Chapter 10.

…

Behind the screens, Danielle felt her pulse rate pick up to an impossibly fast speed. As if she could sense her racing pulse, Joanne pulled her close and gave her a comforting squeeze by putting an arm around her this time, as did Charlotte. Danielle was actually shaking, and she almost cringed away in surprise when she felt a soft, warm pressure against her cheek. However, she was able to relax a tiny bit when she realised Charlotte had just kissed her cheek.

Danielle knew what was coming; somewhere deep down in the pit of her riotously clenching stomach, she knew that it would not be good news. Then came the words Danielle had been dreading.

"No, Your Honour," James informed the court, and Danielle could hear his anger quivering in his low, emotion-roughened voice. "We are still hung, eleven to one. Mrs. Duckworth still does not agree, and she refuses to look at the exhibits and other evidence we were supposed to examine."

"Fuck," Danielle squeaked, trying desperately to hold on to her composure. The walls were closing in - she could feel the pressure surrounding her increase as the lid of an invisible box slammed down to trap her, and the air suddenly seemed too thick and caustic to breathe. She was about to have a panic attack. "Fuck…"

"Very well," Spinner said quietly after a long moment of pensive silence during which Danielle felt like she was suffocating. "Everyone, please remain where you are. I have to make one phone call for further instructions. It will not take me long. Mr. Dawson, you are to remain in the dock in the meantime, and the jury is not yet dismissed."

…

It felt like ages before Spinner returned, banging her gavel against her bench to order silence. Tasting bile rising up from her throat upon her tongue, Danielle thought she was about to be sick. After days of giving evidence, waiting, this was it… Charlotte tightened her arm around Danielle, as did Joanne. Goodwin softly tapped his table, telling Danielle that he was right there with them. "I think I'm going to be sick," Danielle just managed to whisper. "Oh Jesus I…"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Spinner began. "I called the District Attorney for the State of Illinois to request a retrial as this trial resulted in a hung jury." Danielle was sure she heard her Honour take a breath. "It will take several weeks if not months for the D.A. to review the evidence and decide whether or not to move forward with a second prosecution in this case."

There was total silence, before she spoke again. "Assuming that he can post a secured bond of $200,000.00, Mr. Dawson is to be released without further action pending the D.A.'s determination regarding a re-trial. However, Mr. Dawson, you will have strict conditions placed upon you, and the circumstances and events of this trial will be released to the media, along with the jury's eleven to one position. Additionally, it will be made freely available to any future women with whom you try to start a relationship, casual or otherwise. Based upon the evidence presented in this courtroom and your own testimony, I believe that you are a very dangerous man, and the police and I shall be watching you, Mr. Dawson - very, very carefully - and we shall not hesitate to take action if required. I am issuing an Order of Protection sua sponte, prohibiting you from being within 500 yards of Danielle Hayward or Charlotte Avery. If you violate this Order, you will be arrested on the spot, and the full amount of your bond as well as your freedom will be forfeited to the State."

Danielle suddenly felt very strange. Had someone just pressed a concealed button? It felt as if the ground was tilting up, like she was going uphill on a treadmill. "Danielle!" She heard Charlotte's voice say as the ground rushed up to meet her. Then, nothing. She had no awareness whatsoever of the judge's next words.

Taking a deep breath and trying to think quickly about what was appropriate in this situation, Judge Spinner changed the subject and turned to face the jurors where they still stood in the box. "I am extremely disappointed in this jury and their inability to reach a unanimous verdict, and especially in Mrs. Duckworth for having lied under oath about her ability to render an impartial judgment during Voir Dire and when she was sworn in to serve. As a result of this, Mrs. Ellen Duckworth, you are hereby charged with perjury and contempt of court, for which I sentence you to 90 days incarceration, all but thirty to be suspended pending good behaviour. Bailiffs, please take Mrs. Duckworth into custody and transport her immediately to County Jail to be processed and begin serving her sentence. Mr. Dawson is to be released immediately upon making the Bond. Please escort him to the Clerk's Office for this purpose."

