by Riley Ashby
The prosecutor didn’t bother to introduce himself to me. There was no greeting, no friendly exchange of names. Just a brief explanation of who I was—and then it began.
“Tell us about the night you first met the deceased,” the attorney said, looking at me without expression.
I took a deep breath. You can do this.
“I was at a party with my brother. It was just an excuse for a bunch of businessmen to get together, and he didn’t want to go. So I said—”
“I was under the impression that you did not meet the deceased until you had arrived in New York.”
I swallowed and nodded. I had been worried they would try to suppress this part of my story. I had to make sure this got out so that the people holding my fate in their hands understood how little choice I had when it finally came time to take that man’s life. “He was present on that night as well, although I didn’t speak to him until later. But that was the first night I met him.”
The prosecutor nodded and gestured for me to continue.
“I told my brother I would go with him to the party, and I would say I didn’t feel well so we could leave early.” I inhaled again, trying to keep my heart rate steady. I already felt lightheaded. “My brother was busy talking with his business partners, so I got myself a drink and milled by the bar.”
“Do you drink frequently?”
I bit my lip. I knew this question would come, but that didn’t make it any easier. Two months as a slave and still the world wanted to know how much I had drunk the night I was kidnapped. “I generally don’t drink in public. On the night in question, I only had one drink.”
“Was that when Mr. Reilly approached you?”
“Yes, he walked over and introduced himself to me.”
“Had you had never met him before?”
“No, that was the first night we spoke.”
“What did you talk about?”
He was speaking so quickly, I couldn’t get a handle on my responses. I tried to remember what we had rehearsed with Lee. “He asked me why I was at the event. He knew my brother and recognized me since we share a resemblance. I told him I was there as a favor to my brother, but that I wasn’t feeling well so we would be leaving soon.”
“And how did he react when you said that?”
I shivered as I remembered the way he had grabbed my arm. Even then, I knew something was off about him. “He started acting very concerned. He insisted I come to another room to sit down.”
“Did you go with him?”
I shifted. I knew where this line of questioning was leading. “I didn’t want to leave my brother.”
“But you did go with Mr. Reilly, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you go with him if you felt uncomfortable?”
I looked at the women in the jury box now. “I didn’t want to be rude.”
A couple of women pursed their lips and looked away.
“And what happened once you sat down?”
I shrugged, then froze. I didn’t want to look nonchalant. “We spoke for a little bit. I sipped my drink. I tried to text my brother, but he took my phone. He said he wanted to put his number in it.”
“Did you tell him you didn’t want his phone number?”
“I didn’t want to upset him. I didn’t know anything about him, and I had no idea how he would react to me rejecting him.”
“So you didn’t give him any indication that you were uncomfortable.” He said it as a statement, not a question.
“I tried to leave the conversation several times, but he kept … putting his hand on me. Holding my arm. And then he pushed my drink into my hand. I hadn’t even realized I put it down.”
“Let’s go back to why you decided to stay…”
“But the drink is important. It’s when he drugged me.”
The attorney frowned. “I would like to remind the jury that the blood screening done after Ms. King returned to LA did not follow the proper procedures for a police test, and nonetheless didn’t find any evidence of whatever drug the defendant claims she was given that night.”
“Because it was long gone from my system by then.”
“Why didn’t you stay to speak with the police?”
I blinked at the sudden change of subject. “What?”
“You left New York the same night Mr. Reilly was arrested, claiming you had been freed from his captivity. Surely, if you were actually victimized by Mr. Reilly and the deceased, you would have wanted to tell your story to the authorities.”
I forced myself to hold his gaze.
“Think of being forced to endure the most shameful thing of your life multiple times a day for weeks. Months. Then imagine being expected to relive it again and again in front of men like you who are conditioned to downplay your trauma. Consider it, and maybe you’ll have a hint of why I wanted to get as far away from Chase as fast as my feet could carry me.”
He put his head down and paced slightly. “Let’s move along to the night of the killing.”
My fingers trembled against my thighs, and I clasped my hands between my knees to still the shaking.
“I was sold to the man you say I murdered. They never told me how much I went for, but I assume it must have been high because I was a virgin. Earlier that day, they came to tell me I would be with him that night. He didn’t bring me to his house at first—he came to where I was. He insisted we eat together, the first real meal I’d had in over a week. Before that, I had lived off expired protein bars. It was at that meal that I got the knife.
“I think he wanted the girlfriend experience, and that was why he let them bring me real utensils. He was polite to me, but he let me know he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt me if I didn’t do what he said. Other women must have cooperated with him before. But when he told me to get on top of him,” I gagged, “I knew I had my chance.
“When he closed his eyes, I grabbed the knife and stabbed him in the throat. I felt no remorse when I did it, and I feel none now.” Castel would be furious when he learned I said this, but I didn’t want to lie to the jury. I had to trust that they would believe my story.
