by Tl Reeve
A total of four bailiffs surrounded Quincy. Two were in front and two were behind him. The bastard was handcuffed, and shackled. Raymond Quincy no longer looked like a Billy Badass anymore. Jail, it would appear, wasn’t conducive to his overall looks. Matter of fact, for the first time, Quincy looked haggard and old.
Rapier knew the moment the other man noticed the two rows piled with Rafertys and Dryers. Raymond’s eyes narrowed, and his lips drew taut. Rapier couldn’t help himself; he smiled at the other man. Raymond had been forced into his seat when he spent too long staring at Rapier and Kalkin. Two of the bailiffs stood directly behind him, effectively blocking the cuffed man from turning and seeing them. Although that didn’t stop that motherfucker from trying.
Rapier couldn’t help but smirk as both bailiffs placed a hand on Quincy’s shoulders in warning. Rapier actually hoped Quincy would try something. He figured the beat down the bastard would receive might relieve an ounce of the pain Rapier had endured since leaving his mate.
The door opened again, and another bailiff accompanied by two females strolled in. One took a seat at the desk next to where the judge would sit. The nameplate on the front introduced her as the court clerk. The other, older female sat down at a stenograph machine positioned almost directly in front of the stand.
“Judge Malcom isn’t fucking around,” Kalkin muttered softly under his breath, continuing to explain. “These proceedings don’t normally require a court reporter.”
The male bailiff made his way over to the side. “All rise.” Everyone stood, including Quincy, with the help of the men behind him. “The Court of Apache County is now in session, the Honorable Judge Harold Malcom presiding.”
Judge Malcom was an impressively fit man. Rapier figured he was in his early fifties, with sandy blond hair and piercing blue eyes, which swept around the courtroom as he made his way up to his seat.
“Please be seated.” The Judge shuffled papers on his desk before he looked down to the clerk who was handing him a file. “Thank you, Christine.” He placed the file on his desk and turned his gaze toward DA Mattis. “District Attorney Mattis, you may proceed with your opening statement.”
DA Mattis pushed back his chair. “Your honor, if I may approach the bench?”
“For?” Judge Malcom inquired.
“We’ve been able to work a last-minute plea deal with the defendant’s attorney.”
If it hadn’t been for Kalkin’s arm across his chest, Rapier would have leaped across the front row and ripped both Quincy and Mattis apart.
“A plea deal for a man accused of murder, attempted murder, vandalism, destruction of property, and if my notes are correct a count of Domestic Terrorism, which will be tried separately by United States District Court of Arizona.”
Mattis nodded. “Yes, your Honor.”
Judge Malcom was as cool as a cucumber. He leaned back in his massive wooden chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Rapier could see the slight smirk on the Judge’s lips. “Must be very last minute, Mr. Mattis. I spoke to you less than an hour ago, and you told me there was no agreement on the table.”
“Things change, your Honor,” DA Mattis responded.
Rapier could hear the cocky edge to his tone. Combined with his body language, DA Mattis thought he was home free, and Raymond Quincy thought he was getting off.
“Denied. State the plea for the court to hear, District Attorney Mattis,” the Judge commanded.
“Yes, your Honor.” DA Mattis reiterated the deal he’d laid out to Kalkin and Rapier in his office. The added bonus, Raymond Quincy would only get ten years.
“And how do you feel about this deal, Counselor Beckman?” Judge Malcom inquired.
A man dressed sharply in a three-piece navy-blue suit stood from the audience. “Your honor, the United States District Court of Arizona will not be pleading a deal with Mr. Raymond Quincy on any of the charges it plans to file against him. It is our intent to charge the defendant with domestic terrorism and murder.”
Charles Franks stood.
“Sit down, Mr. Franks,” Mattis hissed at the county’s Assistant District Attorney.
Rapier wished he’d brought a tub of popcorn to watch this.
“Your Honor, if I may address the court,” ADA Franks asked.
“You may,” Judge Malcom responded.
Even from this distance, Rapier could see the amused twinkle in the Judge’s eyes. Rapier wasn’t the only one enjoying the shit show, as Kalkin called it.