…

Hannah Spinner was fuming. Absolutely fuming. As the dock was unlocked, Adam Dawson started to whistle. She wanted to punch him. She took a deep breath. She had to stay professional, but she hated the little worm. She saw Charlotte Avery was in tears, then two medics running towards the safety screens set up to protect that bastard's poor victim. Her heart broke. Danielle Hayward had clearly collapsed, and she could not help feeling like it was partly her fault. After all, she had presided over the trial that failed to give the young woman justice, and she had failed to detect Ellen Duckworth's bias in time. She was sincerely thankful that at least Adam had not and could not see the evidence of Danielle's collapse. She saw Goodwin and Roland shake hands, exchanging bitter smiles. It was clear to Spinner that they were united in this. Obviously, they did not want Adam released either.

Adam had just strolled to the doors, smoothing his tie and suit jacket, one of the bailiffs walking right behind him to guide him to the Clerk's Office where he could call for a Bond. The very way he walked was infuriating, that casual confidence that clearly broadcast just how invincible, just how superior the disgusting fiend believed himself to be. Spinner wanted to lock him up so badly and to throw away the key. At least there had been someone who she could apprehend today. One guilty person might be leaving the courthouse a free person, but the second was not so fortunate. However, the more she thought about it, the more insufficient her initial sentence seemed, although she never had been compelled by the circumstances in her courtroom to assign a greater penalty. She could not even recall what the maximum sentence was for perjury and contempt of court off the top of her head. With a sigh, she stalked down the hallway to her chambers. She had work to do, and very little time in which to get it done.

…

Rage. Cold, black rage. That was all The Shape felt as he watched Adam's release then Danielle collapse upon the television screen. He wanted to help her more than anything. His hand clenched as if it was curling tightly around the wooden handle of his beloved knife, and he could imagine how it would feel to sink that long, sharp blade into a vulnerable body, the satisfying give of the penetrated flesh and the sudden wet heat coating his hand, spurting out onto him, dripping down his arm. Now, Adam Dawson and Ellen Duckworth's names were both recorded on a metaphorical notepad that he kept inside his head. He only dimly felt Loomis's gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Easy," Loomis murmured to him. "Easy, Michael. I understand, believe me I do, but they're nowhere near here right now. Keep it under control for me, please? No one innocent needs to die, ok?"

For a brief second, The Shape wanted to turn and wrap his hands around the doctor's neck. The urge to kill, the need to destroy a living being, was almost as strong as he had ever felt it. Even so, just about managed to hold on to it. Two guards entered, moving quickly to stand at either side of him, as if drawn by some inaudible alarm or by the sense of prey that a predator is on the verge of pouncing - Ryan and Jack, the Shape saw. But neither made any move to touch or escort him from the room.

…

"Danielle! Danielle, can you hear me?" The voice seemed to be coming from down a very long tunnel. Danielle slowly opened her eyes. Fuck, her head hurt so badly. "Danielle?" She knew that voice; it was Charlotte. It was then she felt her hand being carefully picked up and softly held. "It's me," her best friend's voice tinkled faintly in her ear as if from a great distance away. "I'm here, D, I'm here. It's alright now."

Danielle opened her mouth, trying to speak, but her throat was too dry for any words to form. Instantly, a cool glass of water was gently pushed into her hand then guided up to her lips.

"Shh," said a voice that Danielle did not recognise, and the unfamiliarity of it might have startled her were it not so warm and full of compassion. "Danielle, I'm Hayley, one of the court medics. You're alright, sweetie - you just passed out. Hardly surprising, I might add; you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Do you hear me?"

"Exactly!" Charlotte almost barked.

"How are you feeling now, sweetheart?" Hayley inquired, and Danielle realised that it was this new woman's hand that had supported her own, helping her to drink.

"Like shit," Danielle muttered in reply. She put a hand up to her head, feeling her head camera. "Is…"

"Now don't you worry about that, Danielle," Dr Stark's voice said immediately from the previously muted speaker on the front of the camera. "It's working just fine; we can see you perfectly well. We're still watching you for obvious reasons."

As if she had seen and interpreted the sudden opening of Danielle's mouth, the psychiatrist interjected, "Now, don't you dare even try to apologise or move until Hayley there says you can. That will make all three of us very unhappy. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Dr Stark," Danielle said quietly.

Charlotte and Hayley smiled at each other, deeply relieved by Danielle's willing acquiescence to the doctor's words.

