Forever We Fall: Broken #4 (The Broken Series) (22 page)

Kyle

"Define your relationship with the defendant, Mr. Carter?"

"A mistake," I spat as I glared across the courtroom at Rachel. Her hair was tied back off her face in a severe looking pony-tail, her face void of the layers of make-up she used to plaster herself with.

She wasn’t shaking.

She wasn’t even frowning.

The woman just sat there like a zombie, with her green eyes locked on mine and I refused to look away. "She was the biggest mistake of my life," I repeated, directing every word at her. She flinched and I was glad. I wanted her to hear the hatred I felt for her, feel it in my stare. I wanted her to hear my goddamn pain.

"Could you please answer the question again, Mr. Carter?" her defense lawyer, who I had mentally nicknamed Sharky – asked sardonically. "This time with facts and less feeling."

"Where do you want me to start?" I snarled, breaking eye contact with Rachel to glare at the shark in a gray suit smirking at me. I'd done my research on this douchebag. Marshal Bale, with his strong jaw, beady blue eyes and rapidly receding head of gray hair, had graduated top of his class from Harvard law school – when I was just a twinkle in my dear old daddy's eye – and in the last nine years he hadn't lost a single case. He handpicked his clients and tended to take the high-profiled cases.

Well good for him, I couldn’t wait to smash his
bloody
record. I'd bet my left nut that his designer suit was paid for with money from people just like Rachel. Murderers. Murderers who were walking the streets because of him. I wondered how the hell Rachel could afford someone of his
prestigious
caliber. Rachel came from a middle-class family and I was surprised her parents could afford the services of the notorious Marshal Bale. 

"Perhaps at the beginning," he responded in a condescending tone. "And remember you took an oath to tell the
whole
truth, Mr. Carter."

Taking a deep breath, I clenched my fists and bit back the retort that was halfway out of my mouth. I fucking hated that Lee was here and had to listen to this, but I was compelled to tell the truth.
Think of later. Think of later…
"I met Rachel during my first semester of sophomore year."

"Details, Mr. Carter," he prompted impatiently.

"I was having lunch on the quad with my friend, Derek Porter," I ground out through clenched teeth. "And she happened to cross my path. We got to talking and I took her out on a date."

"Did Miss Grayson seek you out, Mr. Carter?" he asked. "Or was it you who did the
chasing
?"

"I had just turned twenty, Mr. Bale," I snarled, my feet tapping rapidly against the timber floor of the dock. "I didn’t know what I was walking myself into when I asked her out."

"Would it be a fair statement to say you were sexually attracted to Miss Grayson?" he asked steadily.

"Yes," I grudgingly admitted, my eyes seeking Lee out in the crowd. "But that quickly changed." When I found Lee, the pain in her gray eyes took the air out of my lungs as I watched her cling to Derek.

"Were you physically intimate with Miss Grayson?" Sharky asked.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" I demanded. Jesus Christ, this was so wrong. All I'd done to Lee, all Rachel had done to her, and she had to sit here and hear the gory details. I felt sick with guilt.

"Just answer the question, Mr. Carter," he sneered.

"Yeah, I was physically intimate with her," I snapped. "Happy?"

"How many times?"

I shook my head and gaped at him. "What?"

"How many times did you have sexual intercourse with my client, Mr. Carter?" He smirked and strolled over to his colleague sitting at their desk. Glancing briefly at the paperwork on his desk, Mr. Bale turned his attention back to me, smirking cruelly. "Once? Twice? More than fifty?"

"I don’t remember," I sighed as I rubbed my brow in frustration. "I have a habit of repressing life-scarring memories."

"A rough estimate then?" he tossed out airily.

"Jesus Christ, are you serious?" I demanded. My eyes landed on Kelsie, who nodded her head slightly, warning me to answer. I exhaled roughly. "Four or five times a week for two years. You do the math." Bale's brow rose in surprise, his eyes gleamed in victory and my stomach sank with the realization that I'd just walked myself into his trap.

"Two years," he repeated in feigned surprise. "Did your sexual relations with my client overlap with your sexual activities with your roommate, Delia Bennett, in those
two years
?" Shrugging with indifference he added, "I'm merely asking because the dates don't quite add up, Mr. Carter. There seems to be a significant period of time, five months to be exact, where both Miss Grayson and Miss Bennett claim to have been your lover…"

"Yes," I hissed in defeat, bowing my head in shame. I couldn’t look at Lee. "Yes, they overlapped."

