AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I watched his ass move in tight jeans that pulled just right across his hips and thighs until he was about to turn the corner around the end of the truck. I put my Mustang into drive and revved my engine like an annoying douche just to watch Brent shake his head.
“No stopping on the side of the road for pussy!”
His finger went back into the air, and I could see Casey with her hand over her mouth as she covered her giggles. I honked one more time, then took off for home, fairly certain that he would actually make it the entire way without stopping to fuck our girl. But the chances were never going to be zero.
***
I knew I was about to stir up a nest of hornets. But I also knew that to heal themselves, this might be the one thing the people I loved needed more than anything.
Or it could ruin everything. For all of us.
I looked at both of them, taking in their beautiful features and enjoying their happiness. We were good, but we weren’t great. Casey was laughing about some story Brent was telling that happened on the construction site. She looked so much more relaxed and freer than she had since we first met her. It was a beautiful look, one that I never wanted to leave her gorgeous face. As much as Brent was going to hate what I was about to set into motion, nothing else would have the power to forge an unbreakable bond.
“Hey, Brent? Remember that case last year about the man who murdered his pregnant wife?”
“Fuck. Yeah, I remember.” His reaction was pretty much what I had expected, the smile instantly slipping from his face, replaced by a vicious scowl.
Casey looked back and forth between us. “What case? What happened?”
I twirled my fork in the noodles on my plate and speared a piece of meat with it before answering. “There was a couple that lived near my mom and dad. Someone called in a domestic disturbance one night. It wasn’t the first call. But the woman always refused to press charges. When the call came in this time, she was around six months pregnant. She was dead when they got there. The husband claimed she had fallen down the stairs during an argument.” I put the fork in my mouth and chewed thoughtfully, giving it a moment to settle in for them.
“There were obvious signs of a struggle all over the house. Tables overturned, and things were broken. It looked like she put up a good fight.”
“So, did she actually fall?” Casey’s eyes were misty. Our girl had such a big heart.
“They found a suitcase by the front door. Maybe she went back up the stairs for something. I don’t know. But the evidence indicated that she’d been strangled. It wasn’t a broken neck or anything else that would be indicative of a fall. The worst part was the coroner found bruises on her abdomen and bruises on her arms.”
“He hit or kicked her pregnant belly, and she tried to protect it.” Casey deduced, her voice breaking slightly as her tears breached their dam.
I nodded slowly as I tracked her tears rolling down her cheeks. “Yeah, that’s what the evidence showed.”
“So, how did he get away with it?” She demanded. Her food was sitting forgotten on her plate, and a glance at Brent showed he was angrily pushing his around with a fork. “The defense attorney found evidence today. Well, he found out that evidence that would have helped seal his case closed was mishandled. I don’t have all the details. But the judge had to call a mistrial because of it. He gets to walk away like nothing happened.”
“But that’s unfair! Can’t they just start over?”
“That’s not how it works, sugar. “Double jeopardy doesn’t allow a person to be tried for the same crime twice. But the court system could try him again,” I paused, not wanting to lie to her, but not wanting to give her hope, either.
“It depends on the circumstances. I imagine the case will eventually go back to court. The only problem is the evidence that was considered mishandled in the first case won’t be allowed to be used in the second trial. Considering that evidence was enough to let him go this time, it’s unlikely that the prosecution will be able to gather enough new evidence to replace it.”
“So, that’s it? A man can kill his pregnant wife and get away with it?” She looked over at Brent, who was glaring daggers at his plate. “You have to do something!”
He slowly lifted his head and cocked a brow. “You think I don’t want to put that fucker into the ground?”
She swallowed hard but held his glare. “I think that you are the only one that can get justice for that woman. What if he does the same thing to someone else?”
He nodded. “You’re right. The system is fucked up, and too many innocent people get the shit end of the stick.” he waved his hand in my direction. “Ethan does all he can but often gets tied up in red fucking tape, or the victims are too scared to press charges.”
She straightened her shoulders back and fiercely held his glare with one of her own. “You’re going to kill him.”
The words hung in the air like a heavy weight as I watched them both struggle with their emotions. Finally, Brent slowly nodded. She mirrored his movements.
“Good.” She picked up her fork and stabbed at a noodle. “I want to be there when you do.”
Brent’s fork clattering to the table and falling onto the floor was loud in the silence. I held my breath as I waited for his outburst.
Twenty-Eight
BRENT
