by T L Swan
“We are after bail, yes?” he asks.
“Yes, your honour,” Arthur replies. “The accused poses no risk and a substantial bail will be met.”
“I object, your honour,” the police prosecutor demands. “The accused is a cocaine addict with a criminal record of assault, aggravated assault and a history of aggression including cage fighting. He is currently under investigation for the murder of a prostitute in Australia who he was having sex with while he was in a relationship with the victim Miss Natasha Marx. We have photographic evidence of the level of abuse she suffered at his hands and video footage of him threatening to kill her bodyguard only hours before she went missing. The drug found in her system was found at one of his properties with his fingerprints on the vials. He has unlimited funds, his own private plane and is a huge flight risk.”
I start to hear my pulse in my ears and my eyes flick to Cameron who drops his head. Adrian gives me a weak smile to try and calm me and my father and Ben stay stone-faced.
I can’t stay in jail.
“Objection, your honour. You cannot discriminate against him because he is a wealthy man,” Arthur argues.
“And nor can we let him get away with murder for the same reason,” the prosecutor argues. “His victim has lost her life. Who is going to argue for her if we don’t?”
“Miss Marx’s body has not been recovered. She may be alive and being held hostage. Natasha Marx’s family themselves are staying with Mr Stanton. He is not a risk. He wants justice bought to the criminal who did this,” Arthur argues.
“The sharks have eaten the body,” the prosecutor yells. “She was dead before she hit the water—nobody can live through that blood loss.”
“Enough,” I scream as I stand. “Don’t you fucking talk about her like she’s nothing!” The guards push me back down in my seat. “Don’t you dare!” I scream across the room through my tears.
The room falls silent and the judge studies me over his glasses.
I drop my head as I inhale deeply to try and calm myself and my racing heart.
The hammer sounds on the desk. “Bail is denied,” the judge orders.
“You honour, please,” Arthur argues.
“Decision made,” the judge announces.
“You honour, I ask that we be given a quick trial. My client cannot be in jail for months before this is heard. All evidence is circumstantial. He is an innocent man.”
“Very well,” the judge answers. “Court dates to be set within a month.” He slams his hammer again and stands and leaves the room.
I sit still, stunned to silence. I’m not going home. I’m in jail.
Cameron and Adrian run to the front of the courtroom to see me. “It’s going to be ok,” Cameron whispers as he puts his hand on my arm reassuringly. “It’s ok, stay calm.”
“It’s ok, Joshua, we will get you out. You just be strong, ok,” Adrian whispers. “We will get you out.”
My eyes flick to Ben as the guards pull me to a standing position. He’s the only one who can help me now. “Find him,” I mouth.
He nods. “I will. I promise.”
I am dragged by my cuffs out of the room and into my own private hell.
Natasha
I sit on the floor in the semi-dark room lit only by the lamp. I have a black eye from being hit earlier today and I think my rib may be broken, but I’m not sure. I have turned the televisions back on silent. If only I could turn them off completely. I’m unable to watch my sister and best friends cry at the water’s edge as the police look for my body. Joshua is in hospital. Who is with him? Who is taking care of him? I can’t stand the thought of him going through this.
The door slowly opens and I cringe, expecting that huge mean man, but instead I see something unexpected. A young sandy blond man smiles gently at me while carrying a tray of food.
“Hello, Natasha,” he says softly. “I brought you something to eat.” He places it nervously on the table and lifts the lid to show me pasta and dessert.
I frown and stay silent as I try to sum up this situation. What the hell is this guy doing here being nice? Am I in the fucking twilight zone?
He wrings his hands in front of him nervously and produces some Advil from his pocket. “I brought you some pain medication.”
I frown in response. I’m so confused.
He stands nervously as I sit on the floor. “Are you going to eat?” he asks as he gestures to the plate.
I bring my knees up to my chest in defence and shake my head.
“Natasha, I have to stay in here until you eat and if you don’t I have to call Carl back in,” he replies gently.
I frown.
“He will hurt you. Please eat,” he urges.
I swallow my fear of the animal who was in here earlier. I have no doubt that he is the one who has been assigned to kill me when they are ready.
“What am I doing here?” I whisper.
He looks down at the food and puts the lid back over it. “Don’t ask me questions.” He holds my arm up, undoes my bandage, looks at the stitches and then wraps it back up.
“Please I beg you. Please help me. Let me use your phone to ring the police,” I whisper.
“Stop it,” he snaps.
I shake my head nervously and stand quickly. “Please, please. My family are looking for me. They are frantic.”
He shakes his head nervously and leaves the room and I hear the click of the lock.
I close my eyes in frustration and slowly sit at the table and look at the food in front of me. I can think of nothing worse than eating right now. I put my hand on my chest. Joshua would not be eating. What pain is he going through?
I need to get out of here. I need to get to him.
Who is doing this?
I look back at the food. I am hungry. I need to stay strong. I slowly eat the food that has now gone cold and I take two of the painkillers with some water. This is a nightmare. I pace through the room for another hour as I wrack my brain for some answers. So there are two men here and I am being looked after. Why?
Ransom, they want money.
