Life Sentence

by Carolyn Arnold

  Driving from the underground garage, he commanded his hands-free to call Jessica’s office.

  “Good morning, Jessica Pratt’s office,” Nella answered the phone.

  “Nella, may I speak to Jessica?”

  “I suppose you could, if she were available,” she remarked sharply. “She’s in a meeting.”

  “For how long?”

  “A while.” Her words were clipped and abrupt.

  “Thanks for elaborating.” He hung up the phone.

  He didn’t want to leave a message, and he didn’t want to call back. The judgmental tone of Nella’s voice infuriated him. Women always exaggerated situations out of proportion.

  He pulled into the parking lot of Lexan, Davis & Clive. The building, though small, served its purpose. There were only the three partners with their secretaries. He had gone to university with Colleen and Richard, and they all had a good history with one another.

  “Hi there, stranger.” Colleen smiled seductively. They met in the hallway and came to a stop in front of his office.

  “Hey.” Bryan smiled.

  He couldn’t help but think as high maintenance as women were it was their bodies that made them bearable. Colleen compensated for any grief she may have caused him. She was hot in bed, uninhibited, and proud of her femininity. She didn’t recoil but welcomed exploring new techniques, unlike some other lovers he had. He remembered the smell of her sweat and the clammy dew of her skin after lovemaking. During their university days, they had been quite the item, and he would never forget those times.

  “How did things go today? Did you knock them over to your side?” She pretended to be a boxer, jabbing blows in the air.

  “Here’s to hoping I did.” He pretended to sigh dejectedly, but his lips parted into a smile.

  “Come on, you cocky bastard, you’re too modest.”

  Colleen hit him in the arm before brushing a strand of hair away from his eye.

  He reached for her arm on its way down from his face and held it briefly before releasing her.

  “Yeah, I think I did all right.”

  “Mr. Lexan,” Katie called out to him from her desk. “I have messages for you, but this one is the most urgent.” She extended a pink message slip toward him. “He left his name, but not his number. He wanted a call as soon as you got in.”

  He acknowledged her and moved to retrieve the message.

  “Excuse me if you will.” When he turned around Colleen had already left.

  Maybe this was the call he was expecting. He had a feeling it would come while he was in court today. He went into his private office, located to the side of his secretary’s desk and shut the door behind him. He dialed the number he had committed to memory on speaker and picked up once the man had answered. “This is Bryan Lexan.”

  “I have your package ready. When do you want to get it?”

  “I would like to get this taken care of sooner rather than later, but at this point, let’s make it a week today, my house, eleven PM.” They both hung up without another word.

  He sat back in his chair with his arms behind his head. If he lost the case, he had a backup plan.

  -

  Chapter 6

  SHE COULDN’T BELIEVE HE NEVER called all week. Nearly four entire days had passed. Not one word, not one card, not one flower. She assumed their plans were still on for tonight. She had been obstinate by refusing to confront him, and now she hurried around her apartment trying to make everything perfect—for him.

  She had taken off from the office a few hours early, but Nella had called to advise she set up a meeting with Mason for next week. Apparently, he just wanted to meet one on one over a light lunch.

  Not purely for business reasons, she thought. It caused her to smile and blush at her immodesty. Maybe she was pulling a double standard. She was allowed to flirt at the edges of their relationship, but Bryan wasn’t.

  She lit the last of thirty tealight candles she had set out around the space. A few pillar candles served as a centerpiece on her living room coffee table. They filled the room with a subtle hint of vanilla.

  She had a modest one-bedroom apartment, but it suited her perfectly. To her, anything larger would have been wasted space. It was close to her office and located on the eighth floor so it had a nice view.

  The finishing touches were pretty much complete. She only had to wait for the oven timer which was set to go off for seven. Otherwise, the table was set and she had put on some music to play in the background. She glanced at the clock on her wall and realized Bryan should be there soon.

  She scurried to the bathroom for one quick look over. Her ringing phone had her running back to the living room.

  “Hi there. Are you going to let me up or have you changed your mind?”

  “Well, that depends.”

  At hearing his voice, she wanted to lash out but fought the urge. She pushed the button to unlock the building’s front door. She hurried back into the bathroom to put a couple of straying hairs back in place and dusted more powder on her face.

  A knock on the door interrupted her cosmetic routine.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  She pranced to answer the door. Bryan held what appeared to be a few dozen roses. She second-guessed her feelings of animosity toward him. Her eyes widened. They traveled from the flowers to Bryan’s face.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  He handed them to her. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.”

  Curse him. She took the flowers and hugged him tightly with her free arm. He stole a kiss from her.

  “Well, maybe I should let you in.” She laughed huskily, and her eyes slit seductively. Double curse him.

  “I think it would be a good idea. Otherwise, if we keep it up we’ll be charged with public indecency.”

  He laughed and placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the apartment. He closed the door behind them.

  She headed to the kitchen for a vase, but he took her right arm and pulled her back to him. He held her tight and kissed her. When they parted from the kiss, he held her close. She instinctively combed her fingers through his hair. He held eye contact.