"Two women," he gasped in an astonished tone. "Were you also involved with the deceased, Camryn Frey, during this time?"

"No," I choked out in barely contained fury. "How the hell can you ask me that?" My eyes flickered to Derek and thankfully his glare was directed at Marshall Bale and not at me. "She was like my sister," I snarled.

"Forgive me for my misjudgment, Mr. Carter," he apologized. Walking back to his desk, he picked up a sheet of paper and cleared his throat. "I simply asked because I have sworn affidavits from five other women who claim to have had sexual intercourse with you during the same period of time."

Clearing his throat, Bale read from the page in his hand with relish. "Gemma Perkins. Candice Herron. Hannah King. Bianca Johnson and Lauren Parker." Smirking he asked, "Ring any bells, Mr. Carter?"

"Objection," Lorrie Manson, attorney for the prosecution, roared. "Your honor, I fail to see how Mr. Carter's sexual history has anything to do with the case in hand."

"On the contrary, your honor, my client was involved in a relationship with Mr. Carter for two years and his sexual indiscretions have been found, as you already know, to have triggered her anomalous behavior on the night of June twenty-eighth," Marshall Bale countered with ease.

"Overruled, Counselor Manson," the judge said calmly. "Answer the question, Mr. Carter."

"No," I mumbled.

"Are you saying that all five of these women are lying?" he asked sharply.

"No, I'm not saying they're lying," I said in a weary tone of voice. I was so fucking disgusted with myself for my pre-Lee behavior that I felt like I was going to puke. "I'm saying I don’t remember their names."

"That many, huh?" Bale sneered. "So many you couldn’t bother to take note of their names?"

"Yes, that fucking many," I shot back angrily.

"How many of these women did you impregnate, Mr. Carter?" he demanded. "How many of these women did you promise fidelity and marriage to?"

"One," I snarled, chest heaving, as I tried to keep my ass on my seat. "Just one."

"Are you sure about that?" Bale asked scornfully.

"Positive," I shot back.

"Then you're a liar," he hissed. 

****

Derek

I'd had many moments in my life when I'd felt like I was dreaming. This was definitely one of them. Sitting in a crowded courtroom, listening to my best friend's sex life being picked apart and laid bare, had to be one of the most surreal moments of my life.

I felt numb.

I felt like I was watching a goddamn circus where Rachel's attorney was the ring-master and Kyle was the caged lion being whipped and lashed mercilessly. Only once, in last two hours, had I heard Cam's name mentioned. I thought that was a pretty big fucking joke in itself considering it was her murder trial.

Cam's parents, Ted and Mora, were sitting a couple of rows behind me and I couldn’t look at them. I knew full well the grief-stricken expression on their faces would be enough to make me crack. One look at Cam's mom and my heart would rip in two. I was still hurt as hell over the way they'd treated me during her funeral. They'd had Mike sit with them – fucking Mike Henderson – when I'd been the one who'd taken care of their daughter for the best part of nearly three goddamn years. No, I would never get over the sense of betrayal I'd felt when I'd seen him sitting with Cam's parents the day of her funeral. Where the hell was Mike now? Moving the hell on, and me? I was still stuck in goddamn limbo. Yeah, it was getting easier, more bearable, but my feelings were the same. I was still in love with their daughter –still in love with a dead girl…

Like me, the Frey's had been to every day of the trial, but this was different. Even the air seemed to be thick with tension, thrumming with nervous anticipation. The gloves were off and the nails were out. It was dirty…  

"Did you, or did you not, offer marriage to my client, Mr. Carter," Rachel's defense attorney demanded, glaring at Kyle. "The truth this time."

"I've already told you," Kyle snarled, nostrils flaring, as he leaned forward menacingly. "She tricked me."

"Did Delia Bennett trick you too, Mr. Carter?" the lawyer sneered. "Were you
tricked
by two girls?"

"No, Lee didn’t trick me," Kyle spat. "I asked her to marry me."

"Was that before or after you broke off your engagement to my client?" the lawyer shot back. "Did you propose to Miss Bennett before or after she
tricked
…fell pregnant with your children? Twins, isn’t that correct?" he taunted. "Terrible turn of events for you both."

I immediately clamped my hand down on Lee's bobbing knee, steadying the tremors that were ripping through her body. "It's gonna be okay, sweetheart."

"I can barely breathe," Lee whispered as she clasped her hands together tightly and exhaled a choking breath. "She's looking at me." She rubbed her cheek frantically and my heart broke for her. "I can feel her eyes on my face, Derek."

