The Cocky Cage Fighter Six Book Box Set

by Lane Hart

  Chapter Fourteen

  Page

  Each day is more stressful than the last as we get closer to the trial date. Jax is sleeping less and less each night, and I would know because I'm usually awake beside him in his bed. Whenever he realizes I'm not able to sleep either he makes love to me, both of us losing ourselves in each other to try and fight off the worry.

  The night before the first day of trial I barely slept more than an hour or two in the hotel bed. I was ready to get it over, but in a way I just wanted to hide out in our room instead of go to the courthouse.

  It takes hours to pick a jury since everyone had seen or read something about Jax's case due to all the media coverage. At last we agreed on a dozen jurors, and much to my satisfaction, seven were female. I knew Jax could persuade them to his side.

  The men weren't too bad either. Two were young, in their twenties, which I thought would work in our favor since they would be able to put themselves in Jax's shoes. Another man was in his thirties and seemed to be a conservative accountant. One was a father which had me the most worried, and the last one was a retired gentleman. I had no idea which way he'd go.

  The first witness for the State, Detective Shaw, was the officer that initially interviewed the bitch when she went to file the report late the next day…plenty of time to manufacture the bruises on her neck. I didn't have many questions for him, since he was only reporting what she told him.

  Next up, we finally got to hear from the alleged victim. I hate to admit that she's really pretty, wearing a white suit with her dark hair swept back in a chignon like mine. The prosecutor went through his many questions with her on his direct while I took notes, preparing for what to hit her with on my cross-examination. After a quick recess it was my turn to question her.

  "Give her hell," Jax whispers against my ear, making me smile.

  Judge Bray comes back in and calls court back to order, then the bitch went back up to the witness stand.

  "Ms. Davenport, your witness," the judge says to me. Getting to my feet I start toward the lying whore with a stack of our exhibits.

  "Ms. Loftis, I'd like to ask you to identify what has been marked as Defense Exhibit One. Your Honor, may I approach the witness?" I remember to ask, making me feel like I'm in a game of Mother May I.

  "Yes, you may," Judge Bray replies.

  I proceed to the witness box and hand her the first document. "Please identify that document for the jurors."

  "Um, it looks like a phone bill," she says. Her amber eyes slightly narrow at me, and her lips are pursed tightly together like she's just waiting for me to give her a hard time.

  "So it's a record of phone calls?"

  "Yes."

  "This is Mr. Malone's phone record for the night of May twenty-fourth. Do you recognize your phone number in the call log?"

  "Yes," she answers after a second.

  "Tell the jurors about those entries that contain your phone number."

  "The first one was a missed call at nine-forty-three p.m. and the second was an outgoing call at eleven oh-one p.m. that lasted ninety-eight seconds."

  "So based on your recollection and this document, is it correct to say that you initially called Mr. Malone and that he was simply returning your call?"

  "Yes, I believe so."

  "And do you remember leaving Mr. Malone a voicemail?"

  "Yes."

  "Your honor I'd like to play Defense Exhibit Two, an audio recording, and ask the witness to identify it as her voicemail to the defendant on May twenty-fourth." I hate calling Jax a defendant.

  "Any objection from the State?" the judge asks. When the prosecutor didn't object, Judge Bray lets me play the disc that contains the recording over the courtroom sound system.

  "Hey, sexy, it's Christina. I just saw you on TV at your brother's fight, so I know you're in town. Give me a call if you want a replay of last time."

  "Was that your voice Ms. Loftis?" I ask when the recording of her voice stops.

  "Yes."

  "And when you said 'a replay of last time' you were offering to let Mr. Malone have sex with you?"

  "I just meant that I wanted to hang out with him while he was in town again."

  Righhht.

  "And what did happen when he was in town previously?"

  "We started talking after one of his fights and he asked if I wanted to go back to his room-"

  "He asked you, or did you ask him if you could go back to his room with him?" I interrupt to set her straight.

  "Oh, um, I'm not sure."

  Lying bitch.

  "What happened after you arrived in Mr. Malone's room that first night?"

  "He slammed me against the wall and um, had sex with me," she responds, trying to sound like a delicate little flower.

  "Was that before or after you performed oral sex on him?"

  Her mouth opens then closes. "After."

  "Right, and did he initiate the oral sex or did you?"

  "I don't remember."

  Lie, lie, lie.

  "If I told you that Mr. Malone says that you were on your knees before the hotel door closed and you were the one that unzipped his pants without his prompting, would that be accurate?"

  "Objection," the prosecutor jumps in.

  "Overruled. You may answer Ms. Loftis," the judge gives her the go ahead.

  "It was so long ago I'm not one hundred percent sure."

  "But you do admit to performing oral sex on him on that occasion?"

  "Yes."

  "And then you had sex with him?"

  "Yes, twice that night."

  "And all of that occurred with your consent?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay, going back to the night of the alleged incident, had you been drinking before you arrived at Mr. Malone's room on the night of May twenty-fourth?"

  "I think I may have had one drink at the bar downstairs."

  "Just one?" I ask.

  "Maybe two at the most."

