CBWR? Chapter 88

Author's notes:

Sorry, this is pretty much un-edited.  I thought I'd better get this out before running to the school band concert, for fear there would be people with pitchforks on my lawn if I made you wait any longer.

FYI - I kept the state where Edward lives annonymous on purpose, so I can decide what the laws are.  Artistic license, anyone?

It’s not for you, fucker.

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Chapter 88

Garrett Milton sat next to me and flipped through a bunch of documents, grumbling under his breath the entire time.  The prosecuting attorney, Phil Dwyer, shuffled in the door and plopped down across from me, followed by his assistant – a little dark haired guy with dorky glasses and an armful of paperwork.

I knew him.  We’d been in court a few times before, but I had always been exonerated.  He hated me with a passion, and the feeling was definitely mutual.  The look in his eyes was nothing more than sheer glee now that he had his sights on me again. 

Garrett immediately started going through the list of charges and going on about how there wasn’t enough evidence for this and that, and how he basically suggested dropping everything and calling it a day.   Dwyer looked at me as he spoke to my attorney, and spouted a bunch of bullshit about how much evidence they had, testimony from the victim’s parents, the PI’s report…blah blah blah.

I took a cigarette out of my pocket.

“There’s no smoking in here,” Dwyer informed me.  I looked into his eyes while I lit up.

“Fucking sue me.”

He just glared at me and leaned forward with his elbows on the table.  He was about to speak, but I beat him to it.

“What do you really want, Phil?”  The man hated having defendants call him by his first name.  It was his own little power trip, and I could read the shock in his assistant’s eyes that I could possibly be so bold.

He glared at me some more, but didn’t respond.

“Come on,” I prompted, “just spit it out.  You want me behind bars, right?”

“I would very much like to see that,” he admitted with a nod. 

“Well,” I said as I blew smoke right into his face, “now’s your chance.”

“Edward-” Garrett started to say.

“Shut the fuck up, Garrett.”  I didn’t look at my attorney, but kept my eyes on Dwyer.  “I’m going to offer you a deal you can’t refuse, because you know there isn’t really enough evidence against me, and your only real witness is refusing to testify.  High profile case, election year – you can’t afford the loss of votes if I’m set free.”

“I’ve got pictures of you with holding a teenage girl against the wall with your fingers shoved in her,” he snapped.  “I’d say that’s evidence.”

“She was over eighteen, and I bet she’s already told you that was consensual.” 

He didn’t respond. 

“So here’s the deal,” I said.  “I plead guilty to rape in the second degree, you drop everything else.”

“I need a moment with my client,” Garrett suddenly called out.

“No.” Dwyer and I said at the same time.

“Plea bargaining, Cullen?” he snickered.  “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” I told him.  “I go to prison, which is what you want, you get your votes, all other charges dropped.  Everyone’s happy.”

“There’s no way you’re just giving this to me,” he said.

It’s not for you, fucker.

I didn’t respond out loud, but I did blow smoke in his face again.  He leaned back to get away from it, but still ended up coughing while I smirked at him.

“It’s the only way you are going to get me,” I said softly.  “You know the chances of me getting off completely are there – you don’t have enough to tie me to anything other than a firearms possession and maybe the lame-ass transportation of a minor bullshit.  That’s what?  A year?  Maybe?  A little extra community service?  You won’t even be able to get those to stick if I decide not to let you.”

“There’s plenty against you,” he insisted.

“Whatever,” I replied.  “Take it or leave it.”

“Cullen,” Dwyer said as he leaned forward on the table to look at me over his half-moon glasses.  “I’ve been trying to put you away for years.  I can’t say this is exactly how I thought this would go down, but I’m going to take what I can get.”

“I need a moment with my client…”

“Fuck you,” I growled back, finally looking over to Garrett.  He was obviously livid.

“Edward, we’re not-”

“You’re fired.”  I said.

About four minutes of tense silence ensued before Garrett Milton stood up, tossed his papers in his briefcase and walked out of the cramped little office.  Dwyer’s assistant was filling out a bunch of paper, which he then handed over to his boss.  Dwyer gave them the once over, and then signed his name at the bottom before pushing them across the table to me.

I barely looked at them before I signed.

“We can set up the sentencing hearing for two weeks from today,” Dwyer said.  “You’re still under surveillance based on the terms of your bail, so don’t be stupid and try to skip out on me now.”

“I know that.”

He stood up and his assistant followed suit.  I stayed right when I was, finishing my cigarette and not really having anywhere else to go, anyway.

“I assume you will find another attorney to represent you?”

“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled.  He nodded.

“I have to ask,” Dwyer said to me as he was leaving, “why now?  After all this time, why are you now pleading guilty?”

I just looked at him, not willing to give him a response even if I had a reasonable one to give.  I probably could fight this, and he knew it.  I could probably walk out of here with a hung jury, but I wasn’t going to.  I couldn’t stand up in a courtroom with her there and plead innocent to what I had done to her. 

I just couldn’t.

I knew Garrett Milton would be pissed when I offered the plea bargain, which is why I didn’t tell him before hand.   He was already so sure he could get me off.  I figured I had already gotten off more than my fair share of times.  Pun not really intended, but it did turn my stomach.  I didn’t puke again – you have to be able to eat to have something to throw up. 

The rest of the day I stayed in that little office and tried to get another attorney, only to find that my bank accounts had pretty much disappeared.  All of them.  There were only about four people who could have gotten access to that info, and considering all my other businesses were now apparently being run by McCarty, I had a pretty good idea what had happened to them.  The tech company was still in my name, but the assets had been seized pending investigation. 

Every phone number I tried was no longer in service.

So two weeks later I found myself in the courtroom with a public defender, which was pretty much a joke.  I didn’t care though.  I didn’t care how much time I did.  It would never be enough.  Nothing would ever be enough.

My eyes never left the table in front of me with its little bottle of water and manila envelope filled with copies of the papers I had signed.  The public defender stood up at the appropriate time and entered in my guilty plea.  I barely listened as Lee Stephens took the stand, followed by Bella’s father and mother.  They all told their stories to the judge in hopes of getting me the maximum sentence in this state.

Right as the judge made me stand as she pronounced sentence, I heard the soft creek of the door in the back of the courtroom.  I didn’t have to look – I knew it was her.  I could feel her eyes on me, and my breath was gone again.  I wanted to turn around and look at her – just to see her and know she was okay – but that’s when the judge said my name.

“Edward Anthony Cullen,” she stated.  “You have been found guilty of second degree rape.  Considering all the other information provided by the testimony here today, I am not inclined to offer you any leniency.  Therefore, you are hereby sentenced to ten to fifteen years in the federal penitentiary, the maximum sentence allowable by this state.  Your sentence will begin immediately.”

The bailiff walked over alone with two other armed guards.  They turned me around to place me in the handcuffs, and that is when I saw her.

She was so, so beautiful, and so, so young.  She wasn’t in the dressy clothing she had worn all the time she was with me, but in a simple pair of jeans and a hooded sweatshirt with her hair pulled up in a ponytail on the top of her head.  She looked very much like the high school student she was.  Her eyes were wide, and her head was slowly shaking from side to side.

All I could do was stare at her as they pulled me away.

The pain in my chest, which had remained pretty constant since the day I understood what I had really done to her doubled, and the pressure was enough to make me stumble against one of the guards.  She deserved so much out of life, and I had fucked that up beyond belief.  She was everything, and she deserved to see the man who raped her punished for what he did. 

She had to know that I did it for her, right?

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Chapter end notes:

Reminder!  It still ain't over!  Bear with me a bit...or a lot.