  “There’s something we need to discuss.”

  Great, here it comes. Her stomach tightened with nerves.

  “Okay, just let me put the flowers in a vase.” She wanted to stall time. “Would you like a glass of red wine? I have our favorite.” She forced a smile. If he was going to tell her that he fell for another woman, the thought of having at least a sip calmed her spirit a bit.

  “Sure.” He went into the living room.

  She took her time placing the roses in a vase, poured them generous glasses of the red wine, and returned to him.

  He patted the sofa seat beside him. “I want you close.”

  “I’m sure you do.” She mustered up a soft laugh. Handing a glass to him, she took a seat.

  He placed his hand on hers. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I just want to make sure that you know how important you are to me.”

  She took a sip of her wine before setting the glass on the coffee table in front of her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

  “If it was within my control, I would never hurt you.”

  He let those words stand there before moving on. The sick feeling returned to her stomach.

  “I assume Nella told you how she found me the other night at the bar?”

  Jessica nodded. She kept her eye contact steady. “Yes.”

  “Well, I want you to know I have nothing to hide there. It was strictly a business meeting.”

  “I can’t tell you all the thoughts that went through my mind.”

  “I figured.” He rubbed the back of her head with his hand. “My little paranoid woman.”

 
“Uh huh.” She pinched the top of his thigh.

  Her heart wanted to believe his words, and she did for the most part. It must have been the amount of time they spent apart causing uncertainties. She had forgotten the brightness in his eyes and how his face softened at the sight of her.

  “Let’s just forget about it.” She curled her feet under her and pressed into his chest. He placed his right arm around her. Brushing her hair back, he tenderly kissed her forehead. His heartbeat calmed her. She felt a mild vibration and tilted her head back. It was his cell phone. It rang without fail every time they were together.

  “I really have to get this Jess, but if you really don’t want me to, I won’t.”

  “Go ahead.” She straightened up.

  He answered his phone.

  “Bryan Lexan.” A few seconds later, Bryan nodded his head. “Thank you.”

  He hung up and clipped it back on his belt. He smiled.

  “Well, that’s that. All those months of working on this case and it will be all over on Monday. It’s definitely time to celebrate.” He raised his wine glass toward hers for a toast.

  “Try not to get too much ahead of yourself. The jury could have found him guilty.”

  Her eyes connected with his and she thought she saw fear in them. Fear of what, she didn’t know.

  “Let’s pray they don’t.”

  He pulled her near.

  -

  Chapter 7

  MONDAY AGAIN ALREADY AND THE rain poured down, feeling more like ice pellets. Bryan ran up the stairs to the courthouse, dodging the drops with his briefcase held over his head. Brushing his hands over his suit, he tamped down the wet spots marking it and tugged on the jacket to straighten it.

  It was almost time for the verdict to be announced.

  It could mean the end of his career or prove to be just the foundation. Despite having other cases under his belt, none matched the caliber of what winning this one would mean. Besides being able to keep his life, other high profile clients would stream his way resulting in more exposure for his firm and even more money.

  People filtered into the courtroom. Bryan stood beside his table, back to the bench, watching the doors intensely. A few minutes passed and Dimitre flung the door open with such force, his shoulder-length hair blew in the rush of air. He mumbled a curt greeting to Bryan and took his seat.

  Bryan wasn’t going to let his attitude get to him today. The decision had already been made. If he had lost the case, he wouldn’t gain anything by being polite to Dimitre now.

  Martin held a briefcase in one hand, and the other rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Rough weekend?” Bryan asked him.

  “You could say that.” His facial expression lightened with a smile. He took his seat behind the prosecution’s table.

  Bryan was happy because he didn’t really want to hear about his recreational excursions so the conversation died just as quickly as it began.

  The time had come—the courtroom was full and the bailiff commenced with opening the final day in this case. Bryan watched the jury, who, for the most part, avoided establishing any eye contact with him. Most of them appeared worn out and miserable. Despite their having come to a decision prior to the weekend, it had been stipulated beforehand all jury members would be sequestered until the verdict was presented in court. They had to sacrifice yet another weekend for a monitored stay with one another at the Holiday Inn.

  The brunette winked subtly at him, and he smiled at her. Her cheeks flushed.

  “Has the jury reached a verdict?” Judge Flannigan asked the formal question, directing everyone’s attention to the box of twelve.

  Bryan’s gaze rested on the jury foreman, an average man in his mid-forties, who stood to deliver the result. He didn’t appear to be anxious or uneasy but conveyed poise and confidence. Bryan sought comfort in that. Surely, a man wouldn’t be calm in the face of condemning Dimitre to life in prison. He would have a family and future he wanted to be a part of.

  “We have, Your Honor.” The foreman handed the bailiff the results on a folded piece of paper to take to the judge.

  The courtroom fell quiet.

  That simple sheet of paper would dictate Bryan’s future. Flannigan’s facial reactions didn’t reveal anything as he read the verdict and passed it back to the court clerk.

  “On the charge of murder in the first degree, how does the jury find the defendant?” The judge asked.