  After playing Mother, May I again with the judge, I take a receipt up to show her. "Does this look like your receipt from a bar at the Taj Mahal on May twenty-fourth?"

  "Yes."

  "And that's your signature from paying with your personal credit card?"

  "Yes."

  "And how many drinks are listed on there?"

  "Five, but I was with friends," she says quickly.

  Bullshit.

  "So what happened when you arrived in Mr. Malone's room?"

  "He attacked me."

  "Describe in detail how he 'attacked you.'"

  "He just came at me and then threw me on the bed. I tried to get him to slow down and he wouldn't. He held me down with his hand around my neck and told me to…perform oral sex on him."

  "Did you physically protest?"

  "I tried, but he wouldn't stop."

  "So let me make sure I understand your answer. You're saying that Mr. Malone's delicate and sensitive penis was in your mouth full of teeth, and you decided not to do anything but suck on it?"

  There're snickers from the gallery, and I'm almost sure one of them is Jude's.

  "I was afraid he'd hurt me if I…tried to hurt him."

  "Okay, then what happened?"

  "Then he...forced his penis into me. He kept choking me until he finished inside me."

  "What did it feel like when he was choking you?"

  "It hurt."

  "Could you explain to the jury in detail what it feels like to have someone's strong hands around your neck?"

  Hell, I can do that better than her.

  "I-I couldn't breathe."

  "And is it true that you weren't wearing any panties when you arrived at Mr. Malone's room?"

  "I, uh, I don’t remember. I may not have."

  "Why would a woman not wear panties to a man's hotel room unless she's going to have sex with him?"

  "Yes, I wanted to have sex with him, but I didn't want him to hurt me," she finally admits. I try not to visibly celebrate that small b
ut very important victory.

  I go through a few other questions to which she gives bullshit answers, and then I start asking her to identify the pictures of Jax from her Facebook page. I put those mouthwatering bad boys on the overhead projector so that there's an entire wall showing the sexiest man alive in little to no clothing.

  "Is this your Facebook account?" I ask.

  "Yes."

  "And did you post this picture on May twentieth of Mr. Malone?"

  "Yes."

  "And could you read the comment you posted."

  "Even yummier in person and tastes divine."

  We went through several other photos with similar comments.

  "So, Ms. Loftis, would you admit that you were a pretty big fan of Mr. Malone's?"

  "Yes, before he attacked me."

  "And did you get upset when Mr. Malone ignored your texts and calls after the first occasion you had intercourse?" She had already identified the call log of the six different times she'd called him and he didn't answer. And I'd happily put her five desperate text messages on the overhead. The ones asking Jax variations of what he was doing and when he was coming back to Atlantic City.

  "No."

  "No? You weren't upset that a man had slept with you and then wouldn't talk to you?"

  "No."

  "So all this, your false accusations of rape, aren't the result of being a woman scorned?"

  "Objection," the prosecutor said.

  "Sustained," Judge Bray says, preventing her from being able to answer, which is fine since it was the question that was important.

  Here goes the fireworks finale that will probably land me in hot water with the judge, but the benefits of the jury hearing it would be worth it.

  "Ms. Loftis, would it come as a shock for you to hear that Mr. Malone passed a polygraph on all of your false accusations?"

  "Objection!" the District Attorney stands up and yells. "Your Honor, the State moves to have defense counsel's last question stricken from the record."

  "Sustained, and motion granted. This is a warning to be careful, Ms. Davenport. Court reporter, please strike the last question from the record. Jurors, please disregard the last question and do not consider it during your deliberations. Ms. Davenport, you may continue, and I advise you do to so cautiously."

  "No further questions, your Honor," I respond, swiftly heading back to my seat. I hope I made my point. Since I can't offer the polygraph into evidence, I've put the jurors on notice that he took one and passed.

  Jax has a slight smirk on his lips, and I know he's trying hard to conceal his expression.

  "Next up is the doctor and then the nurse that examined her," I whisper to him.

  Unfortunately the doctor's testimony doesn't go so well for us. He said it was possible that Ms. Loftis's injuries wouldn't show up immediately, which screws us on the video and eyewitness saying she didn't have any marks on her neck when she left that night. I knew from experience the doctor was full of shit, but I couldn't very well explain how I knew.

  On the second day of trial the DNA expert testified that the DNA was a ninety-nine percent match to the mouth swab sample collected from Jax, which sucked, and we couldn't come up with an explanation for that except that she must have taken his condom. That's just too gross to believe. After that the State rested their case, and it was our turn to put on evidence.

  I still called the valet and the hotel security guard to identify the video and show the bitch's clear neck. Then I called Jude to the witness stand and asked what he heard through the hotel wall. There were snickers again after his imitation.

  Lastly, I called Jax and let him go through his whole story, contradicting hers wherever we could with the evidence again. He did great and kept his cool even during the prosecutor's cross-examination.

  Even though everything had gone as well as I'd hoped, including my closing argument, I was still freaking out. I just don't know if the jurors will believe the lying bitch or Jax. That night while we waited hours for the jury to deliberate, I barely resisted the urge to throw myself in Jax's arms for comfort. I could tell he was nervous, but trying to hide it from me and everyone else. He barely spoke, and he kept staring off into space.

