Chapter 1
The day of my release from a prison of my own bad decisions finally had arrived. I sat in the courtroom beside my Godfather, Marcus Redding, as we listened to the closing remarks of Judge Merryweather. He was presently shuffling his papers and muttering to himself, so I had a few moments to let my eyes and my mind wander around the room.
A similar courtroom was probably in every city in America. This was the first time I had found myself inside a court of law aside from my late night television excursion into the fictional representations of Law and Order. The reality of the scene was much the same as the imaginary depiction.
The room was paneled in a light wood tone that skirted the walls. A light cream color was painted above the wood and reached to the ceiling. At the front of the room sat the Judge dressed in his stately robes behind what could only be termed a pulpit. The witness stand was to his immediate right. Directly in front of the justice stood twin legal tables. Marcus, my attorney, and I sat on the right side. On the Judge’s left sat my newly signed ex-husband, Flynn Murphy with his attorney. Unlike a typical divorce proceeding, the benches behind us were empty. Due to the high profile of the families involved in the case and the dirty laundry that we had aired, Flynn’s attorney had asked for closed chambers. The Judge had agreed.
Having taken in the little decoration in the room and having no desire to look upon Flynn, I cast my gaze on Judge Merryweather. He was a study in contradictions. His name suggested good humor. However, he looked like a cross between a young bulldog and an older Clint Eastwood, so in short, intimidating in the extreme.
Judge Merryweather cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him. “Lady and Gentlemen, I would like to say that I am greatly displeased with the conduct of the lot of you. I have never sat upon a case in which I found myself so disgusted by all parties involved.”
He paused and wagged his fingers at us collectively. “While I understand the young lady’s desire to protect her interest and her child, I hate to see one spouse turn on another even in the name of self defense.”
My cheeks reddened at his censure, but I understood his objections because I had them as well. I shrugged my shoulders and let my guilt fall off with his words, a woman had to do what a woman had to do.
I was not the only one to receive a set down. Flynn was next on the list. “And Mr. Murphy, as someone who knew you as a boy, I am ashamed of the man you have become. Your parents have their faults, but they did not raise you to treat a woman, your wife, the way you have treated her. Your behavior toward her and your child is reprehensible.”
I sneaked a look at Flynn. My eyes took in his golden boy facade, but now I was able to look at him objectively instead of under a cloud of hormone induced lust. Flynn was a tall man with a lean athletic build. His shaggy blond hair, always just a tiny bit too long, gave him an unstudied air of recklessness. And his eyes, a warm shade of hazel, seemed so guileless and friendly. On the surface, he was every woman’s dream lover, but underneath, Flynn was a predator.
I breathed deep and then exhaled slowly. Perhaps, he had never been the man I believed him to be. Flynn and I both had been young, and perhaps I saw what I wanted to see instead of what simply was. The loss of my innocent illusion and the last ten years of my life was all of the penalty that I was willing to pay for my naivety and mistakes.
I turned my attention back to Judge Merryweather. “Marcus, I advise that you and the young lady take your exists from my courtroom first. I will hold the other gentlemen for ten minutes. That should give you time to clear out. I don’t want to see any of you back in my courtroom!”
Marcus stood and I followed. I kept my eyes straight ahead and averted my vision so that I did not have to lay eyes on Flynn. My heart broke a little more inside. A sad smile hovered on my lips as I slipped on my black ray bans to hide the dregs of my pain.
Marcus sensed my unhappiness and took my elbow in a firm yet gentle grasp, “Just a little farther now, darling. We are almost out of the door, and then you can break just a little, all right?”
My lips tightened. I managed a slight inclination of my head to show him I understood. In my mind, I counted out our paces. One, two, three - the door was almost in reach. Four, Five, Six - out the door we go. Seven, eight, nine - it was closed once more. In the deserted corridor outside the courtroom, I leaned heavily against the wall.
Marcus was right there beside me, just like always. He was a permanent fixture in my life. Somehow, he and my father, who was a few years his senior, had ended up in the same Frat house in college. When I looked at the two now, it was hard to picture them as two young, reckless bucks out drinking beer and toilet papering the Dean’s house, but at one time they had done just that.
All I had ever experienced from the two most important men in my life was trust, love, and unflagging support. Who could really ask for more? I certainly could not, especially not when I now understood how little some men gave and how very much they took in return. My bitterness rose in my throat, and I choked it down like the tart pill it was.
Marcus took my arm again and steered me toward the elevators. The small elevator car seemed cramped after the emptiness of the courtroom and the hall. Marcus and I took the only available spaces left inside the car, and we rode with our counterparts down two more floors to the lobby. There we spilled out and went in mass through the metal detectors and out into the street.
“Marcus, do you want….” I turned and there was no Marcus. I scanned the area behind me and looked back into the lobby. I didn’t see him anywhere. That was odd. Standing on the street corner was not a wise activity in a city filled with tourists and the criminals who prayed on them. I had two choices. One, I could go back into the lobby and search for Marcus there. Option number two was to cross the street and wait for him in the small park next door.
My aching feet made the choice for me. I had worn heels to court this morning, and I was not accustomed to such shoes. The tree lined park with its shaded benches called out its siren song to me. I pushed the button for the crosswalk and waited for the go ahead. As is the case in most cities, I did not have to wait long. Despite the signal’s declaration that it was safe to walk, I still looked both ways just to verify the fact for myself. In a town filled with antsy locals and tourists who are so mesmerized by the scenery that they forget to look where they are going, it was always good to double check.
It was all clear. I stepped out and had only walked a few feet when I heard tires peeling on the pavement. I turned toward the sound and saw a large black sedan bearing down on me at the speed of lightning. My brain screamed for me to run, to move, but my body could not react that fast. I watched the car hurtle closer. In seconds it would hit me; a scream tore out of my lips. There was no way I could escape; I was going to die or at the very least be grievously injured. My eyes squeezed shut to block out the horror that was barreling down on me.
I flew through the air and landed on the hard unforgiving pavement. This didn’t feel like death. I bravely opened my eyes and peeked out around me. I was sprawled on the curb bruised and bleeding from a few cuts but otherwise unharmed.
I glanced around looking for the angel who rescued me. All I found was the devil I knew, Flynn. He stood beside me looking rumpled and breathing hard. When he caught me staring at him, he sneered, “Guess someone wants you dead, Miranda; better watch your step.”
My mouth fell open. Before I could regain my wits and ask him just what the hell he meant by that, he turned and strolled away like nothing in the world had taken place. I only looked away when I heard Marcus yelling at me from nearby.
“Miranda! Miranda, are you hurt?”
Before I could respond, he jerked me up from my undignified position on the ground and began to feel for broken bones like I was still a wayward child. I pushed his hands away, “I’m fine, Marcus.”
“Hmm, you don’t look fine! You look like you just got r
un over by a car!”
My lips twitched, “Well, that’s because I almost did, but given that fact, I’m fine, really!”
Marcus looked like he wanted to argue, “Okay. Let’s get you to my office, and get you cleaned up a bit. Then I’ll call you a ride. You certainly don’t need to drive after that shake-up.”
I started to argue but then realized that he was right. I was shaking like a leaf. I needed to calm down. “You’re right, let’s go. I don’t want to stand here and be gawked at any longer.”