Authors: Emily McKee
A Sorta Fairytale (15 page)
Thomas
I’m prepared. I have it all. Everything is set. I’m going to get the bastards who killed him. I’m going to make damn sure they burn in hell for murdering Daniel Lexon, a bold man with a bright future ahead of him. This case hits so close to home. I couldn’t imagine if this happened to her. I couldn’t imagine if I lost her.
Daniel was gay. That’s why they killed him. Plus they said, “It was fun and why not?”
I sit in the courtroom. Adjusting my tie. Looking over toward the jury, hoping like hell they listen and send the six defendants to prison for life. I can only give it my all. And, goddamn, am I giving my all in this case. I’m not going to take no for an answer. Taking a sip of water, I turn to my right hand man. “You think we got this?”
Connor leans in. “I told you, man. If they don’t rot in prison, I’ll be surprised. That’s for damn sure.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and try to psych myself up. “God, I hope so.”
It’s silent in the courtroom. No one says anything, preparing themselves for the verdict. This case has spread nationwide. It’s my biggest case to date, and while I will get an exceptional bonus and my name will be all over the news, I only want what’s best: to give Daniel’s family and friends some peace of mind.
“All rise,” the bailiff announces.
“Showtime,” Connor whispers.
Judge McCaffren walks in and sits down.
This is it. Now or never.
The jury sits. Cold faces. I can’t read them. None of them. Just blank and cold. The way the defendants sit across from me. I clear my throat. I can’t believe how nervous I am. I have never been this nervous over a case. Fuck, I’ve never been nervous over a case. Just adrenaline pumping through my veins as I put the bastards away, and rage when I don’t. I’m the best. Not cocky, but I am. I have a ninety-five percent conviction rate. I’m that fucking good. I just hope I’m good enough for this case.
I don’t bother listening to the defendant’s lawyers as they talk about how it was an accident. About all of the bullshit I pray the jury isn’t buying, but you never know. The cases I’ve lost, I thought I did a damn good job. That it was black and white. There was no competition. Nothing. That we won.
Taking in a deep breath, I let it out and turn around. I need to look at her. I need to feel a sense of calm wash over me before I speak. And I see her. Her beautiful black hair. Her cute little button nose. Her eyes shining, staring directly at me…and she smiles. That smile. I now understand how men could fight over Helen of Troy. I now understand how they could risk their lives for a woman. And once this case is over, I’ll let her go. As painful as it will be, I will do it, because I know I can’t keep her. She’s not property. She’s a human being who is in love with someone else, someone I can’t compete with because I realize you can’t compete with true love. There’s no winner or loser. It just happens naturally. It flows like the wind, a river, and the waves of the ocean crashing. And sometimes, if you’re lucky, it lasts forever. It’s permanent like the paint on a portrait, the photograph printed from a camera.
“Thomas,” Connor whispers.
I blink and turn around to stare at him. “Yeah?”
“It’s your turn, man. Kill ’em.”
I clear my throat and adjust my tie. Looking toward the jury, I say, “Love. It’s simple. It’s difficult. It comes at the most inconvenient of times.” I glance at Stella and see her eyes close as she lowers her head. I can only imagine she’s thinking about Alex. “Love isn’t easy. It’s a pain in the ass. And sometimes,” I say raising a finger, “it lasts a lifetime. But like I said, it isn’t easy. Far from it. There are trials and tribulations, tears and arguments. So I have one question. There are already enough issues when dealing with love, why add another? Why add hate into it? Some go a lifetime without finding love. And those who do? We envy them. We
envy
the love they have, because whether you’ll say it or not, we all want that. That’s really all life is about.” I point toward the defendants. “And they took it away from Daniel Lexon. A bright young man who didn’t do anything wrong. They took it away.” I look at the jury once more, and then walk back to my seat.
Connor pats me on the back. “Well done, man.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. “I just hope it was enough.”
2 days later
Thomas
“I can’t believe they took that long for deliberation,” Connor whines.
I nod. I’m too damn nervous to speak.
“Relax, man,” he says, patting me on the back. “You did good.”
Looking over at him, I shrug. “But is it good enough? That’s the question.”
He laughs. “Since when did you become so wise?”
Smacking him upside the head, I say, “Come on. We have to go.”
We walk into the courtroom. Silent. Everyone is. You can practically hear a fucking pin drop. My palms sweat. My heart thunders. God, I’m so fucking nervous.
Before I know it, they’re reading the verdict. “We find the defendant…Guilty.” I hear that. Six times over.
Connor nudges me. “We did it, man.”
Just then someone yells, “Faggot lover!” and in the next instant, before I can turn around, a loud boom goes off, and everything surrounding me fades to black.
Stella and Thomas
I race toward you. I don’t bother looking at the guards taking the man down. “Thomas!” I scream, frantic. My heart pounds. I think I’ve lost you.
Connor puts pressure to the wound in your back. “Hold on, man! Don’t die on me!”
“Oh, please, please,” I chant, falling down next to you and wiping the tears from your face while they roll. “Baby, hold on! Don’t you dare die!”
I love you.