"She's not looking at you, Lee," I coaxed.
She's looking at Kyle…
"Just relax, sweetheart. Deep breaths."

Shifting around on the cold wooden bench Lee clutched her stomach. "I need to go," she hissed and jerked out of her seat, swaying on her feet. Kyle turned his head in our direction and the pain I saw in his eyes was brutal. "I need to get out of here, Derek," she cried. "Now."

Clamping my arm around her waist I pulled her onto my lap, hoping like hell I wouldn’t be taking an ass-kicking from Kyle for this. "Lee," I whispered in her ear. Covering her small cold hands with one of mine, I wrapped my other arm around her waiflike body, and glowered at the couple of assholes who had turned in their seats to gawk at us. "You're safe," I promised. "No one's gonna hurt you here, ice."

"I can't," she cried, clenching her eyes shut. "I can’t do this." Digging her fingers into the fabric of my shirt, she let out a slow choking breath and gasped for air. "I can't hear this."

"Listen to me," I murmured softly. "If you leave now it will kill him." That was true. As hard as all of this was for Lee to hear, it had to be killing Kyle to
know
she was hearing it. They were supposed to be getting married later. If he saw her run out of here…well, let's just say I wouldn’t like to be the one standing in his way. "He'll lose it, Lee," I told her. "He'll run off the stand and chase you, sweetheart." I had no doubt that's exactly what Kyle would do if Lee ran out of here. "Do you want that to happen?"

"You're right." She released a ragged breath. "I've done enough running." Straightening her back, she shimmied off my lap and stared up at Kyle. "I'm going to stand my ground this time."

****

Chapter Nineteen

Lee

My palms were sweating. My heart was hammering inside of my chest. Every inch of my body trembled violently as I strived to keep my emotions in check and breathe slowly. I kept my eyes focused straight ahead, unmoving. I knew whose eyes I would meet if I even so much as twitched my chin sideways. I could feel her gaze on me. My face was burning from the heat of her stare.

Oh god…

"Tell us about the first time you met the defendant, Miss Bennett," Rachel's defense lawyer, Mr. Bale, asked, his beady blue eyes narrowed and focused on me.

I'd been on the stand for over an hour, had answered all of the prosecution's questions, but there was something about Rachel's defense lawyer that frightened me… I opened my mouth to answer his question, but nothing came out. I opened my mouth again and this time a small whimpering noise tore from my throat.

"Anytime today would be good, Miss Bennett," he drawled in a condescending tone and for an instant David Henderson's face popped into my mind.

Guiltily, I shook the image of Kyle's dad from my mind and focused on the question I'd been asked. "It was at a house party," I said finally, my voice barely audible. "I met her at a house party two summers ago."

"In her boyfriend's house?" he asked me, his eyes gleaming with superiority. "Her fiancés house?"

"In my fiancés house," I countered and immediately got the feeling I had walked myself into a trap with that statement. "My fiancé," I affirmed quietly.
My husband in a few short hours…

I could feel Kyle's eyes on me. Boring into my skull. I longed to look at him – to feel his hand in mine – but I couldn’t. If I saw him I would lose it. And If I lost it he would snap. Our future depended on this moment. I needed to keep it together. Too much was riding on me staying calm and telling the truth to fall apart on the final hurdle…

"Ah yes, that's right," Mr. Bale mused. "
Your
fiancé. Kyle Carter." I nodded and the lawyer's eyes gleamed. "Tell me a little about your relationship with
your
fiancé." He smiled darkly, glanced back at the jury and said, "Let's start at the beginning, shall we? Tell us how you came to be Mr. Carter's fiancée."

I was prepared for this question. I'd known with months what Rachel's defense team were going to try to do, try to make me look like. From the glares of the jury I guessed their tactics were working. He was condemning me. I was being judged.

"I met Kyle…Mr. Carter," I quickly amended. "When I moved to Boulder two years ago." I folded and unfolded my arms in a bid to distract myself from the weighty stares. "I needed somewhere to live and Mr. Carter rented me a room in his house."

"For how much?"

"Excuse me?" I blinked rapidly, unprepared for the change of course in his questioning. "I don't understand your question."

"For. How. Much. Money. Did. Mr. Carter. Allow. You. To. Live. In. His. Home?" he asked slowly, enunciating each word clearly.

"Fifty dollars every paycheck," I mumbled, thoroughly mortified. I wondered why I was being asked this of all things when a woman had been murdered. What the hell did my rent have to do with guns, bullets and criminal agendas?