If Joshua is in hospital who will they send the ransom note to?
I have an hour-long shower as I wrack my brain, trying to work out who is behind this. I get out and look through the wardrobe for some pyjamas. A pair are folded in the top drawer and I shake my head as I put them on and lie on the bed. I have no idea what the hell is going on. I can only hope the demands gets through to the right person. God, what a mess. I look back up at the television and see a different angle of the crime scene being filmed from the chopper and I frown at the screen as I sit forward. Is that Jesten standing near the water in the crowd? The camera shot moves and he moves out of focus. I flick to the other television that is ten minutes behind the first news and I wait for the story to come back on. I stand closer to the screen and the story comes on.
There. Right there by the water. Jesten. Jesten is at the crime scene. What the hell is he doing in America?
Chapter 23
Adrian
I stand nervously at the terminal waiting to see that face. It feels like a lifetime since I saw Nicholas last. My mind drifts to the last time he came to my office and I couldn’t even look at him. I knew then that if I made eye contact with him it would be all over. I frown as my eyes stay focused on the ground.
Everything happens for a reason and maybe the reason Nick came into my life was to help me work out who killed our beautiful Natasha and how to prove Joshua innocent. This is the biggest challenge I have ever faced. I’m so grateful that he has come to help me and I won’t be facing it alone.
A deep sadness sweeps through my body. I’ve never felt like this before. I can’t believe Natasha’s dead—how can she be dead?
I’m so gutted. I can’t even imagine how my dear friend Joshua is feeling. He lost his soulmate and now the world thinks he killed her. The media coverage on this story is just crazy. If there was anyone in the world who didn’t know who Joshua
Stanton was before, they do now. Every channel on every platform has hourly reports about Joshua and his past. The stories they are digging up are scaring even me. My eyes flick back to the clock on the wall for what feels like the hundredth time. Nicholas’s plane is delayed. For some reason the image of Joshua and Natasha dancing at that fancy dress ball we went to in Sydney keeps running through my mind. It has been for days. Why that image? The way they looked at each other, the way he held her. I keep remembering him swinging her around, her carefree laughter and the deep love apparent in their eyes. How will he ever recover from this? How do you ever fill a hole so deep?
I am pulled from my thoughts as the doors open and Nicholas comes walking through.. His smile broadens when he sees me. He gently leans down and kisses me on the cheek before pulling me into an embrace and I hold onto him tightly and close my eyes. “Thank god,” I murmur.
He pulls out of our embrace and kisses my forehead. “I’m here now,” he whispers into my hair as he senses my inner turmoil.
I smile and nod, embarrassed that I have just revealed how much I need him at the moment, and I take his laptop from him and we walk toward the luggage terminal.
“Did you have a good flight?” I ask.
He smirks. “Not really. Fifteen hours on a plane is never good.”
I nod and smile nervously. He’s still beautiful—nothing has changed since I saw him last. I feel like I have known him for years and yet we only spent that month together. It’s weird the connection we have. Why do I feel like this?
His eyes linger on my face a little too long. “It’s good to see you,” he murmurs.
Emotion overwhelms me and I feel like bursting into tears. “It’s good to see you too, Nicholas.”
We wait for his luggage in silence and I can feel my nerves rising.
“I’ve booked you into a hotel,” I reply.
His eyes meet mine. “I’m not staying in a hotel,” he responds.
I frown in question.
“I’m staying with you, Adrian.”
“Nick.” I shake my head in frustration. I should have known he would do this.
“In the spare room. There is nothing sexual about this visit. I am here to help you find who did this and to handle the press. That is all. I am a man supporting my dear friend through one of the toughest times of his life. My mind is far from sex, Adrian.”
I smile softly. “Thank you,” I whisper and after a moment of holding his eyes I add, “So is mine.”
Joshua
I get out of the car with the chains on my hands and feet. It’s just on dark and I have been transferred from the police station to the prison. I have never been so terrified. I know what goes on in these places and it is not fucking going on with me. God help the bastard who tries it. The adrenaline has already started to pump heavily through my veins. I’m angry, so angry I can’t see straight. Not only has the person stolen my beautiful Natasha’s life, they are now stealing mine. This was a planned set-up. Their aim all along was to frame me for their crime. I am going to rip the life from their bodies quicker than they can say the word die.
“This way.” The guard ushers me toward the doors and into the office where I am fingerprinted again and inducted into the system. Eventually, after an hour of paperwork, I am led into a long corridor lined with cells.
“Oh yeah.” A big bald man calls, “Looky, looky what we have here.” He purrs.
I glare at him through the bars and keep walking down the hallway to the collective sound of wolf whistles. Oh my god, this place stinks of body odour, cleaning fluid and sex, and my stomach rolls at the thought. Eventually we get to the end of the corridor and the guard slides opens the barred door with a key and holds it open. My eyes search the space: a small single bed with a plastic mattress on one side and a stainless steel toilet with no toilet seat and a sink next to it on the other. No windows, no doors. My eyes close in pain. I can’t stand the thought of being locked up in here. I feel claustrophobic. I can’t stand it. Don’t leave me in here. No.