Franks took several steps away from where he was sitting, effectively distancing himself from his boss. “Your Honor, it has come to my attention, and that of our Sheriff.” Rapier thought the kid was smart, to address Kalkin as such. “That District Attorney Mattis has involvement in this case that he should not have.”
“Lies, your Honor,” DA Mattis yelled.
“I will have order in my court, Mr. Mattis, or I will have you removed and charged with contempt and disorderly conduct. Am I clear?”
“Yes, your Honor,” DA Mattis said.
“Now sit down, or I’ll have a bailiff force you into your seat. This will be your only warning,” the Judge announced before turning back to ADA Franks. “Continue.”
“Your Honor, we have visitation logs from the women’s correctional prison where Marjorie Pendergrass is currently being held. We can, your Honor, with all confidence prove that it was District Attorney Mattis who has visited her. Thanks in part to video surveillance and the use of facial recognition software. Those visits correspond with incidents which have occurred within Window Rock.”
“Those visits have nothing to do with Raymond Quincy, your Honor,” DA Mattis said.
Rapier noticed this time when the other man spoke, his voice quivered, and his fear was palpable in the courtroom.
“Your Honor, I’ve spoken to Marjorie Pendergrass. She is willing to turn state’s evidence in order to lessen her time.” ADA Franks looked over at Quincy, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Rapier hadn’t known about that tasty nugget, and he pondered if the wonder twins were aware. A quick glance showed a blank look on Kalkin’s face. He knew. He had to have. Caden, on the other hand, if he looked well enough into his eyes, Rapier could see the fury reflected in those blue depths.
“Bullshit,” Quincy hollered, pushing back so quickly that he knocked over his chair, knocking the bailiffs behind him off-balance and giving him a chance to maneuver.
ADA Franks continued his statement as though the bailiffs weren’t struggling with the asshole. “I’ve compiled more evidence against District Attorney Mattis and his dealings with Raymond Quincy. Going back at least a decade. I’d like to provide that to you, your Honor, as evidence.”
The corners of the judge’s lips curved up ever so slightly. “Ironically, Counselor, I’ve spent the last two hours reviewing videos, banking statements, and reading emails going back and forth between the defendant and our District Attorney. It has been enlightening, to say the least.”
Raymond Quincy was silent. Guess he realized his fat ass was cooked. Fuck…Rapier wished he could see the man’s face. He’d pay a shit ton of money, just for that pleasure.
“Your Honor?” ADA Franks hedged, obviously confused and unaware of Kalkin’s visit this morning to the judge. “Most of the evidence I’ve been able to acquire was just received early this morning, and it doesn’t pertain to any emails. How’d—"
“Sheriff Raferty—” Judge Malcom tipped his head toward where Kalkin sat— “visited me earlier. He turned over three boxes of evidence. Including videos, the bank statements, and emails, like I said, between Raymond Quincy and DA Mattis. We should compare notes.”
Franks glance at Kalkin, who sat perfectly at ease. His massive arms crossed over his chest, watching everything play out. Rapier sensed he was waiting for something to occur. But what it was, Rapier had no idea.
“Yes, your Honor,” Franks responded, his voice filled with a mix of awe and wonder.
A growl, deep, da
rk and full of pure rage filled the courtroom. It was the only warning they were given before Raymond Quincy lunged out of the bailiffs’ hold, heading straight toward Kalkin.
“You motherfuckers. I’m going to get you, and when I do, I’m going to kill you all, if it’s the last thing I do!” Quincy growled.
“Order,” Judge Malcom hollered, followed by a loud swack of his gavel hitting the top of his desk.
“I’ll start with your little mates. Both, I’m sure they have nice tight, little pussies, but they won’t after they service the entire pack during the full moon. My males and I’ll knot them over and over again until they pray for death. They won’t leave this world so easy though. I’ll make them re-live the experience every month. Maybe even get lucky and I’ll breed a pup or two on them. When they’ve lost their luster, I’ll move to your pups and cubs. Heard you both got girls. I’ll make them pack whores by the time they’re thirteen, and your boy, Kalkin. I’ll torture that little motherfucker every damn chance I can get.”
Saber growled.
“I’ll bring you both to your knees. You and your entire families.”
