by J. E. Taylor
“What did I miss?” he asked, but the room spun and with it his stomach. He dropped his forehead onto the table and the roar of sound filled his ears. His gaze fell to the growing puddle of blood dripping off the chair.
A scream pierced through his haze and he glanced at the prosecution table. The intern was staring at the same puddle and shrieking like she saw a dead body.
Chaos erupted and Steve inhaled, closing his eyes and concentrating, making the wounds hidden by his slashed slacks disappear. He clenched his teeth at the burn snaking down his leg and gripped the edge of the table, willing himself not to lose consciousness.
CJ appeared at his side. “Are they okay?” he asked.
Steve nodded, still in the grip of the healing pain and unable to speak. He concentrated on the act of breathing, forcing slow deep breaths in and out while the pain receded.
“What happened?” he whispered to CJ.
“I kind of freaked out,” CJ said and nodded toward the image of his father on the balcony. “I gave him an ultimatum.”
Wind filled the courtroom as Ty dropped from the balcony. His wings folded neatly and faded as he waltzed up the aisle.
A hushed silence filled the room and people stepped as far away from the damned angel as they could get. Ty stopped at the defense table putting his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he said and Steve nodded.
* * * *
CJ stared at his father not knowing whether to hug him or hit him. After all the years of pleading for him to appear, he chose this moment to do so. The moment CJ threatened to kill. When Ty’s gaze met his, he saw the flash in his expression, one that he knew meant business, but instead of reaming him for the threat, he reached out pulling him into a hug.
As soon as Ty released him, Ty stepped into the center of the courtroom floor, facing the jury.
“My son can be a little hot headed at times, but he has never lied.” His gaze flicked to the prosecutor. “You could catch flies with that mouth, honey,” he directed at her and CJ stifled a laugh when she popped her mouth closed.
“Excuse me, but who the hell are you?” the judge interrupted.
“Ty Alexander Ryan, sir. I’m CJ’s father,” he said and his wings fluttered, coming back into view. “And as CJ mentioned and you all were so quick to mock, I am Steve’s guardian angel.”
The judge stared, the jury stared and the folks at the prosecution table stared.
“Ty, you don’t have to do this,” Steve said.
Ty turned toward the defense table. “Yes, I do. You didn’t even submit the envelope Lynn brought, did you?”
Steve looked down at the folder on the table and shook his head. “No, not yet.”
Ty crossed and pulled the sealed envelope from the folder along with Lynn’s certification and handed it to the judge. “I gave this to my lawyer with very specific instructions. Her certification of authenticity as well as my explicit instructions are attached.”
The judge bristled. “Bailiff, please take this man into custody,” he said.
Ty laughed. “It doesn’t work that way, sir. I’m already dead and buried and my penance for my past is keeping him alive and keeping his honor intact,” he pointed at Steve.
The bailiff approached and Ty closed his eyes, reverting back to the full angel form, including the grand wings and white light. When he opened his eyes, the jury gasped at the unearthly blue, like the wings and white light weren’t enough to convince them.
The bailiff backed away, his face a mask of fear.
“Steve didn’t have a choice in any of this,” Ty said. “I manipulated him at every turn, coercing him into becoming my friend, into letting me help him on the case, even in not allowing him to kill Kyle Winslow.
“He had no designs on our money, like this court is trying to prove with their slanted facts. He had no desire for the powers now throbbing through his veins, powers that CJ alluded to and you all just laughed at. He had no desire to raise my kids either, but there is no one more honorable and honest than the man sitting at that table. And no one I trusted more to keep my son in line.
“So you see, he was doomed from the beginning,” Ty said and smiled spreading his arms out.
“What about his recklessness in bringing your son to Georgia?” the prosecutor said, flipping a stray strand of hair from her face.
Ty turned toward her. “If that killer had taken CJ instead of Tom that would have been the end of him.”
“Why is that?” she challenged.
“Let me show you,” CJ said and turned to the bailiff. “Put the cuffs on me as tight as they can go.”
