July 24, 2017
9:45am
Los Angeles County Jail (Inmate Reception Center)
450 Bauchet St, Los Angeles 90012
“Dawson.”
My good eye cracks open and I see the officer standing at the barred door, waiting for me to respond. “Huh?”
“Your lawyer’s here. Let’s go.”
Lawyer? Oh God…
Justin.
Two nights ago is a blur now. I can’t remember much of anything…except the end. That final blow to his head once I got that baseball bat away from him. He was swinging it so hard and so fast that I’m lucky to be alive.
But the police don’t know what to believe, since I’ve barely told them a thing. Yes, I’ve been facing some severe mental anguish for months now, but I haven’t forgotten everything I learned in law school.
I guess I just…I never thought I’d be on the other side of things.
They say he’s on a ventilator. That his vitals are bad. That he’s a vegetable. They’re also telling me it’s my fault, even though I haven’t said a thing about it. They don’t know. They see my face and my bruises but they just don’t know what it’s been like since I married Tad. I doubt I could have told them. I was too shaken…too scared and in too much pain. I just kept my mouth shut and prayed to god that Justin still had some sort of compassion for me, because I didn’t think I could deal with any other lawyer out there.
The fact that he agreed to come out, left me speechless. When I called that first time and he didn’t answer, I knew that he wanted nothing to do with me or my nightmarish situation. I have no idea what I’m going to say, if I’m going to be able to speak to him calmly and make him understand what actually happened that night. It’s been too long, and we didn’t part on good terms.
“Dawson, it’s now or never.” The correctional officer sighs and crosses her arms. “Are you coming?”
“I…yeah.” I painstakingly push myself up from the concrete bed and shuffle to the door. She opens it and shackles me up before guiding me out of the cell and down to the rooms reserved for lawyers and their clients. I start trembling when she pulls me to a halt in front of one door in particular, and when she opens it, I look down at the floor immediately, praying he won’t notice my swollen eye and other bruises and cuts right away.
“Buzz the intercom when you’re through.”
She shoves me down in a chair and walks away. The heavy door clangs shut, and I know we’re alone. I still can’t pick my head up. I can hear him breathing, and something taps against the top of the table we’re sitting at . I know he’s waiting for me to say something, but when I try, my tongue seems to dry up and the breath catches in my throat. I never thought I’d be here like this, let alone be here with him as my lawyer.
I still can’t believe he came.
“Look at me.” He says it softly.
I shake my head.
“Maggie.”
I can’t help it. Hearing my name come out of his mouth is the most soothing thing I’ve heard in months. I’m looking into his eyes before I know what’s happening. He cringes.
“What the hell happened?” He leans in to get a closer look at my injuries, and I can sense how nervous he is.
I don’t answer.
“Did he do this?”
I nod and the tears glide down my face.
“Was it the first time?”
“No.” I manage it, finally.
He sighs, and sits back. “Jesus.”
I’m finally able to give him the once over. Fuck, he looks amazing. I tear my gaze away quickly.
“I need to know exactly what happened,” he finally says. “Not just the other night…but from the beginning, okay?”
“I don’t know what happened.” I shake my head harshly. “After the wedding he just…he changed. He started drinking all the time, and I guess the new fame must have done something to him. I really don’t know Justin. I’ve been hit so much in such a short amount of time that I forgot how it all began. I’ve just been taking it but…the other night…I thought he was going to kill me. He had a baseball bat and got a couple of hits off on my face before I finally got it away from him and…he just kept coming so…so I just…”
I start to sob. It takes seconds for me to become hysterical, and I can’t even wipe my face because my wrists are shackled to my waist.
“It’s okay.”
I feel him behind me, rubbing my shoulders consolingly one moment and caressing my face the next.
“Maggie, I promise…it’s going to be all right.”
“How can you know? He’s…Tad is dying and it’s my fault.”
“You were defending yourself. God Mags, you know this stuff just as well as I do.”
“It’s high profile. Everyone knows who he is. It’s going to be a fucking fan fare.”
“It doesn’t matter. Shit, Mags, I’m not going to let you lose this, okay? I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes, and with any luck the judge will release you into my custody after we post your bond.”
“Your custody?”
He smiles gently. “You’re not going to spend the weekend in LA County if I have anything to say about it. I’m going to make some phone calls, and make sure you stay in a private cell for today. Your hearing should be tomorrow morning. I’ll be waiting for you at the courthouse.”
“I didn’t think you…I didn’t think you would come.”
His gentle smile fades away. “I’m not thinking about what happened right now. That’s done. I’ve moved on. I still want to help you, though. You’ll always be like family to me.”
He walks over to the intercom, ready to buzz himself out so he can get down to work. I’m amazed. Just like that he’s ready to drop his life to make sure I get acquitted. He’s on my side, after the awful way I treated him.
“Justin.”
He buzzes and looks back at me. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about…everything.”
He licks his lips quickly and nods. Then the door opens and the correctional officer walks back inside and picks me up from the chair by the arm.
“Just sit tight,” he whispers it and vanishes through the doorway.
**************
July 24, 2017
6:00 pm
The London West Hollywood
1020 N San Vicente Blvd, West Hollywood, CA 90069
“I don’t even know what to say. Are you going to leave? I mean…the baby? What about her!”
“Hannah would you listen to me?” I lean back against the headboard and run a hand through my hair. “I am not leaving you. I’m not going anywhere. This is just work.”
“It’s Maggie.”
“It’s a coincidence that it’s Maggie.”
“You never would have dropped your life this fast for anyone else.”
True.
I sit up and sit indian style on the bed as I dig back into my room service dinner. “Can we talk about us instead of work please?”