It took everything in Rapier to remain stoic, while inside his lion was flipping the fuck out at the threats Raymond spewed about his family and cubs. He held his breath, already aware that Kalkin had instructed him to not engage with anything Raymond Quincy said or did.
This had to be the second hardest thing he’d ever done. The first was watching his mate drive away ten years earlier, with his cubs deep in her womb. Rapier already suspected this wasn’t going to end well. Kalkin was going to end up in jail if he went after Quincy in a fuckin’ court of law. Perhaps it’d been exactly what Raymond wanted, leaving Kalkin’s family weak while their Alpha was locked up. Rapier smiled, even if that ever happened, the pack wouldn’t be left to flounder. Rapier would step right in and do what Kalkin started.
“Bailiffs,” Judge Malcom yelled. “Remove that animal and District Attorney Mattis from my courtroom, immediately.”
Rarely was Rapier surprised by other’s actions. Kalkin’s, on the other hand, took the cake. That motherfucker laughed in Raymond Quincy’s enraged face. Rapier would have choked the life out of him without a second thought but not the big surly wolf. No, that fucker continued to laugh so hard tears streamed down his face.
Raymond lunged. “Apache County is mine. Martin was weak, and it should’ve been mine.” Spittle flew from Quincy’s mouth with each vile word he spewed. “Don’t think I don’t know how to get to you, Raferty, or you too, Dryer. I do. I know your weakness, and I’ll exploit it.”
Caden stood next, then Mackenzie in a show of solidarity. When Rapier stood, Kalkin placed a large hand on his shoulder, letting him know he had every intention of handling the deranged shifter.
When Kalkin finally spoke, his tone was laced with amusement, but Rapier heard the underlying anger. Like himself, Kalkin Raferty was pissed off. He just refused to show it.
“You know nothing about us, Quincy, otherwise you wouldn’t have threatened our mates and offspring in front of witnesses, in a court of law. I’m a sworn officer of the law. As are most of my brothers. I know how to protect my family and my pack, as does Rapier.” Kalkin sneered at the man. “Your threats have been wasted on us, Raymond. They lack originality. And quite honestly, relay the fear of an old man, whose power is slipping through his fingertips and he is unable to stop it. Let me remind you, while we’re out breathing in the fresh air, raising our kids and fucking our mates, you’ll be growing old. Forced to spend your remaining years locked in a six-by-eight cell. No longer able to shift or relieve the ache in your dick during the full moon.”
“I’ll kill you both, Raferty,” Raymond bellowed as he was dragged from the room, fighting the men pulling him. “I’ll enjoy watching the life fade from your eyes.”
“You can try it, old man, but I can assure you, I’m not weak like the males from your pack and neither is Rapier. We’ll fight back. If one of us is going to die, it’ll be you,” Kalkin said, getting in the last words before the door was slammed shut and the courtroom was cleared of Raymond Quincy.
“Holy shit, man—” Wy, the youngest Dryer, and therefore the most foolish, slapped a hand on Kalkin’s shoulder— “it’s official. You are a badass. You were so calm.”
Any other time, Rapier would roll his eyes at his brothers. This time he shot him a warning look.
“I’m anything but calm, Wy,” Kalkin bit out. “Now, remove your hand, son.”
“Sorry.” Wy took a step back. “Still a badass. Rapier, you okay?”
“No, Wy,” Rapier growled, continuing to give the youngest Dryer a look of censure.
Wy held his hands up and thankfully kept his trap shut.
Rage powered through his body. His lion clawed at the skin, wanting to be released and protect its mate and cubs. His dress shirt felt tight, as if his muscles had gotten bigger in preparation, and his claws dug into his palms.
“Get it under control, lion,” Kalkin snarled in caution.
“I’m trying,” Rapier hissed.
“Try harder.”
Jesus, this man for sure had ice running through his veins.
“Sheriff Raferty,” Judge Malcom called out, his long black robes billowing in front of him as he moved over to where they all stood. “I’m sorry my men didn’t get him out of the court quicker.”
“Don’t worry or be sorry about it, judge. I’m not. It’s on record now,” Kalkin said.
No doubt, Rapier thought, that had been Kalkin’s intent the entire time.
