My attorney grabs a file off the desk and hands it over to the jury, then he offers a copy to Kendall. “This is a photo of you leaving a gas station with an unidentified man two hours after your sexual intercourse with Mr. Campbell. Who is this man, Ms. Johnson?”
“That’s my friend David. I called him after it happened. I didn’t know who to turn to or what to do.”
“Gas station shows a record of you buying condoms with this man. Is it possible that you were having an affair with David? Is it possible the man in the photo was the one who hurt you, but you’re blaming my client because he has money? Isn’t that true, Ms. Johnson!”
“Objection. Badgering the witness, Your Honor.”
“Sustained. Mr. Alkroy, please rephrase your question without attacking the witness,” Judge Parcel says, a strong older woman with a backbone for no bullshit. I know I'm going to be found guilty. A woman judge, mostly women on the jury, and more evidence to convict me than Charles fucking Manson.
“Of course. Apologies, Your Honor. Ms. Johnson, are you accusing the wrong man of rape for his money?”
“No, I would never do that. I do expect a settlement fee, though.”
That has my lawyer cocking his head and laughing. “A settlement? You realize all of this could have been avoided if you wanted to settle. A nice chunk of change for all that debt you’re in sounds nice, doesn’t it.”
“Second warning, Mr. Alkroy,” the judge side-eyes my lawyer.
“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “I believe this woman is hiding something, men and women of the jury. Is it a coincidence that after three years of dating, she’s just now coming forward with this allegation and after a slew of debt racking up in the last six months. Not to mention, your friend in that photo can’t be found, and he has a record longer than the equator.” He turns toward the judge and grins. “No further questions, Your Honor.”
“Where the hell did that come from?” I ask him in a low hush as he sits.
“They don’t pay me the big bucks for nothing, but it’s still going to be hard to beat. Your odds are stacked against you here.”
“I know. I appreciate you trying.”
“If it makes a difference, I think she’s lying out of her teeth. Any good lawyer would see that,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder.
After today, my faith in the criminal justice system will die. How can I place my fate in the hands of people who found me guilty the minute I stepped through the doors?
An hour later, my fate is decided.
“We the jury find the defendant guilty of rape and assault.”
Guilty.
“Fuck,” my attorney curses.
I’m not surprised. “Alkroy, don’t let that bitch get a dime of my money, okay? Not one fucking dime. I don’t care how hard she tries.”
“I won’t give up on this. I’ll keep digging for anything to clear your name, Grayson.”
“It won’t matter.” I stand as the deputy walks toward me. I put my hands behind my back before he can ask, and he slaps the cuffs on me.
“I sentence you to eight-years in federal prison. No chance of parole. You shouldn’t have ever come into my court room, Grayson Campbell. If there is one thing I do not take kindly to, it’s a rapist.” She slams the gavel down, and the deputy pushes me toward the door where the holding cells are.
I pass Kendall, and we lock eyes. “Karma is a bitch, Kendall. Just like you,” I sneer.
“Shut up. Keep walking.” The deputy shoves me toward the door, and my shoulder slams against it, the momentum causing it to open.
I don’t know what the hell the next eight years has in store for me, but I’ll never trust a woman again. If someone I loved for three years can turn their back on me so easily, then so can anyone else. I’m better off alone. The only person I can trust is myself.
The only person who always knows the truth, is me.
Fuck there being three sides to every story.
There’s my side and Kendall’s side.
The truth always seems to get buried by lies. No matter how deep, the truth will rise to the surface, and the liar will get punished.
Eight years and counting.
Revenge will be mine, and karma will be a bitch.
Chapter One
GRAYSON
Present Day
I glance toward my closed bedroom door and make sure no one is coming down the hall. The Cliff House has grown over the last year when it comes to how many people are in it and there always seems to be someone wandering the halls.
No one would ever enter my room anyway, but I’m paranoid. I’m afraid Quinn or Gabriella will knock on my door, and I’ll lose the nerve to do what I’ve been trying to do for weeks now.
Build a dating profile.
I don’t want to date, date. I’m not trying to go out on the town with someone and build a huge future or anything. I don’t believe in futures anymore, not after what Kendall did.
No, that’s lie.
I don’t want to believe in a future anymore, but after Quinn and Jaxon found one another and then Sebastian and Gabriella, it’s hard not to believe in fate when it’s been thrown all around me lately.
Jaxon went to prison for killing his sister, something he didn’t do, and then ten years later he crashed Quinn’s wedding to stop her from marrying the real killer. Then, Gabriella had been in love with Sebastian for years, but his brother set him up, and Sebastian went to prison. Years later, Sebastian tried to find her, but Gabriella had been under lock and key with Sebastian’s brother.
He tortured her. He abused her for years. Just the thought has me wishing the man would come back to life so I could kill him, but Gabriella had that honor by strangling him with the whip he always used on her.
How the hell can I not believe in love or want it for myself if the people around me can find each other out of the most challenging pasts? It’s just me, Heaven, and Owen now. Heaven fucks anything that moves, and Owen is a loner by nature.
I’m only a loner because I’m too nervous to trust anyone again.
Quinn is pregnant, and seeing Jaxon rub her belly, talking to it, kissing it, laying his head on her lap so he can place his ear against it, makes me realize I want that. I don’t know how to have it. I’m fucking broken. Kendall put me through the ringer, and I don’t know how to get past the pain she caused.
She ruined my life.
Sure, I have the guys and more money than I can imagine now that we do heists. We haven’t been on a job recently since Jaxon and Heaven are healing from the explosion that nearly killed us last time. My side is okay. It still twinges, but I guess that’s what happens when a metal bar impales you.
My trust fund is gone. When my lawyer said Kendall was going after everything, I made him donate all of it to a domestic abuse charity. I had no money when I came to Jaxon’s door after deciphering a code in the paper. He was looking for a few guys, and I guess only certain people can dissect code.
After a few heists, I had more money than I ever had in my life. We would never have to plan another heist. Not if we didn’t want to. We had enough money for us, our kids, and our kid’s kids.