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Shane continues, leaning in to whisper. “The warden will testify that he saw you with Officer Trenton and you were the only inmate capable of killing him. They have you on tape kidnapping Finn. Luckily, my computer guy was able to erase the directions from the GPS on Prez’s SUV. They believe that you stumbled upon the cabin in the woods in a lucky guess. Finn hasn’t told them otherwise, so they just think you broke in.”
My heart trips over itself when he says Finn’s name and I can’t help the smile that spreads over my face when he says that he’s keeping his mouth shut. “That’s good. What’s the plan?”
He sighs. “We try to mount a defense of abuse against Trenton. Many inmates have come forward before and after you escaped. There are stacks of complaints from prisoners, even ones that are considered model inmates, saying that Trenton abused them at some point during their sentence. The warden is a lot of things, but he’s stickler for record keeping. So even though he didn’t do much about the abuse, it’s documented. It won’t be much, but we can try. Call it self-defense.”
I grin. “Yeah, that’ll go over well.” Leaning forward, I clasp my hands together. “I don’t care what happens to me. I just want to make sure Finn is fine. Have you seen him?”
“They did an interview with his mother. She said he’s doing well, but he didn’t want to see anyone. She says she’s taking care of him.”
Scoffing, I pull against my cuffs, wanting to run my fingers through my hair, but the cuffs stopping me. “I’m sure. She doesn’t care about him. She never has. He told me how she’s been towards him, so she’s not taking care of him. He’s taking care of himself.”
Fuck, I put him in a bad spot. He told me how shitty his home life was but it was already too late. I had already taken him. I wonder if she’ll change her tune since her son could have been murdered.
I fucking hope so.
There’s nothing I can do to guarantee he’s taken care of. All I can do is wait.
“Five minutes,” the guard shouts.
Looking back at Shane, I ask, “Where am I?”
“Federal pen in Kentucky for maximum security prisoners. You probably won’t land here after the trial, but this is the most secure place they could bring you before the trial. I’m trying to have them start the trial as soon as possible. A month at the most.”
I curse. “How long have I been here?”
“Five days.”
Five fucking days and it seems like an eternity. I’m not sure how I’ll handle another month. At least Finn is out and free. I told him I would let him go and one way or another, I kept my promise.
Not really wanting to hear the answer, I ask Shane the question I’m dying to anyway. “Will Finn have to testify?”
Shane gives me a solemn look and I have my answer. “He has to. He’s the prosecution’s star witness. But we’ve talked and I told him to plead the fifth or remain silent until they dismiss him from the stand. I’ll teach him how to dodge the questions that the prosecution asks, making his testimony gentle for you. Yes, you kidnapped him, but if he doesn’t answer, they can’t use his testimony against you.”
I blow out a long breath. Finn would do that for me. I know he will. At least there, I won’t have to worry about completely being fucked in the ass.
My sweet pea will make sure I’m taken care of.
Chapter 22
Rax
Jury trial, Kentucky, six weeks later
“All rise,” the bailiff says and I stand with the shackles around my ankles and the cuffs at my wrist. Much more different than my first trial. Then, I had on a slick suit that Zeke picked out for me, knowing I didn’t like wearing them, but I had to look my best. Now, I have on the prison gray jumpsuit and those shitty slippers. The only thing they gave me was a brush to run through my hair.
When we stand, I look around to try to spot Finn, but I don’t. Shane said he wouldn’t be here for the first day of the trial, as it was reserved for expert testimony. I’m not sure what experts they have lined up since it’s pretty cut and dry. Trenton and I had a fight, I broke his fucking neck and escaped. Not more to say than that.
I spot my brothers—Prez, Zeke, Jace, and a few of the other guys from all of our chapters, each with suits on. At my last trial, everyone repped their cuts hard, but the stakes are much higher this go round.
The cops tried to find a way to say my club was involved in my escape, but I wasn’t saying shit and looks like Finn didn’t either. As far as they know, I lucked up on the place and picked the lock when I saw no one was home. The homeowner said they were due back a few days after and had the fridge stocked for their arrival. Shane and Zeke set that bit up, paying off some random couple to say they lived there and the housekeeper that would have done that to say that she made the run at a local grocer that didn’t have a camera to verify.
They covered their tracks. No matter how much the cops tried to look and what angle they tried to take, they couldn’t find evidence that I was at the clubhouse or that I contacted anyone.
Shane’s strategy was to basically have me sit and look contrite. The jurors are from out of town, nowhere near where I did any of my dirt, so they should be unbiased.
Until the photo of Trenton’s body pops up on a projector screen and I smile widely. It feels like justice that I broke that fucker’s neck.
From the testimony of a prison guard, they didn’t find Trenton for two and a half days. Longer than it should have taken since prisoners were supposed to be checked on in the hole every twenty-four hours. I know they’re pissed at me about exposing how shitty of a job the guards are doing with the prisoners in solitary. From what Shane told me, heads rolled with that bit of information from all kinds of advocate groups.
