Black Limit

by Charlotte Byrd

  I glance at Brie, who gives me a brief shrug. I search the room for Lizbeth. She was just here and now she’s not. Suddenly, she re-appears. No smile. Not even a wink. There’s a sadness that’s settled onto her porcelain face. A heaviness that’s resting on her shoulders. What is it? What’s wrong? I want to yell out. Her walk down the aisle takes what feels like forever. Finally, she’s within earshot. She leans closer. I can see her labored breaths against the cold air. Puff. Puff. Puff. Little clouds that escape her lips and disappear before reaching mine.

  “What?” I ask, not fully grasping what she says. She repeats herself.

  “What?” I ask again.

  “Ellie has been arrested for murder,” she says again. This time, I hear her. I hear her, but I don’t exactly process it.

  Chapter 25 - Aiden

  When I surprise myself…

  Though I don’t quite understand the words that have come out of Lizbeth’s mouth, my body seems to. For a moment, everything turns to black. My vision gets blurry and disappears completely. It’s as if I am looking through a telescope and I close my eyes. But then a moment later, I open them. At this moment, everything becomes crystal clear. My thoughts come into focus. And I know exactly what to do.

  I open my mouth and start rattling instructions.

  “Call Bill Whitney. He’s with Whitney, Thompson, and Rodriguez.”

  Lizbeth nods and starts to type everything I say into her phone. Bill doesn’t sound like much of a name, but he’s one of the best criminal law attorneys out there. My business lawyers are always going on about how great he is. I’ve met him on a few occasions, social fundraising events. But I haven’t had the opportunity to see him in action yet.

  By the time Lizbeth dials his number, we are back in my room at the hospital. I’ve given instructions to her and pretty much anyone else who would listen about cleaning up the wedding party and made brief apologies about the postponement. They are no longer my concern anymore. Only Ellie is. She’s the only thing that matters right now.

  “Hello, Mr. Whitney—“ Lizbeth starts to say when she gets him on the phone. I take the phone away from her.

  “Bill, this is Aiden Black. We met a few times back.”

  “Yes, of course,” he says in a groggy distant voice.

  “My fiancée has been arrested for a murder she did not commit. And I need your help.”

  The details are ironed out quickly. He says he will be here soon. He will be taking a private plane out of New York, which I of course will pay for. In the meantime, he will be sending another attorney to meet me at the police station right now.

  “Our goal is to make sure that she does not say anything incriminating to the cops, which would make all of this much harder.”

  “Incriminating? But she’s not guilty,” I say, quickly jumping to Ellie’s defense.

  “Yes, of course. But that doesn’t mean that the police can’t turn her words around and make her say something that she doesn’t mean. Innocent people incriminate themselves all the time.”

  I arrive at the police station ready for a fight. I’m wearing a well-tailored suit. My hair is brushed. My armor is up. I’m here to rescue Ellie, if that’s the last thing I do. Bill’s proxy, Thurston Daniels, is already here. They say I have to wait in the lobby. I can’t go in the back. I can’t talk to the cops. I just have to wait and wait. And then wait some more.

  When I thought that time was passing slowly at the altar, now it’s positively crawling by. I read all the magazines. I drink ten cups of shitty, lukewarm, yellow coffee from a vending machine. A few people who work at the station come over to tell me how much they like using Owl. None of them are cops, but I appreciate the compliments. One of them even goes so far as to say that they were assholes for firing me in the first place.

  I continue to wait. Lizbeth joins me. I ask about going to see Ellie again. Again, I’m not allowed. She tries as well, but the police officers remain unwavering. I get another big lump in the back of my throat. But my faith in Bill and in the legal system remain steadfast. She is innocent. Blake attacked her after he attacked me. He was going to kill her. She killed him in self-defense.

  All of that is true. But how did they get enough evidence to arrest? The District Attorney had to sign off on this. So, what is it that they have on her that I don’t know about?

  Chapter 26 - Ellie

  When I’m inside…

  The cell smells of urine and sweat. I’m alone here, but it’s definitely big enough to hold more people. But tonight there is no one else. Is that a good thing? I don’t really know. Perhaps. But it would be nice to have someone to talk to. To vent about the fact that they arrested me at my wedding. Right before I walked down the aisle. I’m still wearing my fucking wedding dress, for crying out loud!

  How could they do that? Who gave them the right? They stopped me from even telling Aiden what’s going on. They just snatched me up, leaving him all alone up there. What if he thought I had cold feet? What if he thinks that I don’t want to marry him?

  I bury my head in my hands. This isn’t the time to think about any of that. Sitting here, in a fluorescent bright room, without a ray of natural light or even a sense of what time it is, the last thing I should be thinking about is how they ruined my wedding. I should be thinking about the fact that I was wrongfully arrested for killing a man who attacked me. Who tried to kill the love of my life and put him in a coma. But somehow none of that matters that much now. All that matters is Aiden. I close my eyes and take my mind back to him. To his beautiful face and his luscious lips. To the way he possesses both kindness and toughness at the same time. I have to hold onto him to get through this. I have, I need to believe that this is all a big mistake, in order to survive.