“I felt free. Everything had been taken from me by this man and others like him, but I took something back from him.”
The prosecutor was smirking. He thought he had made me slip in showing my lack of compassion for taking a person’s life, but I held my chin as high as I could. I was confident in what I said, and I would say it again if I had to.
“That man would have killed me the moment he got bored. But he’ll never buy or hurt anyone again because of me.”
I expected a barrage of questions, but all I got was a curt nod. “Thank you, Ms. King. Those are all the questions I have.”
Just like that, I was dismissed. He turned his back on me and returned to his papers, but I turned to look at the jury. Some were taking notes, but others were studying me closely.
This was my last chance to speak to them.
“The prosecutor here would like to make it sound like I led a destructive lifestyle, and that I chose to go with the man who would eventually rape me numerous times, that I would kill someone in cold blood for no reason.”
My heart was a bird in my chest. Every breath was a struggle. The prosecutor was spouting nonsense, trying to drown out my voice with his own; the bailiff hesitantly tried to take my wrist, but I kept speaking.
This was about more than whether or not I was a murderer. It was about the repeated lack of consent over weeks of captivity. The jury needed to know.
“Because I was a nurse, I met a lot of other women who were in even worse situations than I was. Girls who had been beaten to within an inch of their lives. I was the only one around to set their bones. I never saw as much blood in the emergency room as I did in the bedrooms where the men would torture these women. Sometimes they were just girls, well under eighteen. If they were new, they would cry. If they weren’t, they held completely still as I helped them. They were immune to the
pain, but the shame still ran deep. There’s no forgetting how many times your own body is taken from you, even when you think you can’t handle another second. My own bones ached from my pain as I helped those women the best I could with the meager supplies I was given. Sometimes I could barely see what I was doing because I had been starved for days, but it seemed like the least I could do.”
The prosecutor was yelling now, but I closed my eyes to block him out. I sent every ounce of my awareness out to the lobby where my Castel was. I listened for his pulse. I felt the rush of blood through my own veins.
“But the worst was the abortion.”
Quiet settled over the room quicker than it should have. I hadn’t realized anyone was still listening to me.
“Those men took my own insides from me. My very DNA. When I got home, there was no question of what I would do. Every moment I was pregnant, they were raping me over and over again.” I struggled with tears as I thought about how difficult that night had been. The night I found out I was going to be an aunt. The first night I slept in my own bed without Castel. “The pain from the process was horrible. But it was nothing compared to knowing that those degenerates had tried to leave a piece of themselves inside me permanently.”
The shouting resumed. “We have no further questions for the defendant.”
I clasped my hands together, trying to stop the shaking as I finally rose to my feet. “The man I killed tried to ruin my life, but I’m rebuilding. He was successful in ruining the lives of so many others. The prosecutor is lying when he says that what I did was a crime. It was self-defense in the most heinous of situations, and I believe none of you would judge me if you had been present.”
I could hear the blood in my ears. My breath was too fast. My eyes burned. But I didn’t move. I didn’t run. I stood as straight as I could and stared at the men and women who would decide whether to send me to trial.
Everyone was silent as the bailiff helped me off the witness stand.
I was out of my chair the moment Lee told us she was done, running down the hallway of the courthouse heedless of the stares and whispers directed my way. I had sat outside the room while she was in there, desperate to be as close to her as I could manage. I had to get to her now, had to assess her well-being. I followed the directions to the room she was being taken to, a space for her to recover and take a break from the testimony before we went back to the hotel. I had insisted it be made available as soon as Vail decided she was going to testify. Archer came through for me once again in making sure it was secure.
In hindsight, bursting into the room the way I did was probably ill-advised. Vail was sitting on a low couch drinking from a bottle of water with a female agent crouching in front of her and speaking softly. They both jumped as I ran in, but Vail still managed to give me a weak smile.
“You certainly know how to make an entrance,” she said. She stood to meet me as I walked across the room, the agent leaving through the door I had entered.
I took Vail’s hands in mine, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t close enough. I cupped her cheeks, fighting the urge to hold her too tightly. Her hands landed on my waist; it was like she was burning me through my jacket.
“You were amazing,” I whispered, unable to bring my voice any higher.
She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “You don’t even know what I said.”
“I do,” I promised her. “They called a recess. The prosecutor burst into the hallway looking like a Tasmanian devil. Whatever you said, it pissed him off. It’s going to work.”
I kissed her lips. I hurt with the effort it took not to push her up against the wall and wrap her up completely.
“Castel,” she murmured, and I forced myself to pull away. When our eyes met again, hers glistened with tears.
“What is it?”
“I was so scared.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over now. And you gave all those women who couldn’t speak for themselves one hell of an homage. You were everything they needed you to be.”
“I didn’t feel very brave.”