"Was that fifty dollars all inclusive?" Mr. Bale asked. I nodded immediately. "
Fifty
dollars," he whistled, rudely interrupting me from answering
his
freaking question. "That was a very modest amount of money, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Bennett?"

I opened my mouth to answer him, but he spoke over me. "Very modest indeed," he mused. "Especially when you take into account your portion of light, water, cable and heating bills…not to mention the fact that every house on that street and in the local vicinity has a letting value of between three and four and half thousand dollars per calendar month."

I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to answer him, or just trying to belittle me and make me out to be a whore. I suspected the latter so I kept my mouth shut and waited for him to speak. I didn’t have to wait long…

"Could you please clarify to the members of the jury the name of your employer during this period, and how many shared Mr. Carter's home with you?"

"I worked at the Henderson Hotel in Boulder and Mr. Carter was my employer." I knew where he was going with his question. I was being stoned. Hung, dried and quartered.
Branded a prostitute.
"And I lived with Derek Porter, Camryn Frey and my…Kyle Carter."

"Mr. Carter was your employer as well as your landlord?" His brow rose in feigned surprise and I wanted to cry. "How…
convenient
for you." Shrugging slightly, he looked around the courtroom. "Forgive me for being candid, Miss Bennett, but you made quite the catch – with the property that is."

"It wasn’t anything like you're implying." I could feel my cheeks burning and I willed myself to remain calm and stay focused.

"And what exactly do you think I'm implying, Miss Bennett?" he asked innocently.

"You're insinuating I went with Kyle for the money," I said stiffly. "I used him for his money."

"And did you?" he asked dryly.

"No," I spat. "Of course I didn’t."

"Where, may I ask, do you work now?" Mr. Bale asked me, catching me unaware.

"I…" I froze, knowing what I said next made me look exactly as he intended to make me look.

"Answer the question, Miss Bennett," Mr. Bale scorned.

"I don’t work anymore." Raising my chin in subtle defiance I added, "My health hasn't allowed for it, Mr. Bale. Being shot in twice has a tendency to immobilize a person. I've had surgery twice on my organs, and my kidney transplant was a delicate procedure that I have yet to fully recover from. Of course, the fact that I was also shot in the stomach has caused other physical ailments for me."

Exhaling heavily I added, "However I am very grateful to be able to walk again. Three months confined to a bed was an unpleasant experience, especially when I was away from and unable to nurse my newborn baby. It does sadden me that I lost my right as a mother to breastfeed my only child. I won’t have another chance to," I added. "Considering I've been left infertile from the whole ordeal."
Take that, creepy shark man…

There was a rush of gasps and quiet murmurs from the crowd, but I didn’t dare look. My eyes flickered briefly to Ms. Manson, who was beaming with pride. She nodded ever so subtly, letting me know I'd done well.

Red-faced Mr. Bale asked, "Who supports your financial needs?" Seeing me blanch, he smirked in triumph and added, "Without an income how do you pay for your medical expenses? Your day to day living costs?"

Ducking my face, I clenched my eyes shut and steadied my breathing before I dared to speak. "Kyle does," I mumbled as shame engulfed me

"I'm sorry? I'm a little hard of hearing..."

"I said Mr. Carter does." I snapped my head up and met the defense lawyer's sneer head on. "Kyle pays for everything." Sighing wearily I added, "Every stitch of clothes on my body has been paid for by Mr. Carter. Is that clear enough for you?"

"He sounds like a very generous man," Mr. Bale mused. "Quite a catch."

"Objection," Lorrie Manson, lawyer for the prosecution, objected. "Your honor, I fail to see how the witness's personal finance has any relevance to the case in hand. And may I also remind Mr. Bale that Miss Bennett is an
innocent
witness in this case and
not
the defendant."

"Sustained, Ms. Manson," Judge Alissa Panterra, a middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense attitude and severe looking features, agreed. "Mr. Bale, is there a point to this interrogation and if so then please make it quickly."

"Miss Bennett," he drawled. "Tell us about your relationship with Mr. Carter."

I inhaled a shaky breath before speaking. "At first we were just roommates…"

"Let me just stop you there," Mr. Bale said with a smirk. "You two were never just roommates, Miss Bennett, were you?" He leaned closer to me. "Your very first encounter with Mr. Carter was of a sexual nature, am I wrong?"

"Objection."

"Overruled."