“In,” the guard grunts.
I bite my bottom lip to try and stop myself from losing it.
“In,” the guard repeats.
I hang my head and slowly enter the small cell. He undoes my handcuffs and feet chains and gives me a small smile. “Keep to yourself,” he whispers quietly. “Don’t get into any trouble and you will be rewarded.”
I nod and drop my head.
“I will bring you some blankets. Have you eaten?” he asks.
I shake my head with my eyes cast down. Food is the absolute last thing on my mind.
“I will bring you back some food,” he replies, but hesitates before he leaves the cell and my scared eyes rise to meet his.
“You will be ok,” he says reassuringly. “Keep to yourself,” he repeats as if trying to warn me about something.
I nod and drop my head again. Another guard comes up the aisle pushing a trolley and takes off some blankets and passes them to the guard and he puts them on the end of the bed in a folded pile. He then takes a tray of food and puts it on the bed.
I stand at the doorway and look down the hall. I need to run. I need to get so far away from this horrible place and have it wiped from my memory forever. My heart starts to race at the thought of being locked in here. I can’t handle it. I’m going to go crazy.
The guard’s eyes watch me closely as if he’s seen this many times before. He must know when a man is close to the edge.
“Just eat your dinner and go to sleep,” he says.
I drop my head again.
“Just eat your dinner and go to sleep,” he repeats, somehow knowing that those words will calm me.
I nod reluctantly.
“Just eat your dinner and go to sleep,” he says softly as he closes the door behind me. I swallow the lump of fear in my throat as I hear the key turn in the lock. His eyes hold mine for a moment through the bars and I want to beg him to let me out. I’m innocent. I didn’t do this.
He gives me a sympathetic smile. “Joshua, just eat your dinner and go to sleep,” he repeats again as he gestures to the bed.
I nod and find those words more comforting than he will ever know as I watch his back disappear down the long corridor.
I turn toward the bed and see the silver tray on the end and repeat the words in my head. Just eat your dinner and go to sleep. My heart is racing and I feel like I am about to have a heart attack. I keep repeating those words again and again in my head as I cling onto them for a lifeline and as if on autopilot I do just that. I eat the cold dinner and make the bed with the linen they have supplied and I lie down knowing that the only relief I will ever have in my life again is when I dream of my precious girl and her unwavering love. She is with me. I can do this.
I wake cold and shivering as I listen to the sound of skin slapping as two people have sex somewhere down the hall. They are both groaning in pleasure and I somehow find comfort in knowing that it is consensual. How has this happened? From the bed I look around at my surroundings. This place is a fucking shithole and my eyes glance across the hall to see a young man standing with his arms through the bars, staring at me. God, how is he eighteen? He looks fifteen at a pinch. I frown. How do people fall into this life?
“What’s up?” he says.
I nod in response but don’t reply.
“I’m Cody,” he calls.
I nod again. I’m not in the fucking mood to talk shit. Just go away. An alarm sounds and the doors all slide open in tandem and everyone starts to walk down the hallway to the right. I lie still, frozen. What the hell is going on?
“Breakfast,” the kid calls.
I don’t want to go anywhere. I stay lying in bed. The kid walks into my cell. “What’s your name?” he asks.
“Fuck off,” I snap.
He smiles.
“Come on fuck off. Your breakfast is ready.”
My eyes flick to him.
“Shouldn’t you be in juvi?” I mutter.
He smirks. “Been there, done that.” He waits for me to get out of bed and when I don’t he shakes his head. “First time?” he asks.
I turn my face away from him.
“If you don’t eat now, that’s it,” he replies.
I continue looking at the wall to escape his gaze.
“Starve then.” He sighs and walks down the hall. I lie alone in the evacuated cells and for the first time since arriving I feel like I can breathe. Personal space—I never knew I needed it so badly. I can’t be in here. I can’t fucking stay here. I feel my anxiety rise as fear grips me. I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed and put my head into my hands as my elbows rest on my knees. I take deep breaths to try and slow my heatbeat down.
“You have a visitor,” the guard calls from my door.
“Who? Me?” I frown as I look up.
“Yes, you. Hurry up and I will take you down,” he replies.
I nod and pull on my overalls and follow him down the hall and through a security door and into a series of offices. He opens one of the doors and I am led to a desk next to a glass security screen. A phone is attached to the counter.
“Sit,” the guard murmurs.
I fall into the seat and he exits through the door behind me.
I watch the door in the office on the other side of the glass. Hopefully Ben has found something and is here to get me out of here.
The door opens and instead of seeing one of my friends I see the face of the asshole I hate. My fury instantly ignites and I stand so fast my chair falls back and hits the ground and I punch the glass. He spits at my face and it hits the glass. It’s the guy Natasha nearly slept with, the cage fighter. He picks up the phone and I just glare at him.
“Pick up the fucking phone!” he yells.
I stand still, furious. I feel like a caged animal.
“Pick it up!” he screams and he slaps the glass with an open hand.
I stand and go to walk out the door behind me and it dawns on me, what’s he doing in America? Did he do this to Natasha?
