—I am one. I was an informant. We were working together—”

“Your Honor, permission to treat the witness as hostile?” Derek broke in .

“Permission granted.”

I frowned. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but Derek didn’t miss a beat.

“Bridget, I will remind you and the Court one more time that you are under oath, and anything you say that is untrue could lead to charges against you, as well as prison time of your own. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic, then allow me to explain a crucial point of law: It is only entrapment if the accused was not predisposed to the crime when it was proposed. If you were to suggest this crime to an innocent man who’d never shown propensity for violence—but was tempted to it by you, then, yes, you may have been guilty of entrapment. But Samuel Priestley has a proven record of violence, including specifically violence against women.”

Oh shit. “But, he wasn’t—I mean—”

“Additionally there are other details which preclude entrapment, for example: Who created the rules of your… engagement?”

I gaped at him, memories of that morning outside the gym. The scent of him in my car. The thrill.

…kneeling on the floor behind the driver’s seat, with his hand clapped over my mouth and pulling my head back into the headrest so I couldn’t move, he whispered, a gravel barely above the volume of my pulse.

“We’re going to have a few rules, Bridget. Blink once to tell me you understand what I’m saying.”

I blinked hard, squeezing my eyes shut for a second then opening them again to stare through the windshield at the blank, cinderblock wall of the gym, cursing myself as an idiot for parking back here. But as he continued to speak, I couldn’t help smiling behind his hand. My initial panic was quickly being replaced by a rush that would leave me shaking for hours—

“Bridget, you are required to answer under oath. Who made the rules”?

“He did,” I admitted. “I… I didn’t want any rules.”

Derek nodded once, satisfied. “So, Mister Priestley actively and intentionally engaged in planning and committing crimes against you without your input ? ”

“Objection! Asks the witness to give a legal determination for which she is not qualified!”

Derek raised a hand before the judge responded. “Let me rephrase…” He looked down for a moment, rebuttoning his suit jacket, his lips pursing. Then, when he raised his eyes it was to lock on me. “Did Mr. Priestley ever show up to hunt you without your prior knowledge?”

Sigh. “Yes.”

“Was he ever violent, or did he reference the plan to kill you without your instigation of the conversation?”

God, this was torture. “Yes. But we had agreed ahead of those conversations—it was consensual. He thought I wanted—”

“Did Mr. Priestley ever leave bruises, cuts, or other injuries on your person?”

“Yes. But I had given him permission. I was the one who proposed—”

Derek’s nostrils flared. “Just a yes or no will suffice: Did he ever engage in preparation for these interactions between you without your knowledge? Perhaps studying routes, or locations, or preparing resources that he would need in his pursuit?”

“Well… yes.”

“Did he, in fact, warn you not to tell him where to find you, or for you to try and engage him, instead insisting that he had control of where and when you met?”

I frowned. “How did you know—”

“Answer the question, Bridget.”

I huffed. “ Yes, but—”

“And when he found you in those moments, did he ever threaten your life?”

I blinked, relief washing through me. I looked at Sam who was staring at me with the intensity of a laser. “No,” I said quietly. Then more loudly. “No. He didn’t.”

“Do I need to remind you again that you are under oath?”

“No, you don’t, Derek. I’m telling the truth: Sam never threatened my life. In fact, he threatened to disappear from my life if I didn't follow his rules. And the times I was hurt, he took care of me. He wasn’t killing me. He was healing me. He even insisted that if I was ever hurt and we were separated, that I had to use his instructions on how to treat my wounds, and I had to send him pictures or video of how I’d done it so he could check.”

“This is what a sexual Dom terms “Aftercare” and is something that is generally expected in a Dominant/submissive relationship, regardless of the long-term outcome, is that correct?”

“Yes, but I’m not a sub—"

“Was there anything different about your interactions on the night of your husband’s arrest? Anything he did that he had not done before?”

That stopped me and I examined the question warily. “I didn’t do anything differently. I was upset that night—”

“Is it true one of your husband’s rules was that there would be no weapons used by either of you during your previously agreed hunts?”

Oh shit. This again.

I slumped. “Yes.”

“Is it true that you had told your husband in prior meetings that you had been threatened with guns, and were once harmed by a man with a knife, and that you didn’t like those weapons?”

I blinked. “I mean… I told that to Sam.”

“So, he knew?”

“I suppose.”

“Yes or no, Mrs. Priestley. Please answer my future questions with a yes, or a no. Your honor the State enters into evidence exhibit 1C, the forensic photograph taken on the night of Mister Priestley’s arrest. Do you recognize this photograph, Bridget?”

He approached the bench and placed a blown-up photograph on the wide sill of the witness stand box in front of me.

I took one look and my stomach sank.

Pale skin. Red and purple patterning. Burst blood vessels. Bruising. And a very thin, straight line of red.

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“I’m sure you do, because that is your neck, isn’t it?”

Oh god, this looked terrible. “Yes.”

“So, I will ask you again: Is it true that on the night of his arrest, Samuel Priestley brought a knife with him—two knives in fact—and used one of those against you. That he left a cut on your neck as recorded in this photograph, and he used the threat of that weapon to stop you from struggling when you were fighting him off?”

A minor cut. It didn’t even bleed properly. I’d had worse in a session at Vigorí , the sex club I’d once belonged to. But I couldn’t deny the cut was there.

I closed my eyes, washed in self-loathing. “Yes. It’s true.”

“Thank you. No further questions—”

“But he threw it away before things went any further.”

“Mrs. Priestley, you cannot simply speak in Court!”

“He threw the knife away and he told me he never intended to kill me, that he always meant to convince me not to die—”

Murmuring in the watching crowd was quickly cut off by the judge’s gavel banging.

“Bridget, you cannot simply speak!” Derek snapped. “Your Honor, I’m very sorry.”