  Media people began pouring into the courtroom the longer we waited, and by the time the jury came back with a verdict it was almost midnight and the place was filled to capacity.

  I tried to read the jurors faces when they filed into the jury box. After they all avoided eye contact with me and Jax I began to worry even more.

  "Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Bray asks the jury, and a hush fell over the courtroom.

  "Yes, your Honor," the accountant stands up and says proudly. He must’ve been selected to be the foreman by the other jurors.

  "All right, Mr. Malone, please stand. Mr. Foreman, if you will now read the verdict."

  My entire body is shaking as I stand beside Jax who somehow remains as solid and unemotional as a tree.

  "We, the jury, find the defendant…not guilty of the first count, the charge of First Degree Rape."

  Oh thank God!

  "With regards to the second count, the charge of Assault by Strangulation, we, the jury, find the defendant…guilty."

  What!

  Guilty?

  No, no, no. How is that possible?

  "Order in the courtroom!" the judge yells with a slam of his gavel after the gasps and muttered whisperings grow louder. "Thank you, Mr. Foreperson. We'll now proceed with the sentencing of the defendant."

  Oh no. Sentencing? I can't handle this. Everything seems to be running on fast-forward and I'm pretty sure my legs are turning to Jell-O.

  "Calm down, Page. It's okay," Jax says softly. The man who is about to be sentenced is telling me to get a grip. I meet his gaze that seems too calm for the circumstances.

  "I'm sorry," I tell him, blinking back tears.

  "Shh," he says. "You were great. You did everything you could."

  "Mr. Malone, after a finding of guilty of the charge of Assault by Strangulation, a Class H felony, and in consideration of your prior clean criminal record, I hereby sentence you to serve six months in the Department of Corrections, followed by two years of supervised release. Bailiff if you would please take the defendant into the custody of the State."

  Oh God, they were taking him now? No! I don't know what to do, but I can't just let them take him away.

  "Your Honor," I start. "The defendant would...request that he be given a reporting date...in order to get his ah, finances and everything in order before serving his sentence."

  "Your request is denied. Bailiff?" Judge Bray answers right away and nods to the sheriff deputy.

  Jax won't look at me, and it’s either to keep from giving away any emotion to the media vultures or because he's pissed at me. Likely the latter since he trusted me to get him through this, without an active prison sentence, and I failed him.

  "Your Honor, the defendant hereby gives his notice to appeal the verdict of the jury," I say quickly. "On the basis of ineffective assistance of counsel." I try to think of anything that might keep Jax out just a little longer. "Counsel requests a stay of his sentence until the appeal."

  "Request denied, but his appeal is noted for the record. And I have to say, Ms. Davenport, an ineffective assistance of counsel claim is unlikely to be founded."

  Shit!

  I can't let Jax go off to prison, I just...can't! He's innocent! There's only one thing left for me to do to try and save him.

  "Then your Honor I hereby admit to the court that I proceeded with the representation of Mr. Malone after a clear conflict of interest in violation of Rule 1.8 of the New Jersey Rules of Professional Conduct."

  That has the judge's eyebrows raising.

  "Page, what the fuck are you doing?" Jax asks, grabbing me by elbow.

  "Whatever I have to do," I meet his dark questioning eyes and tell him.

  "Ms. Davenport, are you admitting in open court to engaging in an inappropriat
e sexual relationship with your client?" he asks. The entire courtroom gasps, including Jax beside me.

  "Yes, your Honor."

  "No!" Jax exclaims at the same time.

  "Then I suggest you retain your own legal counsel and surrender your law license to the court immediately."

  Shit, he’s still not going let Jax stay out.

  "Yes, your Honor."

  "Page, no! God, why did you do that?" Jax asks. I watch in horror as the bailiff handcuffs his wrists in front of him. A tear escapes and runs down my cheek when they take him away.

  "Court is adjourned," the judge says, and the courtroom erupts.

  I stand paralyzed, not knowing what to do without Jax. I'm going home and he's...

  "Page," Jude says when he appears beside me.

  "I'm sorry," I tell him. "I'm so sorry."

  His arms go around me as the tears pour out. "Hey, don't you dare blame yourself. You did great."

  "I let him down," I sob.

  "No, you didn't. He loves you and I know he doesn't blame you. He blames that bitch for lying about all this shit."

  "I'm going to try and go see him." I need to talk to him, one on one without a room full of people and cameras. Oh God, I just admitted to sleeping with him in front of all these people! The whole world knows what an unprofessional whore I am.

  "Page! Page!" I hear my name being called. Turning around, I groan when I see my brother. I don't need his shit right now.

  "Save the lecture, Logan. I know I screwed up. Disown me for all I care," I tell him, not in the mood to deal with him or our father.

  "Come on," Logan says, yanking on my arm to pull me away from Jude.

  "What are you doing?" I ask, jerking away from his grip.

  "I've got an idea to save your ass and your law license," Logan says, surprising me.

  "Y-you do?" I ask.

  "Yes, now let's go through the back hallways to avoid the crowd," he says, heading for the exit to the judge's chambers only attorneys can use.

  "I'll call you," I yell to Jude and he nods.