"Yes," I forced myself to admit. "But I didn't know…"

"You
didn't know
Mr. Carter was in a long term relationship with the defendant," Mr. Bale filled in, his tone arrogant–aggressive. "You
didn't know
that you were indeed stepping over a line when you conducted a sexual affair with Mr. Carter? Is that what you were going to say?" He shook his head and pointed his finger at me. "You
did
know my client was involved with Mr. Carter."

"Yes, but…"

"But you continued without a regard in the world for the feelings of my client. You purposefully pursued a man who was engaged to be married."

"I wasn't fucking engaged to her," I heard Kyle shout out and I sighed. "You're twisting this whole thing up to suit you," he snarled. "Rachel, you need to tell the goddamn truth." He exhaled sharply. "Please, Rachel, please, for once in your life, do the right thing," Kyle pleaded in a gruff tone. "Lee didn’t hurt you. You
know
this. Don't make her suffer because of me…"

"Order in my courtroom," Judge Panterra demanded. "This is your final warning, Mr. Carter."

Inhaling a deep steadying breath, I turned my head towards the crowd and my eyes locked on his intense blue stare. "Don't," I mouthed, feeling terrified for him. "I'm okay." The pain in his eyes cut through my heart. He had no control in here and it was killing him. He looked so helpless...so torn. Flashbacks of how Kyle had been when Linda died penetrated my mind and I flinched, reminding me that he wasn’t impenetrable. Kyle was very much human...

Mr. Bale smirked at me and it was clear this was what he was hoping for. He wanted to rile Kyle up. And now he knew exactly how to do it.
Through me.

"And then you fell pregnant with Mr. Carter's baby," he sneered. "Ending all hopes of reconciliation between the defendant and her fiancé. Was that your intention?" he demanded in an aggressive tone. "Did you plan to entrap
your fiancé
with a child? Did you feel any remorse for the broken hearted woman who had, before you embarked on your sordid affair, been in love with Mr. Carter?"

"I…" I blinked away the tears that were pooling in my eyes and pressed my hand to my chest, willing my heart to keep beating. "I love him." I inhaled a deep breath and focused my gaze on the defense lawyer.

"People have affairs every day, Mr. Bale," I said softly, amazed that my voice didn’t break. "That is not what happened in this instance, but even if it was…" I paused to wipe my eyes. "If an affair
was
how Kyle and I came together, did that give Rachel the right to aim a gun at my chest and pull the trigger?" I closed my eyes, felt the tears trickling down my cheeks. "Did her anger, her feelings of rejection, give her the right to take the life of Camryn Frey?"

"I'll ask the questions in this
instance
, Miss Bennett," Mr. Bale warned, the vein in his temple bulging.

"Only because you don't have an answer to my question," I replied steadily. "Or maybe you do, but can’t answer because you would reveal the truth behind the title of your job as a
criminal
defender."

"Are you proud of yourself?" Mr. Bale demanded. "Are you proud that your actions led a young woman – who had her whole life ahead of herself – deep into a downward spiral of depression, paranoia and drug use?" His voice rose with every word he spoke. "Do you feel any responsibility at all for your heartless actions?" He shook his head in disgust. "A young girl is dead, Miss Bennett," he scorned before pointing a finger to where Rachel was sitting. "And this young woman faces a lifetime of despondency because
you
and Mr. Carter couldn’t keep a handle of your fickle teenage hormones."

"You can't blame us for her actions," I shot back, trembling. "I had no part in her thought process." I steeled myself and pointed at Rachel. Exhaling a ragged breath, I blinked back the tears that were pooling in my eyes. "Rachel Grayson threatened me for months, made threats about my baby, poisoned my dog, and murdered my best friend."

"Miss Bennett,
you
are responsible for all of this," Mr. Bale roared, clearly having lost his temper. "Maybe not directly," he sneered. "But you played an enormous role in this unfortunate series of events." Pointing his finger at me, he snarled, "You are, without doubt, the equation of this blood-soaked sum, and
you
most certainly are not without fault…"

"She is
not
responsible," Kyle roared, jerking out of his seat. "All she did was fall in love with me – fall into a world full of bullshit and pain."

"Sit down, Mr. Carter, or I will have you removed from my courtroom," I heard the judge admonish.

"Sit back and watch this fucking injustice?" Kyle shook his head in outrage. "This is a joke. A goddamn joke."

"I'm guilty," a voice shouted out, stunning the courtroom into silence. Everyone turned in the direction of the defendant's box, expressions of shock clear on their faces.