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Chapter Fourteen
Nick
I sat in my jail cell, wondering just how it was that a judge found it necessary to deny a bond hearing, claim me as a flight risk, and a modern-day terrorist on my native soil. My service to the nation was apparently all for naught, and my release from incarceration was dependent on the false testimony of a girl I didn’t really know.
In club terms, I was fucked.
The sound of keys jingling warned me of a guard’s approach. As the sound got closer and closer, I couldn’t help but wonder if either Peyton decided to testify, or if they found DNA evidence of Whip’s dead brother.
“Navarro! Hands to the door, I need to cuff you for court.”
I had been placed in a maximum security cell, and unlike the majority of other men who were incarcerated in the jail, I wasn’t free to roam. I turned around, backed up to the door, and placed my wrists in front of the hinged opening in the steel door.
Within a few seconds, my hands were cuffed. A few seconds later, and I was fitted with a waist chain and shackles.
I walked in a few steps in front of the guard, well aware of the route we were taking to get to the courtroom. Upon entering the room, however, I was pleasantly surprised to see Peyton, dressed in a black skirt, white shirt, and black blazer.
Her conservative heels topped off the ensemble, but it was her glasses that commanded my attention.
You wore those on purpose, didn’t you?
Almost immediately after being seated beside Tristan Beecham, the club’s attorney, the judge entered the courtroom.
“All rise,” the bailiff said.
Although she was seated twenty feet from me, the smell of Peyton’s shampoo and perfume caused my mouth to water.
The judge sat down.
“You may be seated.”
The judge shuffled through a stack of paperwork, picked up a sheet of paper, and studied it. After a moment, he placed the paper down on his desk and raised his head. “In the matter of the people versus Nicholas Navarro, new testimony has been given which corroborates previous testimony given by the accused, and supports statements regarding the whereabouts of the accused on the night in question. The witness has agreed to testify before me, which I require in any such case.”
“Mrs. Price, will you approach the witness stand?”
Peyton stood. “Yes, Sir.”
She gracefully walked to the witness stand.
“Raise your right hand.”
She did.
“State your name.”
“Peyton Penelope Price.”
“Mrs. Price, do you swear – or affirm – that the testimony you give here today is the truth, the entire truth, and nothing but the truth?”
“I do.”
“Have a seat, please.”
Peyton sat in the witness stand. The judge nodded toward the prosecutor’s bench. “Your witness.”
“Mrs. Price. I haven’t had an opportunity to hear your testimony, but it’s been brought to my attention that you gave testimony today in the presence of two detectives regarding the whereabouts of one Nicholas Navarro on the night in question. Is that correct?”
“I have no idea,” she responded.