“No. You’re not just going to blow this off, Justin! You know how I feel!”
Typical. I sigh harshly, knowing that I have no other choice but to tell her the reality of the situation. “Tad was beating the hell out of her, Hannah. I’m not going to try and send you pictures as proof, but she’s pretty beat up and she needs my help. I’m a good lawyer, and she’s always been able to trust me. Can you please just do me a favor and look past all the stuff that happened and see the situation for what it is? A friend helping a friend, that’s it.”
“She’s practically a murderer.”
“Please don’t talk about things you know nothing about.”
“Of course you’re siding with her! Why don’t you just fuck her while you’re at it?”
She hasn’t been this vindictive in a very long time. We were doing okay. Tolerating each other well and nurturing our upcoming future. Now she’s turned back into the same old Hannah, and my emotions are so worn out from today that I know I can’t deal with this too. “Look, I’m going to go.”
“Right, of course you are. Don’t expect to call me unless you’re coming back home, and you’ll be lucky if you have a place here when you do. Remember, I’m the one carrying your daughter. I don’t have to let you have access to her if I don’t want to. I’ll win, you know that right?”
“You’re going to hold the baby over my head now? Are you for real, Hannah?”
“I’m completely real, Justin. Get your act together.”
She hangs up on me. I don’t even know what to do, so I throw my cell across the bed in frustration. She’s acting like a child.
When doesn’t she?
A trap. That’s what I’m in, and I’ve been doing everything I can to make it work for the sake of my daughter.
I knew going into this that I wasn’t in love, just lonely, and she took advantage. I have a child to think of though, and that’s the only thing that makes me stick around and cater to Hannah’s every desire. It’s not healthy.
It can’t possibly last, and my kid is going to be stuck in the middle.
I let out a long breath and tug my notes back on my lap. I’ve made an excellent presentation for the prosecutor tomorrow morning. The whole thing is pretty cut and dry. It’s so obvious that Maggie was acting in self defense that I doubt we’ll spend much time in front of the judge tomorrow. I’m completely confident that the case will get thrown out, and she’ll be on a plane back to the city by the end of the week. What happens to her from there, I don’t have any control of, but as long as she’s safe…that’s all that matters.
I sigh harshly and throw the notes off my lap.
I love her. I really do. Seeing her that way in the jail, beat to a pulp, literally tore me apart inside and it took everything I had not to let those emotions out. She needed me to be strong, and I was still bitter too.
I’m not now.
But it’s ridiculous for me to be thinking this way. I have too much going on back home, the trap known as Hannah and a baby on the way that I love more than anything in the world.
I just have to get through the next forty eight hours. That’s it. Then it’ll be done.
But that’s what I said last time. I was done. I didn’t have to see her anymore. But somehow, fate brought us back together, just like every other time. I want to be angry, but I just…I can’t be. I want to save her, and a good part of me wants to love her again so damn bad.
I’m completely fucked up. I can only hope my baby turns out smarter than me.
I finish dinner and watch some mindless sitcom on the tv before I doze off, still in my court suit and shoes. When I wake up, the tv is still blaring and it’s almost five thirty in the morning. I rush around, showering and throwing on a fresh pressed suit and tie before I’m out the door. With the shitty traffic in Los Angeles, I make it to the courthouse just in time to meet with the prosecutor before my slot passes.
“Jeff.” I shake his hand and let out a relieved sigh. I went to Yale with this guy.
“Shit, you’re taking this case?” He chuckles a little. “I should have known. Barry picks up all of this media spectacle crap.”
I shrug. “I was hoping we could talk about a self defense plea.”
He groans. “Justin, really? You’re going to hand me that bs this morning?”
He pushes his way through the office door and I follow close behind. “He came at her with a baseball bat, Jeff.” I let the door close behind me and place my hands on my hips, giving him a serious expression. “She was afraid he was going to kill her. Hell, he probably would have if she hadn’t fought back.”
“That’s hearsay. Mr. Avery is on life support as we speak, and he’s not coming out of it, so we only have one side of the story. This case has turned into an overnight media circus and someone needs to be held responsible for the crime.”
“You can’t just prosecute because you need someone to blame for this.”
He shrug and sighs. “That’s politics Justin. You’re one of the best lawyers out there. You know how this works. It’s an election year and the District Attorney needs the publicity. I’m sorry. I can help with bond. I won’t petition to hold her without bail, pending that she’s released into your custody with an ankle bracelet. She won’t see a prison cell again unless she loses the case.”
“The judge can still throw it out you know. You’ll look like a fool for wasting time and tax dollars.”
“That’s the chance I’ll have to take,” he says, without remorse. “Now, I’ve decided to be lenient on the bond because I like you, but that’s all I can do. If you want to talk out a deal instead, you can tell her I’m willing to settle for Man one, seven to fifteen, with a mandatory five years served before parole will be considered. If she agrees, we can avoid this whole process.”
“I’m not sending her to prison without a fight,” I say darkly.
“All right.” He shrugs, nonchalantly. “Then I’ll see you in court in a couple of hours. I suggest you consult with your client in the meantime. If the judge doesn’t throw the case out, we can talk about the deal again.”
He begins to focus on the paperwork sprawled across his desk and I know the conversation is over.
Fuck. If I can’t manage to convince this judge to throw Maggie’s case out we’ll have to go to trial.
A trial, and my wedding is in two weeks. Hell, my baby will be here in another month and a trial can take six or even eight months sometimes.
I’m so screwed, yet, I’d never walk away from Maggie right now or hand her case over to another lawyer. I just don’t trust someone else to get the job done, and if she went to prison I’d never forgive myself.
I have to work as hard as I can to win this, no matter what.
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