“Everyone sit down and be quiet!” the judge barked. Then, when the courtroom was silent, she turned to glare at me. “Mrs. Priestley, be quiet when you have not been asked a question, or you will be in contempt of Court.” Then she looked past me to the jury box. “The jury is instructed to disregard the statements made by Mrs. Priestley after the prosecutor indicated he had no further questions. Those statements will be stricken from the record.” She looked furious when she turned back to me. “This is your only warning, Mrs. Priestley. If you attempt to sway the opinions of this jury by offering testimony that is not requested, you will be in contempt and I will put you in jail. Do you understand?”

I swallowed and nodded, then hurriedly added, “Yes.”

The judge looked at Derek, who raised his hands, palms forward.

“No further questions, your honor.”

While Derek gathered his things from the podium at the center, Sam’s lawyer stood up from his chair, buttoning his jacket, and speaking to me the moment Derek walked away.

“Mrs. Priestley, do you believe your husband intended to kill you that night?”

I sighed with relief. “No—”

“Objection, your honor—calls for speculation. ”

But Sam’s lawyer was unruffled. “Your Honor, it goes to intent, which informs motive–or the lack thereof. Mrs. Priestley has already testified that there was a consensual arrangement between them prior to these events.”

“I’ll allow it.”

He turned back to me, clearly pleased. “Mrs. Priestley, do you believe your husband intended to kill you that night?”

“No.”

“Did you believe so at the time?”

That made me wary. “Yes. But I was wrong.”

“Why are you confident that you were wrong?”

“Because he was wearing a mask and I didn’t know it was Sam. If I’d known, I would never have believed that’s what he was there for. I thought I was getting a violent man named Cain arrested—someone who wanted to kill. When he used the knife on me, it was because I was frantic and not listening. As soon as I stopped fighting and focused on him, Sam showed me that he was Sam, and threw the knife away.”

“You say you would have known—if you’d known it was Sam behind the mask—that he didn’t want to kill you?”

I nodded frantically. “Sam had always tried to persuade me not to see the other men anymore. He’d given me every argument for getting out of this arrangement, even asked me not to see or interact with anyone else before talking to him first. Sam wanted an exclusive relationship with me. When they were the same person I was floored. I thought he’d been lying to me the whole time. But Sam told me that he had changed his life and now used his skills and experience to find women like me and convince them not to die. He had been trying all along to make me see that my life was worth living. It was why part of his rules were to disappear if the woman wanted to live, or used the safeword. He only came when I told him to that night to reveal himself and ask me to change my mind.”

“And did you change your mind? Did you agree not to proceed with the request for your own death?”

“Special Agent Haines and his team appeared at that time, but if I had known then what I know now, I would never have called Jeremy in. I never intended for Sam to be a target for them. I always knew he was different than the men I’d informed against. I didn’t want him in jail. ”

“No further questions, your Honor.”

Fucking Derek rose to his feet again. “Your Honor, permission to redirect?”

“Granted.”

He strode out from behind the table to stand halfway between me and the jury. “If you didn’t want Mr. Priestley in jail, why did you call in Special Agent Haines?”

“Because… because I only wanted to stay alive if Cain was also alive. And I thought… I was afraid he’d disappear if I gave him the safe word and I’d never see him again. So, I thought I’d get him caught instead.”

“You had him arrested so you could see him in prison?”

“Yes. I mean, no… Not just for that reason… I wanted to see if… if there was some way we could… get past it. Together.”

Derek blinked. We’d never talked about this part of the events of that night. “Mrs. Priestley… Are you saying you used the resources, cover, protection and assistance of our nation… so you could date a man while he was incarcerated?”

Oh god. I kind of did. But… “That’s not… I wasn’t thinking clearly. I panicked. I just—”

“Did you, or did you not believe that a man called Cain was coming for you to murder you that night?”

“I… I did.”

“And—please answer this yes or no, Mrs. Priestley. Did you, or did you not call Special Agent Jeremy Haines to come and save you from him?”

Tears pinched my eyes and blurred my vision. “I did. But—”

“That is all, Mrs. Priestley. No further questions. However, your Honor, the revelation of this relationship changes our strategy. I had thought we might be able to move forward, but it’s clear our witness had left a great deal out of her testimony thus far. Your Honor, I move for a continuance to allow sufficient time to file and address necessary motions pertinent to this case.”

The judge sighed, but she nodded. “Unfortunately, that seems wise. The motion for continuance is granted. Please file all motions before Monday. We will reconvene to hear those motions on Tuesday. This case will be rescheduled to Thursday. But do not force me to delay further, either of you.”

When both the lawyers nodded, she slammed her gavel down one more time, the sound cracked through the room and startled me. “Mrs. Priestley, you may return to your seat.”

Then she turned to the jury. “We will endeavor to make certain all the legal definitions of the terms used today are explained. But if you have further questions when you deliberate, you can return to the Court and I will answer them. Mrs. Priestley can and will be required to testify against the accused. Her actions were not entrapment in a legal sense because she has already established that the accused acted alone and without her direction.

“That is our session for today. This case will reconvene one week from today. Court is adjourned.”

That gunshot of a gavel landed one more time, then the room rumbled and rushed with movement and whispers, people leaning into their neighbors and getting up from their seats.

Everyone got to their feet, but I didn’t want to move. For those moments I could just sit there and watch Sam. His lawyers leaned over him, speaking as they all gathered up papers and filled briefcases. But then they bracketed him and all three of them walked to the center aisle and through the gallery towards the doors.

Sam sought me the moment they were turned around, his eyes locked on mine until he was too far past to see me without craning his neck.

I love you, Sam. I love you. I love you.

When he disappeared through the door I sighed and rose to my feet—to find Jeremy standing in the aisle… livid.