The smoke tendrils curled like vines as my lips parted to exhale. The taste of the smoldering tobacco played lazily on my tongue as I went to take another drag. I'd have to go back in soon; Rosaline couldn't be in there alone. Not when he would be taking the stand. She wouldn't be able to control herself once he opened his mouth and the lies and bull spewed forth like a waterfall of putrid shit.
I hated him, hated him for what he did to my family. Hated him for what he did to me. Gasping, I brought my left hand up to wipe away the oncoming tears with the heel of my palm. Fuck him; let the devil fuck him sideways and in every way for what he did to us.
Taking one last drag from my cigarette, I tossed it into the corner of the alley. Watching as the burning tip disappeared into the shadows. Turning my eyes landed on a rusted dumpster. Making my way over I knelt down, flinching as I put some of weight on my right arm which darned a black cast. His men broke my humerus and practically all the fingers on my right hand. It had been longer than two months. I had to undergo surgery because the bone was sticking out or my arm.
Reaching my good arm behind the dumpster, my fingers brushed up against a plastic bag. Grabbing it, I pulled it out. Inside the bag was a wooden box. Before I went any further, I looked up and down the alley. No one to see so far it was only me. Looking to the box, I opened it to reveal a 2.5 inch barreled- .357 magnum. Wasn't much, but it would do the job. I'd be sitting at the front, couldn't miss.
I loaded the gun. Once I had completed the task, I kicked the box under the dumpster and hid the gun in the folds of my jacket. Jerry, the Court security guard wouldn't bother to check me. For the past couple of days I had been leaving in the middle of the trial for a smoke, the first few times he had checked me. But now it all seemed repetitive. Slowly, I got to my feet and made for the door, which I had propped open.
In my head, a little voice was telling me to stay outside to not go back in that room. God as my witness, I had no desire to commit murder. But in my gut, I knew that if I didn't he would walk. He would come for us; there wasn't a single doubt in my mind. Rosaline didn't deserve that, she hadn't deserved any of this. Though she was older than me, we both knew that I was the stronger one. Losing me would hurt her, but that sick fat greasy bastard touching her again, would kill her.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. Another minute; just another minute to compose myself before go back among the lions. The cool brick of the building holds me as I press my forehead against. It'll all be over soon, the devil take me before I let that sick fuck walk.
Looking toward my watch my eyes widened, he would have already taken the stands. Throwing the door open, I went in. Jerry nodded to me as I passed, didn't even attempt to call me back for pleasantries. Making it to the double doors, I slipped inside. All the while, reciting a prayer to God even though I no longer believed in his existence.
Yakavetta had already taken his place, and was giving his account. Denying everything, and thinking he would get away with it. That fuck had another thing coming. His eyes flashed to meet mine as I took my place next to Rosaline.
When a stranger would look at my sister and I. The last thing they would expect was that we were related. I had taken after my father in looks and my mother in temperament. Linn was the exact opposite. Her curly long red hair and clear ocean blue eyes rivaled my straight black hair and murky swamp green eyes. While she was quiet and polite, I was loud and slightly obnoxious. Yet, despite our differences, we thick as thieves my sister and I. At least, we used to be. There was a time when we told each other everything. But after Linn was raped by Yakavetta, she kept to herself and we were only close physically; clutching one another for support in these terrible times.
Yakavetta had wronged us in three ways. But the public only knew of the two. Rosaline refused to tell anyone else and it would seem that Yakavetta didn't have anything against her decision. So far, the evidence pointed to a few of his men who committed the murder of my father and the beating of yours truly. Of course, he wasn't on trial for the murder of one man, so far he was here for the murder of at least 17, my father among them.