  I look down at my stomach and cradle it in my hands.

  “It’s going to be okay, baby,” I say to my unborn child. “Your daddy is going to make everything okay. I know it.”

  My attorney, Thurston Daniels, arrives sometime later. There’s no clock here and they took away my phone, so it could’ve been half an hour later or four hours, for all I know. He’s a serious, no nonsense type of man with gray hair and dark eyes. He introduces himself and asks me if I talked to anyone about anything. I shake my head no. He asks me again, just to double check. Suddenly, I’m relieved that I didn’t have anyone in the cell with me. I probably wouldn’t have been able to abstain from talking to them.

  “What about the cops?” he asks. “What did they ask you?”

  I shrug and gloss over the details. “They asked me stuff, but I said I was waiting for my lawyer. I’m sure glad that you showed up. ‘Cause that was a total lie.”

  I smile at him, trying to break the ice. But he’s either not the type to smile or isn’t in the mood. Instead, he excuses himself and disappears for a while. I’m left all alone again with nothing but dark thoughts circulating around me.

  How do people spend years here? Let alone, how do they do time in solitary confinement? Especially the innocent ones. The ones who were convicted of crimes that they didn’t commit. How do they spend years sitting here in these bright, windowless rooms and wait their life away on appeals? It has barely been a few hours and I’m ready to claw my eyes out. My only consolation is my baby.

  “I’m here, honey,” I speak out loud. “We’re going to get through this. Daddy is going to help us. We won’t be here for long.”

  But no matter how much I talk or stare at the textured concrete walls, Thurston Daniels doesn’t return. Not for a while.

  Long after I get tired of waiting, I finally give up and lie down on the cot. I’ve fought against this. I’ve sat on the edge, as if that would somehow make the time pass more quickly. Lying down is some sort of defeat. It’s accepting my fate of spending the night at the police station. But the pregnancy and all the ups and downs of the day - getting arrested at my own wedding and all - have sucked all the energy out of me. I lie down and close my eyes. And just like that, I’m somewhere else. I�
�m walking down the aisle. I’m beautiful and radiant. And since it’s my imagination, we are not getting married in the hospital garden in the middle of a snow storm, no matter how nicely it’s decorated. Instead, we are somewhere warm. The sun is shining and the water is so blue and clear that you can see all the little yellow and blue fish swimming around the bottom. Aiden is waiting for me.

  When I walk up to him, he gently lifts up my veil and I lose myself in his eyes, which are wet with tears. He tells me he loves me and vows to always be there for me no matter what. I promise the same thing in return. The details of the vows aren’t clear to me now. The only thing that is, is how much I am loved in this moment. And how that love we feel for each other will never vanish or fade. But only grow stronger.

  “Ellie. Wake up. Ellie.”

  There’s a pounding on the door. Brutish and loud. A harsh disagreeable voice yells my name. When I open my eyes, I’m back in jail. My head is pounding. Throbbing. My mouth is parched and I realize that I haven’t had any water in a long time. As soon as I sit up, I feel queasy.

  “You’re out on bail,” the same voice says, hitting something metal against the door. The sound is so shrill that it sends shivers down my body.

  “You’re outta here,” he says, opening the door. When I walk past him, he hisses, “at least for now.”

  Blood drains from my extremities and my fingers turn to ice. What does he mean by that? What the hell does he have against me? Thoughts start to swirl around in my head, making me feel even more sick to my stomach. I follow him out through the double doors into the main room. That’s when I see him, Aiden. My Aiden.

  He’s sitting on the bench at the far end of the police station with his head hanging down. His fingers buried in his hair.

  “Aiden!” I say meekly. My voice breaks in the middle of his name, but he still hears me. When he looks up, our eyes meet and the defeated expression on his face vanishes immediately. He jumps up to his feet and practically teleports himself across the room.

  “Ellie, oh my god, how are you? Are you okay?” He takes me into his arms. The sweet scent of vanilla takes all of my worries away. I nod and tears start to roll down my cheeks. He wipes them off and then buries my head in his shoulder.

  “It’s going to be okay. Everything's going to be okay.”

  It takes me a few moments to calm down a bit. But I finally get it together. I wipe my eyes and then rub the remnants of the wetness on my dress. Oh my God. I’m still wearing my fucking wedding dress. What a sight! A bride on her wedding day lying in a holding cell. How pathetic. And wrong.

  “How are you…standing?” I ask after a moment. “Are you okay?”

  Aiden smiles.

  “A little tired, but okay.”

  “Oh my God.” I wrap my arms around him. So, he’s okay. Almost all okay.

  “I was only using the wheelchair around the hospital as a precaution. I’m okay. Medically that is.”

  I know what he means.

  “Take me away from here,” I say, taking his hand. He gives a squeeze and leads me outside. I don't know if everything is going to be okay for good. All I know is that it’s okay for now. And that’s good enough.

  Chapter 27 - Ellie

  When we deal with lawyers…

  What follows is largely a blur. Days pass as we meet with my lawyers, or rather the lawyers that Aiden hired for me. They devise a strategy. They make calls. They change the strategy. Finally, Bill Whitney goes to have yet another chat with the District Attorney. When he comes back, he isn’t as calm as he was before.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Bill demands, furrowing his brows. Aiden and I are sitting around the hotel suite. We ordered room service. The food is still sitting under those silver domes on the delivery tray.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “He said that they have your journal.”