"Where's Joanne?" Danielle croaked.

"I'm here, my girl," her guard said, touching her shoulder. "Right here."

Finally, as if that light, kind touch had broken an overloaded dam within her, Danielle started to cry. Immediately, Charlotte, Joanne and Hayley all knelt at her sides, putting their arms around her. "Shh," they said together.

"He'll die before he hurts you again, Danielle," Charlotte growled protectively, and Danielle could almost sense the look of understanding which must have passed between her friend and guard. "Isn't that the truth!" she thought, feeling the corners of her mouth turn up into a hint of a smile at the knowledge of how well-protected she was.

Danielle felt her eyes closing again as Charlotte continued to hold her hand. Hayley stood. "I'll be back in half an hour," she whispered to Charlotte, Joanne and the live head camera, before quietly leaving the medical room.

…

Judge Hannah Spinner entered her chambers, nodding distractedly to the police officer who was already there waiting for her arrival, pleased by his prompt arrival in response to her hasty summons. Hannah was well known around the courthouse for working quickly and efficiently, and the officer's presence was proof thereof.

"Your Honour," he respectfully greeted her, wondering why he had been called to her chambers and what could have caused the ordinarily even-tempered, nearly-unflappable judge to look so furious.

She only smiled grimly back at him then entered her office, immediately grabbing two thick, leather bound volumes from her bookshelf and booting up her computer before taking a seat behind her desk. A few minutes later, after some hurried legal research in the Illinois Code of Criminal Procedure, the Court Rules for the district, and online using Westlaw to ensure that there would be no grounds for the appellate court to overturn her decision should it be appealed, followed by a phone call, there came a knock on the door. When it opened, the figure of Ellen Duckworth was revealed hesitating in the doorway, her eyes wide and wet with tears and her arm held in the firm grip of the bailiff who was scowling down at the obviously flustered woman.

"You asked for me, Your Honour?" Duckworth asked, looking nervously between the Judge and the police officer.

"Indeed I did," Spinner replied coldly. "Please take a seat Mrs. Duckworth."

Ellen felt her nerves mounting almost to the point of overwhelming her completely. Something told her she was in very serious trouble - even more so than she initially had thought when Judge Spinner had ordered her to spend a month in County Lockup at the conclusion of the trial. Obeying the Judge, she cautiously sat upon the edge of one of the leather-upholstered armchairs across from an intimidatingly large desk.

"Mrs. Duckworth, I'm afraid that your behaviour leaves me no choice. You are seriously perverting the course of justice by having perjured yourself during Voir Dire and you are in contempt of court. Your decision not to convict had absolutely nothing to do with the evidence before you, and you even told your fellow Jurors as much. Your failure to inform us of this conflict at the beginning of the case as you were required to do during Voir Dire and again when you were sworn in as a juror has cost the State over one hundred-thousand dollars and the victims more than you could ever know or understand; you have just released an evil abuser of vulnerable women back into the general public, of this I have no doubt. Frankly, Mrs. Duckworth, I am disgusted by you. Your actions are abhorrent and despicable, and I can't allow you to get off with little more than a slap upon the wrist, as a month in County Jail would be."

Ellen's heart sank hearing those words. A month in jail seemed far too steep for standing up for her convictions! Admittedly, she had not paid much attention to the evidence in the Dawson trial because all she could think about was her poor, wrongfully-convicted son, but she was confident that the women who testified against him had been the real perjurers. Not her! This was so unfair and awful that words could not describe, and hot tears began spilling down her pale cheeks.

Unperturbed and even slightly pleased by the former juror's tears, Judge Spinner continued, "As I never had encountered such a blatant dereliction of duty by any juror in all my years upon the bench, upon leaving the courtroom, I had to conduct some legal research regarding the statutory maximum sentence I could impose upon you. By the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I sentence you to eight years in prison for the aforementioned offences, of which you must serve five years before you are even eligible for parole."

The police officer, who felt almost as disgusted by Duckworth as the judge herself despite not knowing any more about the case and the woman's rôle therein than what he just heard, stepped forward and intoned gravely, "Ellen Duckworth, you are under arrest for perjury and being in contempt of court, thereby having perverted the course of justice. You have the right to remain silent, and anything you do/say may be used in court against you …" As he read her the Miranda warnings, he pulled her arms behind her back none too gently and clicked thick steel handcuffs around her shaking wrists.