Everything else is a blur. The ambulance comes and takes you to the hospital. They ask me questions. Are you allergic to this? Phone numbers and questions I can’t answer, because I don’t know. After all, it was a rule. No talk of the past or a potential future.
Hours go by before I’m able to see you.
“Miss?” the doctor says standing in front of me.
I’m holding a cup of coffee. I’m not sure how I got it. I haven’t even had one sip. “Y-y-yes?” I stammer, so worried my lips are numb.
He smiles down at me. “He’s fine. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s stable now.”
I jump up from the ripped, matted, ugly green chair. “Can I see Thomas?” I whisper.
He nods. “But just for a few minutes. He’s pretty out of it, and he needs his rest.”
“Thank you.” I follow behind the doctor toward your room.
The doctor opens the door and holds it for me. “Just a few minutes,” he reminds me.
“Okay.”
After the door closes, he’s gone, and all that’s left is you and me, I break. I fall to the edge of the bed and crumble. Out of pain. Out of fear that I lost you. “God,” I whisper. “You can’t ever scare me like that again! Don’t you dare, Thomas!”
I push all thoughts of Alex aside. A potential future. One I refused to talk with you about. And I stay. Stay with you. Hold you. Take care of you. Things we haven’t done. And I sleep on the chair in the corner. I stay with you through the night. A few nights, actually.
5 days later
Stella
I grab a few things from my apartment. I'm going to stay with Thomas until further notice. You say no. Tell me I should get back to normal. But how can I do that? And what the fuck is normal anyway? I almost lost Thomas. For a small second, I contemplated telling you. Telling you everything there is to know. The secret. Just one, but it's enough, and then some.
I think about Alex. Often, but I just can’t. Can’t do anything about it.
I can’t hurt them. They’ve already suffered through enough.
Both of them have.
So, I suffer in silence. Some may think it’s a bunch of bullshit. That I’m playing them both. I’m not. At least I don’t think. Then again, my opinion is a biased one. I happen to think I love both of them way too much to hurt either of them. And what I’ve learned through this process is that everyone is hurt. I once heard that the selfish live the longest. I never understood that. Until now. I’m falling part, thinking over everything, and when I think about hurting them…I stop. My mind erases. My thoughts vanish. And I’m back to square one. Stuck in my dilemma.
Alex
I need her. I do. I can’t walk away from this. I know she’s scared. I am too. In fact, I’m terrified, but I can’t be without her. I sit in the coffee shop, the one where we had our first real alone time without him. I never thought she would fall for me. I didn’t plan on it, but it happened. And it’s the best thing that has or will ever happen to me.
I take a sip of my latte and allow the warmth to fill me. The buzzer goes off, and I don’t look up until a warmth travels through my being, and I know she’s here.
“I’ll have an iced coffee, please.”
Stella.
She must sense I’m here too, because her back stiffens. She looks like she’s been through the wringer. Her hair’s a mess. No makeup on, and sweats. Something she rarely does.
“Stella?” I try to smile, I really do, but it’s hard. Impossible, in fact. I can’t smile. I don’t have her, and it doesn’t seem like she’s all that happy either.
“Alex,” she whispers. Tears flood her vision and a small smile comes to her beautiful face.
I stand and start to walk over to her when the barista says, “Here you go, sweetie.”
She looks away from me and takes it, muttering, “thank you,” under her breath. Looking back to me, she smiles.
“How are you doing?”
She shrugs. “I’m okay, I guess.”
“Liar.”
Looking away from me she says, “Alex, please don’t.”
“Will you sit with me?”
This time she does look up.
“Please?”
“Okay,” she whispers.
I know she’s fighting it, fighting us, but she’s sitting with me. So I will take it and hold onto it like it’s treasure, because to me it is. It’s the best thing that has happened to me in a while. I’ve felt…incomplete without her. And I know that sounds so completely ridiculous, but I can’t explain it any other way. My love for her runs so deep. I would do anything for her, even watch her with someone else. I know she’s been with another for months, and I can’t do a damn thing about it. I’ve loved her for a while now, and I’ll love her for a lifetime.
We sit down, and I take a sip of my drink. “How are you, Stella? Really.”
She shrugs and places her drink down in between us, cupping her hands together.
I know I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t touch her because that jolt will come back. The jolt I feel only when she and I touch. But I do. I guess I just love torturing myself in the presence of a beautiful woman. And she allows me. Even takes a hold of my hand tightly. “I miss you, Stella,” I whisper. I don’t mean to say it. I wanted to ask her how she was doing. I wanted to push my feelings aside. Take her in my arms. Soothe her. Tell her everything was going to be okay. But I couldn’t.
“Alex,” she sighs. She tries to wedge out of my grasp, but I hold on.
“Stella, please. I miss you. God, I miss you so much. I miss what we did. I miss how we hung out and went on picnics and talked. I miss holding you in my arms and breathing in the warm vanilla scent you always have.”
This time she breaks out of my grip. “I-I-I can’t do this, Alex. I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m with Thomas.”
And I stop. Stop begging. Stop pleading. Stop trying for something that’s just not going to work in my favor.
She doesn’t tell me specifics, and I’m thankful for that. She doesn’t tell me anything. The second those words leave her mouth, she leaves, and I’m left sitting there. Contemplating what I did wrong.