“Be that as it may. I’m honor bound to take all threats made against witnesses seriously,” the judge said. The other man didn’t say it, he was worried, and Rapier could see it clearly in his blue gaze. “You say the word, Sheriff, and I’ll provide protection for your entire family, including the Dryers since Mr. Quincy made threats to them also.”
Kalkin snorted. “Pardon me, your Honor, I don’t think it’ll look good for the Sheriff of the County to have protection against a defendant.” Or the Alpha, Rapier thought but didn’t say. “We’ve been dealing with Raymond Quincy’s crazy for years, sir. I’ll make sure our families, county, and pack are secure.”
“What about you, Mr. Dryer?” Judge Malcom inquired. “Do you feel the same as the Sheriff?”
“I do, your Honor.”
Judge Malcom nodded. “I figured. Be assured Mr. Quincy will be placed in solitary confinement. I know several of your pack work at the prison—” Kalkin nodded. “—I’ll make arrangements so that it is only those who are part of your pack guarding him.”
ADA Franks, having packed up his evidence, approached. “Your Honor, here is the evidence against Mattis.”
“Thank you, Counselor.” Judge Malcom took the bound, overfilled blue folder from the younger man. “I’ll review it and add it to what the good Sheriff provided me this morning.”
“Copies of everything I gave to the judge this morning were hand-delivered to your office this morning, Franks,” Kalkin said.
“Much appreciated,” ADA Franks replied.
“Is it true about Marjorie Pendergrass,” Caden asked.
“It is,” Franks stated. “She’s going to cop to murder two since she’s an accomplice. As long as she testifies against Quincy for the bombing, the murder of the agents, and everything else she has on Raymond Quincy.”
“What will she get?” Caden questioned.
Franks’ brow furrowed. “Long enough she’ll be an old woman when she finally sees the light of day again.”
Being Marjorie was a wolf shifter, it wasn’t long enough in Rapier’s mind.
“Is there something I’m missing, gentlemen?” ADA Franks asked.
Kalkin raised a brow, watching his twin intently. Rapier bet they were doing that twin thing they did, communicating with each other through their minds.
Kalkin finally broke the silence, putting the question to his twin. “Don’t know. Is there, Caden?”
&n
bsp; “What if Marjorie raped a minor, a sixteen-year-old male, and it resulted in a child,” Caden posed, his voice wavered slightly when he said the word raped.
“Jesus…” ADA Franks sputtered. “Please tell me you two haven’t been covering up crimes Marjorie has committed. You’re the Sheriff.” Franks gestured to Kalkin and then Caden. “And you his deputy. Do you know what this could mean for this case? The position you’ve placed me in?”
“We haven’t covered up a damn thing,” Kalkin snapped. “The victim was unwilling to believe it was rape until recently. It was during the full moon, and the young boy felt like it was his fault because he went out when he wasn’t supposed to when Marjorie attacked him.”
“What am I missing here, Kalkin?” Charles demanded. “I don’t want to speak in hypothetical terms anymore. Tell me who it is, and all the circumstances. I’ll go from there.”
Caden shuffled next to his twin, then let out a slow breath. “It was me. She raped me when I was sixteen. Sage Abbott, my daughter, is a result of that incident.”
Saber let out a low whistle, and Mackenzie moved from the bench behind his younger brothers to stand with Caden. He mumbled something so low to Caden, Rapier couldn’t hear it. Caden didn’t respond, simply nodded.
The calm, cool, and collected Mackenzie Raferty he had always known was gone. In its place was a man, a wolf shifter, who was enraged.
When it had been announced Sage was Caden’s daughter. Everyone took it in stride, never questioning it. A man usually knew when he fathered a child, why would anyone dig deeper. Rapier wondered if Danielle knew.
“Cookie—”
“She knows,” Caden said. “All of it.”
Rapier nodded, understanding more about the other man than he did earlier. Caden had been the way he had been with Danielle because that bitch Marjorie had scarred a young boy on his first run. It shaped Caden to not trust females or himself.
“Arizona has no statute of limitations on statutory rape. We can get her on it, Caden,” Charles assured them. “Both you and your daughter would have to take DNA tests. We can get one from Marjorie.”
“This can’t be added in the plea bargain with her,” Kalkin said.