  “On the charge of murder in the first degree, the jury finds the defendant guilty.”

  The knot in Bryan’s stomach tightened its grip.

  “Sentencing will take place this Friday,” the judge stated.

  Uniformed officers rushed over to escort Dimitre to his holding cell.

  “You’re dead to me!” Dimitre lunged forward and spit on Bryan.

  Even when pulled to his feet and cuffed, he never broke the eye contact. Vengeance raged in his nostrils and his chest expanded with heavy breaths. The officers tightened their hold on him but were temporarily unsuccessful. He moved in close enough that Bryan could feel his breath on his face. He didn’t utter another word but pierced his mind with the relentless eye contact. The officers gained control of Dimitre and led him from the courtroom.

  Bryan’s head throbbed and the air felt thin.

  He had the attention of everyone in the room. Their facial expressions conveyed anxiety and fear for him. He couldn’t help but think they should be concerned, Dimitre would make good on his threat. He would likely be dead soon.

  His thoughts were spinning and he really needed to get himself together. He assumed he had primed himself enough to face this possibility. Now living the reality he wondered if any amount of preparation would have been enough. He had represented Dimitre the best way he knew how. He needed fresh air.

  Standing in the hallway of the courthouse, he braced against the wall, his hand resting on his forehead. He didn’t even remember the parts between Dimitre’s threat and making it there.

  Martin came up beside him. “Are you going to be all right?”

  Bryan laughed smugly. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

  He was an imbecile for making light of death threats in the past, yet he wasn’t one to be terrified and watching over his shoulder either. Dimitre was a different breed. He would make sure his word came true.

  This man made his own girlfriend shoot her lover in cold blood, for shit’s sake.

  Bryan wiped his brow. He came back from his thoughts, and Martin was studying him. He couldn’t let him see the weakness picking up dominance within him.

  “I’ll be fine. Come on, let’s get out of here.” Bryan raised his arm and patted Martin on the back.

  Bryan bolstered himself to face the mob of media hounds fixated on the scent of a breaking news story. He stepped out the front doors of the courthouse, and microphones were stuck in his face. Cameras were flashing and people were talking all at once trying to overpower each other.

  A young reporter stepped in front of him.

  “Mr. Lexan, what was the verdict?”

  Her cameraman came behind her aimed right on him. Her eyes begged for a break in his silence, but he wasn’t going to oblige. She could get the result from someone else.

  He maneuvered around her, trying to make his way through the pressing crowd. He bent his head down, focused on the ground and made some headway. On the sidewalk, he lifted his head and his eyes settled on a woman across the street. She stood there watching him.

  With the mist of the rain and the shadows of the buildings, it was hard to clearly make her out, but Bryan sensed it was Maxine. She took her right hand and ran it down the length of her hair. She held his gaze for a moment, but it broke when a black BMW screeched to a halt in front of her. She passed him one last glance, intensifying her silent plea for help before getting into the car. />
  Bryan sensed her hesitation. The car windows were darkly tinted so he could only make out vague silhouettes, but if he were a betting man, he’d put his money on Sergey and Anatolli.

  He pressed a flat hand to his chest thankful they hadn’t shot him on the courthouse steps.

  SERGEY SAT BACK IN THE wooden office chair and placed his feet on the desk. “To a job well done.” He toasted with a glass of vodka held toward Anatolli, who reciprocated from where he stood, angled and supported against a wall.

  They had received their directive months ago, and it had been repeated to them numerous times. Bryan Lexan was to be killed if Dimitre spent one day in jail. At this point, he faced many in a high-security prison—but loyalty ran deeper than blood and bone. They would fulfill their master’s wish as long as their hearts were beating.

  The job they were celebrating was a little side issue that had arisen. They had picked up Maxine and had driven to their warehouse near the shipping yard. It was a rundown shanty, broken windows on the upper floors, no air conditioning, but it afforded them the seclusion needed. It somehow proved wasted, though, because she hadn’t put up too much of a fight, less a few nail scratches.

  Sergey glanced at the clock on the wall and laughed arrogantly. “Seems our little lawyer friend should be finding our gift at any time.”

  “HEY, ROSA, I’M HOME EARLY,” Bryan yelled so his housekeeper could hear him. He went straight to the den, sat his briefcase on the floor, and took his jacket off.

  “Good day, Mr. Lexan. Can I get you a drink?”

  He jumped and turned around. Rosa was a heavier woman and in her early fifties, but her steps were light.

  “Actually, I’d just like to be alone.”

  “Good enough.” Rosa left.

  She had been employed with the Lexan family for years. She worked with his father, but when he passed on, she chose to stay. She knew of nothing else.

  His heart was beating fast from the scare of her coming up behind him. It only added to the nervousness and worry he experienced while mulling over Dimitre’s public threat.

  When he turned the ignition in his car, he found himself wincing as movies depicting car explosions flashed through his mind. He didn’t think that was the way Dimitre would operate, but he didn’t want to underestimate his opponent either. His instinct told him Dimitre would be the kind to play with his victim’s mental stability first—only striking the deathblow once his opponent had visions of peace.