Page 59 of Marlin's Faith

Faith…

The courtroom was stark, and I couldn’t be near Hope. They seated us apart from each other, but when I saw them all in the gallery I didn’t mind so much. One side of the seating area was devoid of anyone, but behind the short wall that the defense table was in front of? Well, the first few rows of professional looking people in their suits and jackets, briefcases and file folders overflowing and in some cases spilling out onto the floor immediately gave way to densely packed benches full of bikers. The first two rows were familiar faces, from Florida, Marlin’s among them. His blue eyes searching each face in turn until his gaze landed onme.At that point, his stare became locked, though his expression was neutral and carefully guarded.

Past the men of The Kraken were an even rougher looking lot, though the orange bandanas and yellow and white accent colors that I had grown so used to seeing, instead gave way to purple and gold. They wore their jackets and tee shirts but their leather vests, or cuts, remained conspicuously absent. I bit my lower lip and scanned the room. The bailiffs seemed tense and it dawned on me, that in here, they may not have been allowed to wear their cuts. It was clear that the police didn’t like the club, but I wasn’t sure why. They hadn’t done anything wrong, but then again I suppose it was like any other thing. The cops in the jail where Hope and I spent the night saw me as ‘whore’ and not even human. My sister, I guess they lumped in with the MC, which they were convinced was a gang… even though they didn’t act like one, at least not like any of the ones I’d grown up around in California.

I didn’t know the difference, and I didn’t care about it either… I just wanted to go home and I was a little surprised that in such a short amount of time, that I felt like Ft. Royalwashome.

It’d only been a few months… two months?I’d lost track.

“All rise…”

I stood because everyone else stood, even though we were set apart in a little box to the side, much like a jury except the actual jury box sat vacant across the room and held more seats.

I didn’t listen to the goings on, or the others as they each, one by one, stood and were led by a jailer to their lawyer’s side. Well, I didn’t pay attention to the first woman; the second was my sister as they were going in alphabetical order by last name. I paid attention toher.

“Still, it was an assault on a police officer; I’m not inclined to treat that lightly.” The judge said, and I felt hollow inside. Hope stood stoic and didn’t look surprised in the slightest.

“Your Honor,” her lawyer began and laid out a very convincing argument, even going as far as to show the judge a video of our arrest on a cell phone, which the judge didn’t look at all happy about when she viewed it.

“As much as I would like to grant Ms. Andrews bail, the best I can,and will, do is grant her an expeditious trial date. Given what you have there, I am certain either a reasonable plea agreement can be reached or any good judge worth their salt would acquit. I’m sorry, Ms. Andrews, but my hands are tied by law in this state.” The judge did indeed look sympathetically at my sister as she picked up her gavel.

“Remand,” she said shortly and tapped the gavel’s rest and she seemed weary a bit.

I stared at Hope wide eyed as she was led from the courtroom, right past the box I was sitting in. She smiled at me, dazzling and said as she passed in a harsh whisper, “It’s okay, Bubbles. The guys will take care of you. A few weeks and this’ll all be over.”

Wait, a fewweeks?Had she just said a few,weeks!?

I shifted in my seat and kept quiet even though I desperately wanted to cry out, wanted to jump up and run to my sister and hug her and cry and tell her how sorry I was and that this was all my fault and that I’d failed her again, except I knew deep down in my heart of hearts I hadn’t. I had been so good by the side of that police car. I had done everything he’d told me to do and I had tried so very hard not to scream and not to cry. I had cried, but I’d held it in for the most part.

Hope had taken it upon herself, knowing full well the consequences, to hit that evil bastard, landing herself in this situation. I watched the jailer lead my sister out of sight and stared blindly after her for long moments afterward. I didn’t hear anything being said, barely registered the gavel ringing sharply. When I turned, it was to see the men in purple and gold and some of The Kraken too, calling out, berating the judge and the lawyer for Hope not getting bail. Cutter stared after where Hope had gone too, a stony expression on his face and a glint of fury tempered with determination in his warm brown eyes.

