Page 288 of Satan's Spawn

Cillian grows erratic, pacing back and forth like a wild animal. “Things are not looking good in there, Rebecca. I had to get out. Every person in that room sees a stone cold killer.” He stops for a second to let out a frustrated groan, then begins marching again. “All they see is the history, the tattoos, the scowl on his face. They don’t see the potential he has to be a good person. They don’t see what I see.” He slaps a palm against the pillar. “The troubled little kid who carved his skin with words so tragic they left my heart bleeding with him. The tormented adult who feels so alone in the world he convinces himself he’s an extension of the fucking devil!” His hands are at his hair, pulling. “It was me who was there cleaning the first cut to his wrist, through all of his therapy appointments, and comforting him through the nightmares that haunted him. I want to see him finally heal, find happiness, and when he brought you home I truly believed that was happening.”

There’re tears pouring down his face now, and I hate that I only have five more minutes to comfort him, but what he says next makes it a smidge easier.

“How am I supposed to protect the only son I can ever have if he’s behind bars for the rest of his life?”

Jesus. It would be less painful for him to rip my heart out and leave me to bleed onto the pavement.

“Cillian, look at me.” When he doesn’t I repeat myself, standing in front of him. “Look. At. Me.”

When his distraught eyes find mine I tell him, “I won’t let you lose him. I promise.”

This only works enough for him to stop pacing and hitting things.

Cillian presses outstretched arms against the pillar and stares down at the ground. “I don’t know if I can go back in there.”

“You have to.” I press my palm to his back. “Crayton needs to know we haven’t given up on him.”

“It’s Crayton’s character versus Felix’s ‘All-American’ one,” he says through a sarcastic huff.

“Felix was not as innocent as they make him seem, trust me.”

“You think I don’t know that?” He beams down at me. “The little shit was my ex’s new stepson, and she’s had it out for Crayton way before our divorce. Felix just took over after it.”

“There you go,” I cheer him on. “There’s the spirit. He was a dick.”

Cillian switches to leaning his back against the white stone, and I take a couple of steps to stand in front of him. “Only to us, Rebecca.” He shuts his eyes.

“Only for now,” I reassure him by slapping both hands around his arms. “Because I can fucking prove it.”

* * *

“So, tell me Miss Dawson.”Micah holds a finger up, striding back and forth in front of the witness stand in that typical lawyer way. “How is your relationship with the defendant?”

“It was rocky at first, but we are crazy about each other now.”

“Explain ‘rocky,’” he tilts his head as if thinking, “because many people at your school can attest to him being mean to you. Some may even use the word ‘bully’ to describe my client’s behavior.”

I keep my temperament cool, just like Micah suggested. Not wanting to come off overly emotional, but also not cold.

“Yes, that’s true, Crayton and I were enemies at first. But our resentment toward each other came from a place of unresolved pain, not anger.”

Micah stops to stand in front of me. “You two are in a happy relationship now, are you not??”

“Objection!” the D.A. shoots out. “Leading the witness.”

Micah rolls his eyes, then clears his throat. “Would you still consider my client your bully?”

There’s an intense shake of my head, and Micah’s eyes widen for me to stop. So I do it with a slow breath. “Not at all. In fact, Crayton has made it his mission to make sure he protects me.”

“Protects you?” Micah pretends to be shocked. “From what can your former bully possibly protect you from?”

I watch as Crayton shifts uncomfortably, already hating the direction the testimony is going.

“From most of the kids at school. Especially Felix and Alexis.”

“Please clarify for the jury who you are referring to.”

“Felix Crimson and Alexis Ivanov.”