“CJ, don’t,” Steve said from the defense table and stood.
CJ turned, “Sit down,” he ordered and Steve dropped into the chair, his expression turning from concern to annoyance.
The bailiff traded a glance with the judge and received a nod. He did what CJ asked and stepped away.
The metal bit into his wrists. “Permission to approach the jury?” he asked.
“This is highly unorthodox,” the judge said. “But I’m now curious, so I’ll allow it.”
“Are these tight?” he asked the foreman and allowed the man to inspect the cuffs.
“Yes,” he answered.
CJ held his wrists in full view, stepping back far enough for the judge and jury members to see. “Open,” he announced and the cuffs popped open, dropping to the floor.
“If it had been me instead of my brother, I could have stopped Lieutenant Danforth before anyone else died. But it wasn’t and Tom didn’t know how to broadcast thoughts the way he does now, so that we can pick it up.”
“We?”
“Steve and I couldn’t hear him in Georgia, but we certainly did today.”
CJ watched the jury, their eyes riveted between him and his father, and their thoughts did a complete one-eighty.
The judge took the bait. “What happened today?”
CJ turned toward the judge. “The Windwalker attacked and from the initial condition Steve was in when he got back here, I’d say you’ll find not only Jennifer and Tom’s blood on the knife, you’ll also find Steve’s.”
* * * *
Heads snapped in his direction and he gave a shrug. “There’s also a hole in Tom’s bedroom wall,” he said and wiped his hand on his shirt, streaking the white fabric with tacky blood. “The York police can confirm I made the nine-one-one call and that they found a man on my patio handcuffed to a concrete post,” he added meeting the jury’s shocked gaze. “Telekinesis and mind reading aren’t as rare as you think, but astral projection, well that takes some time to get used to.”
Gazes jumped from him to CJ and then to the angel standing in the room.
“The police will also be dumbfounded by the lack of wounds, especially with the amount of blood splatter in both the family room and Tom’s room, but I couldn’t let them bleed to death either.”
“What?” the prosecutor whispered, her eyes glued to the bloody handprint.
“Another gift from the Ryan’s,” Steve shrugged.
Ty cleared his throat. “How do you think I walked out of the complex after having four bullets shred my chest?” When no one spoke, he elaborated. “My wife was a very special woman, and when I kidnapped her, I had no clue of just how special she was. She saved me in every way possible.” His wings fluttered, bringing his point home.
Silence fell on the courtroom again and Steve traded a nod with Ty.
“The charges against Steve are unfounded where I am concerned. I was not coerced in any way and the idea that anyone could extort from me is ludicrous.” He spread his wings. “Reckless endangerment in the framework of Georgia is debatable, but where I’m concerned, it doesn’t apply.
“Either way, you’re crucifying a good man, and considering he’s already been crucified once—literally, I think you should cut him some slack. He didn’t abuse his power as an FBI agent. I did.”
With that, Ty extended his wings and took flight, light surro
unded him and when he passed through the ceiling all eyes stayed glued to the spot until the light faded away. Then everyone in the courthouse dropped their awed gaze to Steve and CJ standing at the defense table.
Steve glanced at CJ. Thank God this wasn’t televised.
No shit.
Silence settled on the room and Steve looked at the prosecutor. “Are you done with CJ?”
She nodded and cleared her throat. “The prosecution rests,” she said and her voice cracked.
The judge turned wide eyes in Steve’s direction.
“Ty submitted my defense for me,” he said nodding toward the envelope forgotten in the judge’s hand.
Chapter 49
When they turned the corner to approach the gate, the media swarmed and Steve sent a tired glance at CJ sitting next to him in the backseat. The afternoon had drained his strength and the flight home left him will little to no energy.
“You want to open the gate?” Cleary asked from the front seat, meeting Steve’s gaze in the mirror.