"Your Honour," Duckworth began to plead. "Please, I…"

Not wanting to hear any more from that sanctimonious idiot, Spinner left the office, not even looking back.

…

"How are you now Danielle?" Hayley asked upon returning to Medical a half-hour later. Danielle's eyes had fluttered open again mere minutes before her arrival.

"I think I'm in shock," Danielle admitted. "Fuck knows why, though, as I was expecting this."

"Stop thinking you're weak, you," Charlotte interjected firmly, scared again for her friend who had come so close to dying, and to whom justice had just been denied by some idiot woman who did not belong on a jury. "You may have been expecting this, but it doesn't stop the shock from shaking you when it strikes."

"That's exactly right, Charlotte," Joanne added; and Hayley said, "Well said," at exactly the same time.

"Do you think you're ready to slowly get up now?" The medic asked, and Danielle nodded somewhat shakily in reply.

"Steady," Hayley said as she rose to her feet. "Let us help you, Danielle. Humour me here, please."

Charlotte and Joanne took hold of Danielle's forearms, gently supporting her into a standing position.

"How's that?" Hayley asked, and Danielle could hear the genuine concern in her voice. "Any dizziness?"

"Only briefly," Danielle replied with a small smile. "I think I can walk now."

"Oh no you don't," Hayley said firmly. "Not yet. You're drinking this water first young lady."

Joanne and Charlotte shared a glance and a smile at how solicitous Hayley was with their stubborn friend and at how effective it was proving to be.

"Yes, Mom," Danielle said with a sarcastic smirk before taking the glass, squeezing the medic's hand as she did so.

"Good girl."

A few minutes later, the medic cleared Danielle to leave.

"Slowly does it," Joanne said as she and Charlotte escorted her out.

"Please let me say this just once?" Danielle begged. "I feel really ashamed of myself. Expected result or not, I went to pieces. I collapsed. I feel so weak."

"Then let me say this just once," Charlotte retorted. "The man you've just seen released would've left you to die in his fucking garage; he raped, controlled, assaulted, and belittled you. He basically treated you like shit! You have nothing, I said NOTHING, to be ashamed of, Danielle Hayward! Got it? Ok, you've said it, now don't you dare ever let me hear you say you're weak, ever again!"

"Me neither," Joanne said firmly. As it was two against one, Danielle shut her mouth.

They reached the foyer and Danielle heard someone whistling. Her insides turned to ice. She did not have to see him or hear him speaking to know it was Adam standing somewhere in the room. Joanne tightened her arm around Danielle, as did Charlotte. There were a few small things in life that filled Danielle with joy, and one thing in particular that she loved was the sound of someone whistling. In fact, silly though it seemed to some of her family and acquaintances, it was her favourite sound. Adam could whistle remarkably well, sounding almost like Bing Crosby, but he never did it for her pleasure. Maybe if she had been more obedient and done whatever he wanted. including sex and food for a week, he would whistle for a second, but that was all. Danielle knew when he saw them, because he stopped whistling abruptly, just proving her point in her mind. There was absolutely nothing that he would do, no matter how simple it might be, to make her happy. She had to fight back the tears of hatred which rushed to her eyes.

Danielle was slapped out of her bitter thoughts about the man who she mistakenly had thought loved her by a loud, barking voice right beside her, and she jumped in alarm.

"Mr. Dawson, stand back! This is your one and only warning! I am armed!"

Although she recognised the voice, Danielle had never heard Joanne speak like that before, and if she had not heard it with her own ears, she was not sure she would have believed sweet, considerate, warm, and caring Joanne was capable of sounding so authoritarian and strong. She felt herself shiver, but not with fear this time. Joanne Turner was one tough guard, and she was damn good at her job - a job which included protecting her.

"Don't make me ask you again. Move!" Joanne harshly snapped, her free hand resting upon her baton, less than an inch from the butt of her handgun.

Charlotte grinned, holding Danielle tighter. "Told you you are safe with her," she breathed.

"It's a free country, bitch," Dawson sneered back, leaning casually against the doorway and trying to look completely unfazed by the guard's belligerent tone and stance, intentionally blocking their exit. "I'm a free man now. I can do as I wish."