Marlin stared at me still, and I met his gaze. A spark, something real even as it was intangible passed between us and my rising panic at wondering what would happen to my sister calmed. Marlin was calm, Cutter was calm, both of them stoic and steady which meant they had a plan and if they had a plan the best thing I could do was hold on. The best thing I could do was stay calm, hold on, and do nothing to jeopardize whatever they had in place. I trusted Marlin. I trusted him and my sister Hope implicitly, so that meant I needed to stay calm, I needed to not fall apart, and so I simply concentrated on slowing my breathing using exercises Dr. Sheindland had taught me and waited.

The roaring in my ears took much longer to subside than the men in the gallery. All it took was one word from Cutter for The Kraken to fall silent, as for the rest of the men, a heavy bald man, probably a few years younger than Cutter, said to knock it off and just like that, they did.

The judge was not amused, you could tell by her expression, and I hoped that when it was my turn, it wouldn’t hurt me. I mean, she’d know I was with them. Not only did I still wear my riding leather, she’d watched Hope hit the deputy that’d been groping me, she’d seen me in the video.

“Breathe,”Marlin mouthed at me, and I resumed Dr. Sheindland’s exercises.

“Faith Dobbins, one count failure to appear…” I shut out the bailiff’s droning voice as I was hauled to my feet by one arm roughly, by one of the jailers.

The gavel made sharp reports again even as the gallery erupted in more than a little outrage, but the judge didn’t pay them any mind; she addressed the jailer and when I looked up, I could see why… it was one of the other deputies that’d been there when I’d been arrested. Thankfully, not the same one who’d put his hands on me.

“Got my partner put on leave,” he breathed. “You’re going to pay for that,” he threatened though no one else could hear it over the judge, her gavel, and the men in the gallery. He led me over to the same lawyer who was taking up position at the podium built into the defense table and I blinked stupidly at him. He smiled and it was a reassuring one.

“Just a few minutes more, they’ll take you back to the jail and process your release, I promise.”

“Mister Jeffries, go ahead,” the judge ordered.

I could see why his suit was so expensive. He was good,he was really good.Before I knew it, he had launched into explaining that I was still in treatment. He even had documents to back it up, handing them through the bailiff to the judge. Copies of records from both a doctor whose name I didn’t know and Dr. Sheindland. The first doctor had supposedly treated me in Kentucky for heroin withdrawal, as well as a host of other physical problems as a result of being held captive, before I’d joined my sister in Florida to receive treatment from Dr. Sheindland. When the judge had asked what Dr. Sheindland was treating me for, he summed it up rather succinctly by stating I was being treated for ‘a host of mental trauma as a result of a textbook case of human trafficking.’

It made me ill just thinking about what he was saying, but it was the truth. He wasn’t lying, and I couldn’t deny or argue any of it and in this case, the truth, finally and reallydidset me free. The judge ordered me released on remand and the lawyer filed several motions, which essentially notified the court of his intent to handle both the charges of supposedly skipping my bond, and the initial prostitution charge without my need to be present, as the trauma of the last day or so left me in dire need of returning to Florida and treatment with my doctor.

My head was spinning, everything was so confusing, and I am sure I was getting some of the finer details wrong, but I didn’t have time to think about it because they were taking me away. A different jailer; a woman this time, and Marlin was standing and calling out that he would be there and then I was out the door waiting in a long line of seats three people down from Hope. I was trying to relearn how to breathe, my sister leaning forward and back trying to see me, calling out that it was going to be okay, as the anxiety attack swallowed me whole and the floor rushed up to meet me.

I blinked open my eyes to a paramedic, or EMT? There was a difference wasn’t there? I remember Charity telling me there was a difference and to try not to get them confused; it was considered rude…

“There she is! Hi, Baby! How you doing? Better now?” The woman of the pair was patting me on the back of the hand.

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