Steve nodded and sent the silent signal and the iron opened to a driveway full of red and blue lights. He yawned and wiped his face, shaking the exhaustion away. He had one more fix to take care of and then he could sleep for the next two weeks if he wanted.
“Can you close the gate,” he said to CJ when the car stopped and CJ complied. He waited until the iron clicked closed before climbing out of the car. He steadied himself and scanned the array of cars, zeroing in on the one with an occupant in the backseat.
The flare of anger bloomed, giving him renewed energy and he navigated the maze until he reached the squad car. Even though he knew there wasn’t a reasonable explanation for the murders, he wanted to know why this bastard chose to ruin his stepdaughter’s life and he yanked the door open, leveling a glare at the banged up man he sent careening through the wall a few hours ago.
“Why?” he asked and the man chuckled.
CJ put his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You won’t get an answer,” he said.
“What made you think you had the right to do what you wanted with that sweet girl?” Steve asked, ignoring CJ.
“I own her,” he growled and sent a smug smile in Steve’s direction. “I’ll always own her now that she has my mark carved into her back.”
Steve crouched down. “I fixed her. Your fucking carvings are gone and her skin is as perfect and unbroken as my son’s.”
His smile faltered.
“You never owned Raven’s spirit,” he said and stood. “I understand the police found enough evidence in your shop to put you on death row.”
“Fuck you, Agent Williams,” the Windwalker snarled. “I’m filing a police brutality lawsuit against you.”
Steve laughed. “I’m not a cop anymore and as a private citizen, I have every right to defend my family against a crazy fuck like you. Besides, I was physically in Washington D.C. until about an hour ago.” He stood and closed the door on the Windwalker’s dropped jaw.
Inside the house was utter chaos until he cleared his throat. Heads swung in his direction and an eerie silence settled on the room. Jennifer was the first to move, the blanket dropping from her shoulders as she crossed the room and threw her arms around his neck, covering his face in frantic kisses.
Steve smiled and planted a welcome kiss on her lips before pulling away. “Save that for later when I have some energy.”
Jennifer smiled and turned her gaze to the couch where Raven and Tom sat, still looking shell shocked, their hands clasped together in a death grip that neither the police nor the EMTs could dislodge.
CJ stood behind Steve and he let out a low whistle when he got the full view of the room.
Steve turned, meeting his gaze. “Homicide scenes aren’t pretty,” he said, hearing CJ’s shocked response to the blood painted walls. “It’s going to take a lot of scrubbing to get this place back in shape.”
CJ nodded. “Thank god there are services for that,” he replied.
Steve turned back to the family room. Detective O’Keefe squatted in front of Tom for a moment and then he stood with the ankle tracker in his hand. He offered an apology to Tom along with his hand. Tom stared at it a minute before bringing his gaze to O’Keefe’s. After another moment, he accepted the offered hand with a nod.
O’Keefe turned, meeting Steve’s stare and he crossed the room, stopping in front of Steve.
“I don’t have any idea how you pulled this off…” he trailed off. He hung his head trying to formulate the words.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize,” Steve said. “You were just doing your job.”
O’Keefe turned and surveyed the room. “They should have died. The amount of blood alone…” he started again and shook his head. “But neither of them have so much as a cut.”
Steve heard O’Keefe’s scrambled thoughts and smiled. “I can’t give you a logical explanation, Jim.”
“I just can’t grasp this,” he said waving at the room.
“Just chalk it up to a miracle and let it go,” Steve said.
O’Keefe met his gaze. “One of these days I’ll have to take you out for a beer and get the whole story,” he said.
“You’ll need something a whole lot stronger than beer.”
O’Keefe laughed and gave Steve a pat on the back before he left. It took another hour for the police and emergency personnel to leave and when they did, Steve crossed to the gate, facing the press.
“My family has had a pretty hard couple of weeks and I would appreciate it if you folks would pack up and go home.” It wasn’t said as a question, or even a request, but a command that they were compelled to follow. He scanned the press core, watching as they packed up their belongings and dispersed.
