Rage. Cold, black rage. That was all The Shape felt as he watched Adam's release, then Danielle collapsed. 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. He could imagine how it would feel to sink that long, sharp blade into a vulnerable body, the satisfying give of the penetrated flesh, the sudden wet heat coating his hand, spurting out onto him, and 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 barely felt Dr Loomis' gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Easy," Dr 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, he just about managed to hold on to it. 2 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 pushed into her hand then guided up to her lips.

"Hush," 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 exclaimed.

"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 drink the water.

"Like shit," Danielle muttered. She put a hand up, feeling for the camera. "Is…"

"Now don't you worry about that, Danielle," Dr Stark's voice said immediately from the speaker on 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 3 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 willingness to acquiescence to the doctor.

"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 side, putting their arms around her. "Hush," 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 knowing 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 those on the other side of the 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 of that.

"Your Honora," 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 smiled grimly back at him as she entered her office, immediately grabbing 2 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 Honora?" Duckworth asked, looking nervously between the Judge and the police officer.

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

Ellen's nerves were mounting almost to the point of overwhelming her completely. Something told her that 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 on 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 of interest at the beginning of the case, that you were required to do during Voir Dire and again when you were sworn in as a juror has cost the State over $100,000, and cost 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 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 on the bench, upon leaving the courtroom, I conducted some legal research regarding the statutory maximum sentence that I could impose on you. By the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I sentence you to 8 years in prison for the aforementioned offenses, of which you must serve 5 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 role 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 Rights, he pulled her arms behind her back and clicked thick steel handcuffs around her shaking wrists.

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

Not wanting to hear any more from that sanctimonious idiot, Judge 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 a few minutes before she walked in.

"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 in the 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 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, 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.

"Good girl."

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

"Easy 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 that was just released would've left you to die in his fucking garage; he raped, controlled, assaulted, and belittled you. He treated you like shit! You have nothing, 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 2 against 1, Danielle shut her mouth.

They reached the foyer and Danielle heard someone whistling. Her insides turned to ice. She did not have to see, or hear him speaking to know that it was Adam standing somewhere in the room. Joanne and Charlotte both tightened her arms around Danielle. 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. Even though her friends and family thought it was silly, it was still 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 Adam saw them, because he stopped whistling abruptly, just to prove her point. 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 wasn't sure that she would have believed the 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 lady, 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 on her baton, less than an inch from the butt of her handgun.

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

"It's a free country, bitch," Dawson sneered, leaning casually against the doorway, looking completely unfazed by the guard's belligerent tone, and 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. This man absolutely enraged her! "This is your last warning, Dawson. Move. You have 5 seconds. I will not hesitate to use force if necessary. 5 …"

"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?" Dr Stark's voice said through the audio equipment. "I meant it."

"4…" Danielle had never been close to Joanne while in full guard-mode, responding to danger that was threatening her before, at least not like this. It made her feel strangely loved, even safe.

"3…" Joanne stated coldly, continuing the countdown. Charlotte pulled Danielle closer. "2…"

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

"Whoops," Charlotte murmured, unable to resist smirking 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 closer. "It's alright," she murmured. "She shot him in the shoulder."

Adam yelled in pain, clutching his bleeding shoulder. "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" he bellowed in 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," Dr Loomis said over her radio's speaker, just as Judge Spinner appeared at the entrance of the foyer.

The Judge schooled her face, but inside she was crowing in triumph at the screen that had played out in front of her. Adam's shoulder was gushing blood. 2 medics came over and started bandaging the wound before 2 courthouse guards arrived and practically dragged him out of the courthouse.

"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'm sorry that I had to do that."

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

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

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

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 thanking Julie, Danielle, Charlotte and Joanne profusely, they got into the vehicle to drive back.

Adam was sore. His shoulder 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 $20000 cash, 10% of the exorbitant $200000 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 on whether or not to move forward with a retrial, 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 retrial.

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 that 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. His cock faintly twitched inside his pants at the thought of a Judge being afraid of him. 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 HOME!" 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, 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 on 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 in a disdainful sneer.

After flicking the light switches, he slammed and locked the door, 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 had 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 where it belonged. If he discovered it was not in the box, there would be trouble for her.