"You are blocking our exit," Joanne snarled between clenched teeth. That man absolutely enraged her! "This is your last warning, Dawson. Move. You have five seconds. I will not hesitate to use force if necessary. Five …"

"Whoa," Danielle exhaled to Charlotte, her soft utterance picked up by Joanne's radio. "Damn, she's good. I wouldn't want to be on her wrong side, that's for sure!"

"Didn't I tell you she'd protect you when you first came here," Stark's voice replied through the audio equipment. "I meant it."

Danielle had never been so close to Joanne when full guard-mode was activated in response to danger threatening her before, at least not like this. It made her feel strangely loved, even safe.

"Three …" Joanne stated coldly, continuing the countdown. Charlotte pulled Danielle closer. "Two…"

"Fuck off, cunt," Adam spat. "Do your worst!"

"Whoops," Charlotte murmured, unable to resist smirking teasingly at her vile ex-boyfriend. "You might regret that…"

Joanne had drawn her gun before Charlotte even saw it. The sharp report of the gun firing and the fleshy thwack of a rubber bullet striking its target made Danielle wince. Charlotte squeezed her friend even closer. "It's alright," she murmured. "She shot him to the shoulder."

Adam yelled in pain, clutching his bleeding shoulder. "YOU FUCKING BITCH," he bellowed in a black rage tinged with shock and pain as other guards ran over.

"He wouldn't move out of our way. Better get him a medic," Joanne stated dispassionately before running back over to Danielle and Charlotte.

"Very well done, Joanne," Loomis said over her radio's speaker, just as Judge Spinner appeared at the entrance to the foyer.

The judge was skilled enough to school her face to remain as impassive as a mask, but inside she was crowing in triumph at the tableau that had unfolded before her. Adam's shoulder was pouring blood. Two medics came over and started their work, bandaging the wound before two courthouse guards arrived and practically frog marched him out of the court.

"Nice," Charlotte said admiringly. "But that was kind of scary."

Joanne smiled at her then hugged her. Charlotte grinned, hugging her back. "Damn you're tough," she said. "I respect you guys so much." Joanne smiled at the sincere compliment, then she hugged Danielle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said softly. "Are you alright? I had to do that."

"I know," Danielle replied softly. "Thanks, Joanne; that made me feel… Well, so safe."

"Danielle?" said a slightly familiar voice from close beside her. "It's Julie Griggs. Are you alright now?"

"Yes, thanks," Danielle said, her voice still shaking, but only a little now.

To Danielle's shock and gratitude, Julie herself guided her out of the courthouse and towards the secured underground garage where the official Smith's Grove car waited for them. After profusely thanking Julie, Danielle, Charlotte and Joanne got into the vehicle to drive back.

…

Adam was sore. His body was deeply bruised by the rubber bullet that unfeminine, wannabe-man bitch of a guard watching over Danielle had fired at him in the courthouse atrium. Worse, though, was the bruise to his ego. How dare the judge say such things about him in court? It was his right as a MAN to treat his women however he pleased, and that insufferable up-jumped public servant had no business publicising the insipid complaints of his damaged, mentally ill, blind cow of an ex. "Women shouldn't even BE judges," he thought savagely. "They don't have the balls for the job."

Balls or not, though, Judge Hannah Spinner had done a number on him. Fortunately, he still had access to what remained of Danielle's depleted bank account as well as Charlotte's money. Even so, coming up with $20,000.00 in cash, ten percent of the exorbitant $200,000.00 bond that cunt of a judge had ordered, just so he would not have to spend one more night in jail pending the D.A.'s decision whether or not to move forward with a second trial, was immensely galling. At least he would get the money back as long as he abided by the bitch-ordered terms of the bond, but he had plans for that money, plans he had not wanted to put off for weeks if not months while the State prosecutors twiddled their thumbs regarding his re-trial.

The possible damage to his reputation bothered him even more than having so much of his money tied up with the bail bondsman. There was no reason, no reason at all for the judge to release the specific details of the trial to the Press. It was clear to him Judge Spinner just did not like him. It probably frightened her that he knew she was inferior by virtue of her sex. That had to be the reason for her harshness. At the thought of a judge being afraid of him, his cock faintly twitched inside his pants.

