Page 118 of Notorious

“Would you tell me if the answer was yes?”

Johnny pauses, then says, “Yeah. I would.”

“Thank you. I’m proud of you. And I’m so proud of you for going through with this trial. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

The next day, Friday, it’s his turn to testify, and whenever his lawyers aren’t asking him questions, his eyes are on me. It takes a long time for him to get through the story, with a lot of objections from the other side. But eventually it’s done.

When the defense cross-examines him, Johnny’s forced to describe his other sexual experience where he was on the bottom—it’s been fifteen years, he says. Pinkerton Studios’ trial lawyers treat him like he’s lying about everything, and every question is delivered with attitude. I guess Johnny’s attorneys got the judge to throw out some of Pinkerton’s defenses and an entire bullshit lawsuit they brought against Johnny, but even with the defense attorneys reined in, it’s still painful to watch.

I sit in the audience and watch, trying to send him strength through the power of my mind. I wish I could leave, because hearing him describe how he felt when he was helpless breaks my heart. But I would never abandon him like that.

Next they play the tape.

“I know it’s rough,” Danny said to us when we discussed this before the trial. “But it’s direct evidence of what was done to Johnny. I think it’s what will persuade the jury. If you really don’t want us to show it, we won’t, but I think you’ll have a better chance of winning the case with it. Without it, you’re more likely to lose, I’m sorry to say. The choice is yours.”

Johnny said yes.

The court closed the courtroom to the public, given the sensitive nature of the video, but as the plaintiff’s husband, I was allowed to stay.

Seeing the recording is so much worse than hearing Johnny talk about it. He didn’t repeat all the horrible things the men said while they violated him. He didn’t say how much blood was running down his legs. He didn’t talk about the extent of his humiliation.

I’m so frozen with horror that I only realize I’m crying when tears drip down my neck and wet the collar of my dress shirt.

If Johnny was feeling suicidal last night, I can’t imagine how desperate he is now.

I’m not letting him out of my sight.

CHAPTER 40

Johnny

As soon as the video ends, I bolt from the court and throw up in the nearest bathroom.

Kurt follows behind me and pats my back as I retch. He brings me wet paper towels to wipe my face. He finds a bottle of water to rinse my mouth and holds me as I shake, not letting me go.

But my brain is going haywire.

I’m no good for him. I’ve gotta save him from me. He shouldn’t be stuck with some worthless piece of meat—someone who couldn’t defend himself. Someone weak. Someone who could be violated like that. Someone so fucking stupid.

Distantly, something tells me I’m thinking shit I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself. My thoughts are spiraling down the drain, and they just keep coming and coming, and I want to hit my head against the wall to get them to stop.

Loser.

Victim.

Weak.

Couldn’t save my mama. Had to have other people do it for me.

The violins have been quieter for months, but they’re screeching now.

He lost the election because of you.

You have no money.

You owe him everything.

And it’s only going to get worse. Gary Pinkerton is testifying on Tuesday, when the trial starts up again. I don’t know that I’m going to be able to handle that lowlife spewing his lies about me.

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