“Thank you,” Steve said and closed the gate.
“Why didn’t you do that at the beginning of the week?” CJ asked when he stepped through the door.
Steve shrugged. “It still isn’t right, but I’m damn tired and I just want the noise to stop so I can get a good night’s sleep,” he said and turned his attention to Tom and Raven, still sitting on the couch.
He gave CJ’s arm a squeeze. “Thanks for doing whatever you did today. I’m not sure they would have gone so easy on me without your father’s display and he would never have shown up without your bluff.”
“I wasn’t bluffing.”
He studied CJ for a moment. “Yes, it was, because when it comes right down to it, you are a great deal more like me than you realize. The safety of innocent people would have won out over your anger.”
He turned, crossing the room, and took a seat on the coffee table opposite Raven.
“They took photos, right?” he asked Tom and got a nod in return.
Raven kept her head lowered until Steve took her hand and then she met his gaze. Tears streaked her cheeks in a steady stream and a brush of anger crossed his skin. He closed his eyes, suffocating the urge to lash out at her stepfather. It wasn’t his place to enact justice or vengeance for all the pain the Windwalker caused, but it was Steve’s place to heal and he opened his eyes.
“This isn’t your fault,” he said and her chin quivered. He gave her hand a squeeze. “Your stepfather doesn’t own your spirit. You do.”
“He carved…” she started and her voice hitched in her chest.
“I know, but I promise it won’t be there for much longer.” He traded a glance with Tom before meeting her gaze again. “I just need you to understand that being damaged doesn’t mean the same thing as being ruined. He may have abused your body, but only you have the power to let him crush your soul. It’s your choice.”
Her gaze hardened. “He never had the power to crush my soul.”
Steve nodded. “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt,” he said, leaning forward and planted a kiss on her forehead, sending a jolt of healing power to erase the hideous carvings from her skin and prayed it would also erase the wounds in her soul.
She gasped and followed with a whine of pain, her
eyes clamped closed and her body went rigid. Tom pulled her into his arms, rocking her through the pain until she slumped in his grasp.
Steve met his gaze. “This isn’t going to be an easy road,” he said nodding toward Raven, “She has a lot of dark days ahead of her but I guarantee if you stick with her, it will all be worth it in the end.”
Tom pressed his lips together and nodded, blinking a fresh set of tears from the corner of his eyes. Steve gave his knee a pat.
“Why don’t you take her upstairs and stay with her until she comes to.”
* * * *
Tom looked down at her limp body snuggled in his arms. Sorrow, relief and a new hope blended, setting a mist over his eyes and he forced a smile, sending a nod in Steve’s direction as he stood, carrying her up to the guest bedroom. He got her situated under the covers and ran his hand over the smooth skin of her stomach, marveling at Steve’s miracle.
His gaze drifted to her face and the peace in her expression; a vast difference from the pain carved into her features all day. He wiped the stray hairs out of her face and leaned over, pressing his lips to hers like a modern day Prince Charming, expecting her eyes to open.
The chuckle from the doorway caught his attention and he snapped a glare toward CJ.
“It will take more than a kiss from you to wake her up,” he grinned and Tom flipped the bird in his direction, stifling a smirk.
CJ’s smile faded as his gaze bounced from Tom to Raven and back.
“You really scared the shit out of me today,” CJ said in all seriousness and Tom sat up straight, seeing the first hint of tears in his brother’s eyes.
Tom covered Raven and shut off the light before stepping into the hall and meeting CJ’s gaze. Instead of saying something sarcastic as he normally would, he gave CJ a hug, patting his back and pulling away.
“Have you seen the disaster that’s my room?” he signed and swung the door open. CJ joined him at the entry.
They stared at the blood covering the floor and the standing walls and then their gaze landed on the giant hole in the outside wall. Tom opened his mind, allowing CJ to access the last two days, from the near tag in the auditorium to the fear filling his soul at the sight of the bastard attacking Jennifer.