  “My journal?”

  “You’ve kept an online journal. You wrote that you wanted to kill Blake.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that,” he says. The tone of his voice is scolding. Disapproving. Who does he think he is to talk to me this way? Especially, since he has no idea what he’s talking about.

  “It’s nothing,” I say with a shrug. “I was just venting.”

  “Well, it looks like premeditation.”

  “Well, it wasn’t. I was angry at Blake and I was just expressing myself.”

  Bill paces around the room. “That’s what I’m trying to convey to the DA, but so far he’s not buying it.”

  “So, what does that mean?” Aiden asks.

  “He thinks, or at least, he acts like he has a case. I’m trying to convince him that he doesn’t. If I can, then he will drop the charges.”

  I take a bite of my salad.

  “The problem is that these DAs have gotten really big heads. With all the mandatory minimum laws it’s no longer the judges who are in charge of making decisions. It’s the DAs. If they decide to charge you, if they decide that they have a good enough case, then they move forward.”

  “But this has nothing do with a mandatory minimum.”

  “Yes, I know. If you are tried and convicted, you will go away for a very long, long time.”

  His words send shivers through my body.

  “It’s just that the mandatory minimum laws have given district attorneys way too much power and they are a bit drunk on it. Especially, this one.”

  I take a few more bites of my salad. The chewing is so loud inside of my head that it somewhat drowns out all the fears and the doubts.

  “But it’s going to be okay, right?” Aiden asks.

  “This online journal isn’t a good thing. I really wish you hadn’t written those things.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. But honestly, I was just venting. Writing is my way of expressing myself.”

  Bill shakes his head.

  “Yes, I know,” he says, raising his eyebrows. Another sign of disapproval. What the hell is this guy’s problem?

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “Well, your writing is kind of a problem. You see, you’re not the most sympathetic defendant out there.”

  I shake my head and narrow my eyes.

  “Why are you giving me that look?” Bill asks. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I don’t really appreciate your tone, Bill,” Aiden steps in. “What exactly do you mean?”

  “Your girlfriend writes porn. If this goes to trial, the jurors aren’t really going to understand that.”

  I gasp.

  “I do not write porn. I write romance novels.”

  “A series of novels where a woman is auctioned off to the highest bidder? With extensive sex scenes? With bondage, and anal plugs?”

  His words make my skin crawl.

  “I’m sorry, Ellie, I know that this is the twenty-first century and all and women are out there reading and watching Fifty Shades of Grey. But there’s no guarantee that regular women, normal women, who will be on your jury will understand that. Especially, when the DA reads some of your writing on the stand.”

  I shake my head and look away from him. Is he really saying this to me? My cheeks flush with anger.

  “How dare you?” I say, feeling my blood starting to boil. “I write romance novels. Yes, they have sex scenes in them. But so what? That’s what people do, you know. Have sex. There’s nothing wrong with that. My characters are in love. My stories are about how no matter what happens, you can get through anything as long as you have love.”

  “That may be the case, but that’s not what the jury is going to see. The DA will read some of your literary stylings and paint you with the brush of a sex maniac. He will say that you are not the norm. That only crazy, sex-crazed women would read the smut that you write. He will make you into a villain.”

  “I don’t like the tone of your voice, Bill,” Aiden says. “Can we tone it down a bit, please?”

  “I’m just telling you the truth. But I guess tha
t’s too much for you two.”

  “No, what you’re saying is your opinion.”

  “My expert opinion. After many years of legal experience.”

  “Bill, I hired you to represent Ellie in this case. I did not hire you to berate her and make her feel bad about what she does.”

  “No, the jury will do that all on their own.”

  I stare at him. His bald head. His pin-like eyes. His soft jaw and protruding stomach. Suddenly, it hits me. He is getting a kick out of this. He is actually getting off on putting me down.

  “Do you have a problem with me?” I ask after a moment.

  “No, of course not.”

  “Because it sounds like you do. Do you have a problem with my writing?”

  “Your writing? I couldn’t care less about your writing.”

  “So, why is it making you so mad?” I ask. I’m trying to stay calm. But below the surface, I’m fuming.

  “I’m not mad. I’m just expressive.”

  I shake my head.

  “Listen, you can do whatever you want,” Bill says. “I’m just telling you what people are going to think about your so-called books.”

  “My so-called books?” I repeat his words back to him. Something about this man isn’t right. Not at all.

  “Listen, Ellie, I’ve read your books. Some of them. What I could get through anyway,” he says, rubbing his temples. “They are not my cup of tea.”

  “They are not written for you,” I say.

  “But you think you can just write anything you want and publish it and put it out there, huh?”

  Chapter 28 - Ellie

  When the truth comes out…

  I stare at him, dumbfounded. Yes, in fact, I know that I can write something and publish it if I want to. Something’s wrong here. This guy, Bill Whitney, has a problem with me and it has nothing to do with the case. No, this goes much deeper than that.