Page 150 of Strays
The fear. The rage. The sadness. The hope.
I have no idea how the jury saw us. Renner made a solid closing, but so did the prosecution. We were shown in both light and shadow, protectors and monsters in turns. It’s nerve-wracking.
There’s a clock on the wall, but I don’t look at it. If I do, I’ll start counting minutes, and I’ll lose my mind.
Jayme said the average time for a verdict on this kind of charge is anywhere between two to eight hours, so I can’t think about time. I won’t.
Alice orders food for all of us, but when it gets delivered, no one touches it.
Jo’s uncles sit a little apart from the lawyers and Alice, quiet the whole time. I catch them exchanging looks, nothing said, just the silent communication every pack knows by instinct. A whole conversation, wordless.
At first, we act like the humans: pacing, fidgeting, shifting in our chairs.
But eventually, without meaning to, we end up falling into the most traditional position a mated pack can assume. I saw my dads sit this way with Lydia dozens of times: the nyra curled on an aegis’s lap, the other two folded over her.
It’s strange when I notice it, because we’ve never done this before.
I sit on the floor because it’s more comfortable than the human chairs. Jo settles in my lap, her head resting against my chest. Jay leans in from behind her, pressing his chest to her back and resting his head on her shoulder. Shane folds in from the other side, curling up with his head in Jo’s lap.
The four of us, a tight unit. Perfectly complete.
I hear Jayme, Renner, and Alice talking in soft voices, sometimes stepping out, sometimes returning. The door opening and closing again. None of it matters. Nothing matters but this. Us.
After we found out a powerful criminal network had used its influence to switch judges, just to make sure we got convicted, I spent a lot of time telling myself I could handle it. That I could take what was coming.
Being separated from Jo. From our home. From this life we’ve built.
But now I know I was lying to myself.
I’ll survive if I have to. But surviving isn’t the same as handling it. I want to go home with her and my brothers. Today.
I want to ask for a transfer and get the hell out of this city. Never look back. Never speak Aranya’s name again. Never let Jo be in danger again. Never see Luc Knolson’s face again. I want to rebuild everything. From scratch.
We stay like this in silence, I don’t know how long, until Alice asks, soft and uncertain: “The jury’s been in there for how long?”
It’s Renner who answers. “Four hours.”
I focus on Jo’s lily scent. Breathe it in, deep. Exhale it out, slow. Repeat.
Then, the room’s door opens. I look at it in time to see a woman stepping in. Courthouse staff with a clipboard in hand.
“The jury has reached a verdict. The court is reconvening. You’re asked to return to the courtroom now.”
Jo’s uncles rise quietly, first to their feet. Then Jayme stands and steps over. He thanks the woman in a low voice; she nods and walks out without another word.
Jay pulls back from us, and Shane lifts his head from Jo’s lap, rubbing his face hard. I shift, guiding Jo off my lap so I can rise. She doesn’t speak, but her fingers close around the pendant resting against her chest.
Alice gives her a quick squeeze on the arm. Jayme straightens his suit. Renner holds the door open for us.
We walk out in silence.
The hallway is buzzing. Reporters are back, despite cameras not being allowed. We ignore it all.
Jayme leads the way through the front; Renner walks slightly behind.
We enter the courtroom. The judge hasn’t returned yet, nor has the jury. We take our seats at the defense table, and Jo moves to the row behind us.
We wait.