“Listen to me, Vail.” I bent over to bring my face level with hers. “You are the strongest person I have ever met. You were so incredibly brave, not just now but every day since you came home and made the decision to keep living even when it was the most difficult thing in the world. You are the bravest woman in the world, and I am so incredibly in love with you, it makes my heart fly out of my chest.”
Our lips crashed together, both of us reaching for the other past the lies and deceptions that had kept us apart for far too long. Our tongues danced in sensuous harmony, knowing that we belonged to each other now, had always belonged to each other even in the times that we had tried to deny it. I had seen her taken, returned, and then nearly destroyed again by her memories, but not even that was enough to keep us separated. Nothing ever would be. We were bound to and for each other. I would spend the rest of my life being the strength she needed to fight off the nightmares, no matter how long they dared to plague her.
I lost myself in her kiss—not for the first time, and certainly not for the last. My hands slid into her hair and held her firmly, possessively, but without a threat. She leaned back into my hand. She moaned my name. I whispered hers back.
We broke apart as the door opened, and Sophie cleared her throat behind us.
“They’re done for today. We’re going back to the hotel.”
“Ready to go?” I asked her softly. She nodded, pupils wide and lips swollen from passion.
“Get me out of here, my love,” she said. I scooped her into my arms as we left the courthouse. Her feet didn’t touch the ground until we got to the hotel.
I knew what would happen the moment he took me to my room. There was no questioning it now.
I wasn’t healed, and I knew that. I didn’t know if I ever would really call myself whole again, but hearing those words from him had finally convinced me that there really was something still worth fighting for. My testimony was over for now. I didn’t know yet whether there would be a full trial, but I had told my story in front of more than a dozen people, and I was still standing. More than that, I felt more whole than I had in months. I was completely in love with this man in front of me, who had brought me back from hell more times than I could count, and I finally knew for certain that there was no future in my world without him in it too.
This was what I had been looking for. The love, the trust that he would be the one to break me out of my prison but still keep me safe and hold me tight even if his arms were tied behind his back.
I wouldn’t tie him down tonight.
I grabbed him the moment we were behind the locked door, dragging his face down to mine and forcing him back against the wall. His hands went around my waist automatically, dancing lightly over my dress.
“Unzip me, please,” I asked as sweetly as I could while letting one hand drop to squeeze him through his pants. He was already so hard, it was a wonder he wasn’t hurting. Maybe he was.
“With pleasure,” he moaned into my ear before spinning me around and pulling down the zipper with agonizing slowness. Goose bumps broke out across my back as the cool air hit my skin.
But then his hands were gone; he leaned back, letting me have the freedom to remove my own clothes or keep them on.
I turned my neck to look at him over my shoulder. “Keep going.”
It was almost funny to watch him visibly try to repress his excitement. He couldn’t quite conceal his smile as he slid his hands underneath the shoulders of the garment, sliding it down my arms and helping me free my arms. He hooked his fingers around the fabric bunched at my hips and helped me shimmy the dress to the floor.
Just as my heartbeat started to go a little too fast and my skin felt a little too cold, he wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder, our cheeks touching.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “That meant more to me than you could know.”
My head fell back, and
he kissed my neck softly. I pushed my ass back into him and felt him hard against me. I whimpered.
“Get on the bed.” I had meant to sound assertive, but my voice came out a little squeaky.
He walked toward the bedroom, pulling me along behind him. He laid on his back, and I set about undressing him, letting my fingers take their time on the buttons of his shirt. I pulled the zipper of his pants as slowly as he had that of my dress. When he was finally free of his clothing, I removed the last of mine. My panties and then bra fell in a pile on the floor. One of his hands flew to his cock to hold it as it pulsed at the sight of me, a line of hot pre-cum erupting and spilling across his fingers.
“You should tie me now,” he said in a strangled voice.
I shook my head as I held his gaze. I crawled across the bed as slowly as I could manage, conscious of the way my breasts hung and how he stared at them. I swatted his hand out of the way as I threw one leg across him and lined myself up with his cock.
“Vail…?”
“Let me move you,” I whispered. I grabbed his wrists and moved his hands to my hips. He let his fingers hover over my skin, barely touching.
“Help me,” I whispered as I lifted slightly and moved backward. He had no choice but to hold me tighter to help me rise as I reached between my legs and grabbed his manhood in my fist. He growled, swallowing the sound. I placed him at my entrance, feeling the moisture between my legs meet with the pre-cum running down his length as I rubbed his cockhead between my folds. I pressed it against my clit, sighing at the pleasure shot through me before putting him inside me.
I slid down as slowly as I could bear, trying to manage my raging desire with thoughts for my health. I didn’t want to lose my head, not now. But feeling him inside me was right … was what I had been searching for. I had worried that I wouldn’t be able to find pleasure again, but he stretched my limits of what I thought I could take. I pressed my hand against my stomach.