Although he felt no actual desire at the moment, Charlotte was getting fucked tonight. It was his due, and he owed her a good, thorough fucking after she dared to try to fuck him over in court. She would cook him his favourite meal and then… he would show her that her place was beneath him in every sense of the word. It was a lesson he greatly looked forward to teaching her.

While in the taxi riding home from the Emergency Room, he had sent her a text which read, "YOU'D BETTER BE READY WHEN I GET THERE!" He meant it, too. She knew who she belonged to, and may God help her if she failed to listen and obey. He was furious with her for daring to attend court, although he had not seen her in the courtroom following the judge's call to the jury for final deliberation. He might, yes might, forgive her, but only if she did exactly as he said. He was generous, even forgiving, not an abusive monster as they had tried to make him out to be in court. Women were out to get him, it seemed to Adam, just because he knew their rightful respective positions compared to men, and because he demanded obedience. And, if Charlotte remembered her place and treated him with the respect he was due by virtue of being a man, he would be magnanimous. He would not be as harsh with her as he otherwise would have been.

Upon opening the front door and entering the foyer, he dropped his suit jacket to the floor. Fuck it; it did not matter where he put it as both the jacket and his suit trousers needed a thorough dry-cleaning, anyway, and God help them if they failed to properly clean and press it. More than anything, though, he needed a shower. The stale-sweat stench of that fucking cell was all over him, permeating his clothes, his hair, and even his skin. Stepping past the small foyer, he entered into total darkness. "Stupid bitch left the lights off," Adam thought, his lips curled into a disdainful sneer.

After flicking the light switches, he slammed and locked the door from the inside with his key, something he always did. His bitch was going nowhere tonight because she did not have a key to any of the doors. Of course he had a spare, but if she needed it, there were very strict rules for its use. It was only if he was out and she was to hand it back to him as soon as he got back. If she arrived home before he did, she had to return it to a box on the side table, and as soon as he returned he would check to make sure it was there where it belonged. If he discovered it was not in the box, there would be big trouble for her.

"Bitch?" He yelled as he walked up the hall. No answer. Adam frowned. How dare she not answer his call? How dare she disobey him?! "Hey, bitch!" he yelled again. Still no reply. He could feel himself getting angry now. Oh, she would pay for this! "Get in here now!" he bellowed. Again, only silence greeted him.

Beyond furious now, Adam strode into the den. Once again, all the lights were off. Flicking the switches, he saw everything was meticulously clean and organised, just as he had left it. Not a thing was out of place. But that did not soften his anger towards Charlotte. As soon as he called her, she was to be there, time of day or her condition be damned. But she still was not answering him. When he walked into the kitchen, it was the same thing. He had only allowed her to move some of her belongings into his home, only the bare necessities she could not live without, and the rest were in storage. He did not want her clogging up his space with her useless possessions, after all. Finally, his fury causing his injured shoulder to throb painfully in time with his heartbeat, he stalked upstairs to the bedroom. It did not matter that he was in pain or that he felt no actual desire for his woman. He was going to fuck that bitch right now. She needed to be taught a lesson. Just as he was walking into the bedroom, he stopped short in the doorway, his eyes narrowing in rage.

Every single thing of hers was gone. It would have taken no more than a few boxes to move because he had not allowed her to bring much over, but nevertheless it was a shock to see everything gone. He opened his wardrobe. None of her clothes were there. The drawer he so generously had given her to use, which he carefully checked every day, of course, making sure she had nothing she should not have, was empty. He strode downstairs and back into the kitchen. As he carefully and thoroughly inspected his home, he discovered that nothing of Charlotte's remained in the whole house.

Now, he was angry. Truly, profoundly angry. Angry enough to kill, even… maybe. Adam could feel his body practically vibrating with the pure, caustic rage flowing like acid through his veins. But there was no concern at all for Charlotte in him. All that he cared about was how her absence affected him. Where the fuck was his cunt? How dare she move out without asking him for permission? He had not granted her permission to leave, much less to move. His mounting rage blinding him to consequences, he left his house, getting into his car and driving down the night-darkened streets. The hunt was on. He would find her, if it was the last thing he did.