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My head drops. Fuck this is it. He’s going to crucify me.
Max goes through the motions and takes a seat.
“You are the bodyguard that so much speculation is surrounding,” Vincenzo announces.
“Yes,” Max replies.
“What was your relationship with Miss Marx?”
“I was her bodyguard and had become her friend,” Max replies.
“For how long?” Vin asks.
“Just over twelve months.” Max stares straight ahead, not once making eye contact with anyone.
“What was your relationship with Mr Stanton like?” he asks.
“Normal.”
Vincenzo frowns. “Normal, what does that mean? Did you fight?”
“No,” he replies and I swallow the lead ball in my stomach. He’s doing this for Natasha, not me.
“But I saw vision of you being abused by Mr Stanton on the night of Natasha’s disappearance on the television.”
“Mr Stanton had been drugged. Doctored images had just been sent to him in regards to the two of us,” he replies.
“But he went over the top, don’t you think?” Vincenzo frowns.
“No, any man would have been the same if he had been sent those images,” Max replies.
“Did you ever see any evidence of Miss Marx being abused by Mr Stanton?”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“No, he loved her. He would never have hurt her.”
I drop my head thankfully as the gallery starts to whisper and the cameras start to click.
“That is all, Mr Carter. I call to the stand Victoria Marx.”
My stomach drops, Natasha’s mother. I close my eyes as the torture continues and slip back into my darkness.
“You have a visitor,” the guard says as he opens the door of my cell.
I frown from my position lying on the bed. Visitors are the last thing that I want. It’s Saturday and I have been in court all week. Two more days to go. I will know my fate by Wednesday. I slowly walk down to the receiving rooms and take a seat, the door opens and my mother walks in. I instantly drop my eyes. We have hardly spoken a word since I found out my true paternity.
She smiles nervously and takes a seat, then she lifts up the telephone. “Hello Joshua,” she whispers.
“Hello,” I reply. My eyes hold hers. I’m so angry at her I can’t even articulate how I feel.
She twists the cord around her finger as her haunted eyes hold mine. “I miss you,” she whispers as her eyes tear up.
I swallow the lump in my throat. I miss her too. I nod sadly.
“Joshua, can you yell at me? Can you scream at me? Show me some kind of emotion. I can’t stand that you have just cut me off. Can we talk about it please?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “Just leave it, Mum,” I reply.
