Page 44 of Shattered

“They’re ours. We both adopted them,” Mackenzie answered.

“And are they still?” The defense lawyer pulled a packet of papers from his file on the podium. “Your honor this is exhibit C-1 and C-2 revised adoption papers for Liam Raferty and Riley Raferty.”

The judge took the stack of papers from the attorney. He flipped through them then glanced at Mackenzie. Yes, he’d changed out the forms. When Holly didn’t return home and when they found out she’d been in Boston and had taken over PBH, he’d done what he considered was right and prudent in the matter. No way would he leave that bastardized corporation open to taking his kids because Holly got some stick up her ass.

“I changed them,” he said. “But—”

“What about Holly’s rights to her children, Mr. Raferty?”

Mackenzie swallowed the growl building in his throat. “Her rights?”

“Yes. Liam and Riley are her children. You unilaterally cut her off from her children,” the defense attorney said.

“I did what was best. She decided to run off and take over her brother’s position within PBH. I won’t allow my wolf-shifter children to be exposed to the depravity of the Paranormal Bounty Hunters.”

“Because of the alleged abuse you say your family suffered at the hands of the Paranormal Bounty Hunters?” The man checked his notes. “Who is Marjorie Burke? Sorry, Marjorie Burke-Pendergrass?”

“My son Royce’s mother and the mother of Caden Raferty’s daughter; Sage,” Mackenzie answered. He squeezed his folded hands together, trying to keep the rage at bay. He knew this was coming. Knew these questions would be asked of him.

“Caden Raferty, your brother?”

“Yes,” Mackenzie said. “She raped him when he was fifteen.”

“Motion to strike that last statement, Your Honor,” the defense attorney said. “We have no evidence or conviction record to support Mr. Raferty’s accusation.”

“I’ll allow the statement to be stricken from the record.” The judge turned to Mackenzie. “Sir, I know you have issues with the defense, but I can’t allow you to make blanket statements about someone who can’t properly defend themselves.”

Mackenzie grunted. “I understand.”

“Good,” the judge replied. “You may continue.”

“Mr. Raferty, where is she now?”

“Dead,” he answered. “She died in prison awaiting trial for statutory rape and a sundry of other charges including the bombing of the Sheriff’s Department that killed five deputies, two inmates, and caused the severe injury to Jase Raferty’s mate, Loraine.”

“Convenient she died in prison; wouldn’t you say?”

“Objection, Your Honor, he’s badgering the witness,” Charles said. “Marjorie, her husband Allan, and the Honorable Judge Harold Malcom were murdered by her pack Alpha Raymond Quincy.”

“Quincy?” The judge cocked a brow. “I remember this. Sad day when Malcom died. Objection is sustained.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Charles said.

“Apologies, Your Honor,” the defense attorney said. “Let’s go back a little further shall we?”

Mackenzie tensed. A spark of doom shot through him. “Okay.”

“You were in an accident over thirty years ago, correct?” the attorney asked.

“I wouldn’t call it an accident, per se,” Mackenzie said.

“What would you categorize it as, Mr. Raferty?”

“Attempted murder?”

A gasp rang out in the crowd, and the judge beat his gavel against the hard wood of his bench. “Order in the court. I’ll have order here.”

“And who was the perpetrator of this alleged attempted murder?” the defense attorney asked.

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