Page 57 of Savage in the Streets
His jaw clenches, clearly tense. How am I to trust him when I don’t even know why he came into my life?
Just as he’s about to speak, the door opens, and uniformed men enter the room.
“Time to get you in front of the judge.”
* * *
Bailey
Throughout the entire discovery hearing, I do exactly what’s told of me, fearing any rebellion will reflect poorly against my character.
I hate tradition and rituals. Fancy talk. I wish they’d just get to the point and put me out of my misery. What could possibly be so bad that they hauled me away from Ashton’s place?
Ashton is given a mountain of paperwork, which includes a log of the evidence, the transcript from all of the interrogations and depositions, bank account information, phone records, the search of my old apartment and of my place above Savage Beauty.
As the prosecutor, Mr. Alvarez, goes over each item, Ashton thumbs through it, nodding his head.
“I’d like to make it clear that we shouldn’t have had to wait three weeks for Ms. Bailey Savage’s real address,” Mr. Alvarez says.
“Your Honor, my client was confused, and had no idea there was an old address on file. And quite frankly, I find it shocking that her old landlord didn’t bother to inform the police of their blunder.”
Alvarez continues with, “The Savage name is enough to strike fear into the hearts of criminals and thugs alike. Ms. Savage took advantage of—”
“Let’s just get on with the discovery,” the judge interrupts, clearly annoyed.
Ashton turns a few pages, scanning the evidence log. His eyes narrow. “Your Honor, I’d like to call for a break.”
“We are not here to debate the evidence, Mr. Ward,” the judge says. “You can do that with your client on your own time.”
“I know, but—”
“Mr. Alvarez, would you continue,” the judge commands.
The prosecutor starts going over the contents of my apartment, which surprisingly include several already used gift cards. What’s most notable about this is that their identification numbers match those purchased with the stolen money from the account taken out in my name.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, a USB drive was found hidden in the back of my toilet’s water reservoir that has information regarding the bank account, the targets of the fraud, and other shady dealings.
“Those aren’t mine,” I blurt out, but the judge quickly hushes me, and the prosecutor continues.
Ashton casts me a tense look. I want to tell him I’m innocent, but then I remember that he searched my apartment in advance, before anyone got to it.
Ashton Ward, my lawyer, the man I thought was the love of my life, is framing me for fraud.
I’m numb. Hurt. Dead inside.
How could I have been so stupid?
Ashton asks about bail, but before the judge can answer, Mr. Alvarez says he’d like to break to discuss a possible plea deal.
Ashton’s eyes are troubled, but I know it’s fake. Things are going exactly as he intends them to.
He wants me so desperate that I’ll agree to anything.
With the new evidence, he expects me to be scared. He’ll encourage me to marry Bruce, saying that if I do, evidence will be produced, proving my innocence. I’ll be an owned woman. Free, yet caged.
But this will only happen if I let it, and I don’t much feel like playing games.
“We will not be accepting any plea deals at this time,” Ashton finally says.
