They walked out of the prison and into the biting California sun. Dylan massaged her forehead, disappointed with herself for allowing her guard to be broken down by Shaemus, and in front of Leah, no less. She knew Leah didn't think she was weak, that she had majorly fouled in this area. But now she fully understood that Shaemus was dangerous. Vaguely, Dylan thought to herself that if anything would work to make her cautious, it would be seeing her tough as diamonds Dylan getting knocked down.
Leah was running her hand absentmindedly along the chainlink fence as the walked towards Dylan's Chevelle in the parking lot, making a dull clinking sound as her fingers plucked on the metal. Dylan only barely noticed that they were already at her car. She opened up the car door and hopped in, hissing a little because the seat was warm from the sun. Leah pulled the door shut and they sped out of the parking lot, leaving rubber burn marks as Dylan always did.
As they drove along the coastline and back towards L.A., Leah only stared out towards the ocean. Finally, she made as if to talk and turned around in her seat to face Dylan.
"Why is he so different? Why couldn't you kick his ass like everyone else?"
"Because he knows me better than any other villain ever would. It's not like I still love him and can't curt him, we're both fueled to kill each other by our undying anger. Does that make any sense?"
"Not really sure."
"But anyway, he can predict my moves and knows my personality, it's almost impossible to beat him. I wonder if I ever will."
"I'm sure you will, Dylan," Leah murmured as she ran her fingers over the metal dogtags she always wore around her neck. "I know you will, someday."
"Don't be so sure."
"But when will I ever see him again?"
"Hopefully never, but after another eight years, he'll be released again, so I probably can't promise you'll never see him. And even if you can't see him, he still has contacts, okay? That's how he knew your name. Even if he's stuck in prison, he's got friends that will try and attack you even now. The only thing I know is that they wouldn't kill me, because Shaemus wants to do that himself. Do you get now how complicated these things can be?"
"I guess. But what about the hearing tomorrow?"
"You aren't going."
"But Dylan --"
"You saw what he did to you today! He was cataloguing what you look like, what your personality is like, your weaknesses, your strengths, it's the same thing he did to me! I don't want him to get the upper hand on your life, he's already got pretty good control with mine. So just understand why I don't want you seeing him again, okay? Just trust me on this one."
***
Dylan scratched at the wooden oak whorls on her desk as the judge clunked his gavel against the desk. She felt Shaemus's eyes burning into her side, but she also felt her best friends at her back, supporting her. She knew they were behind her somewhere, watching the hearing quietly from a distance and observing any discrepancies they thought Dylan might miss because of her over passionate emotions.
The judge glared around the courtroom and began to speak. "We are hear today to discuss the case of Shaemus McCollaugh O'Grady, and his lawyer's appeal for a shorter sentence…"
Dylan picked at her nails. She knew that there was a chance Shaemus would get a shorter sentence, but she didn't think he'd get it. After all, why would the jury decide to let a convict from the Irish mob free, who'd already been in prison earlier, but let out out of mysterious causes? It was a no-brainer, they'd deny the appeal and she could breath again.
But then Shaemus's lawyer stood up and began to speak. "The appeal for my client states that the sentence of eight years shall be shortened to two months, with parole available after two weeks."
Dylan felt her mouth drop. What in God's name did they think would happen? An eight year sentence shortened to two months? They were on drugs, she was sure of it, or overly confident. There was a bit of murmuring throughout the courtroom. The judge spoke up again.
"Order! We will present the new pieces of evidence that the defendants think will change the outcome of the case, and then the jurors will deliberate and come back for a second hearing."
Leah was running her hand absentmindedly along the chainlink fence as the walked towards Dylan's Chevelle in the parking lot, making a dull clinking sound as her fingers plucked on the metal. Dylan only barely noticed that they were already at her car. She opened up the car door and hopped in, hissing a little because the seat was warm from the sun. Leah pulled the door shut and they sped out of the parking lot, leaving rubber burn marks as Dylan always did.
As they drove along the coastline and back towards L.A., Leah only stared out towards the ocean. Finally, she made as if to talk and turned around in her seat to face Dylan.
"Why is he so different? Why couldn't you kick his ass like everyone else?"
"Because he knows me better than any other villain ever would. It's not like I still love him and can't curt him, we're both fueled to kill each other by our undying anger. Does that make any sense?"
"Not really sure."
"But anyway, he can predict my moves and knows my personality, it's almost impossible to beat him. I wonder if I ever will."
"I'm sure you will, Dylan," Leah murmured as she ran her fingers over the metal dogtags she always wore around her neck. "I know you will, someday."
"Don't be so sure."
"But when will I ever see him again?"
"Hopefully never, but after another eight years, he'll be released again, so I probably can't promise you'll never see him. And even if you can't see him, he still has contacts, okay? That's how he knew your name. Even if he's stuck in prison, he's got friends that will try and attack you even now. The only thing I know is that they wouldn't kill me, because Shaemus wants to do that himself. Do you get now how complicated these things can be?"
"I guess. But what about the hearing tomorrow?"
"You aren't going."
"But Dylan --"
"You saw what he did to you today! He was cataloguing what you look like, what your personality is like, your weaknesses, your strengths, it's the same thing he did to me! I don't want him to get the upper hand on your life, he's already got pretty good control with mine. So just understand why I don't want you seeing him again, okay? Just trust me on this one."
***
Dylan scratched at the wooden oak whorls on her desk as the judge clunked his gavel against the desk. She felt Shaemus's eyes burning into her side, but she also felt her best friends at her back, supporting her. She knew they were behind her somewhere, watching the hearing quietly from a distance and observing any discrepancies they thought Dylan might miss because of her over passionate emotions.
The judge glared around the courtroom and began to speak. "We are hear today to discuss the case of Shaemus McCollaugh O'Grady, and his lawyer's appeal for a shorter sentence…"
Dylan picked at her nails. She knew that there was a chance Shaemus would get a shorter sentence, but she didn't think he'd get it. After all, why would the jury decide to let a convict from the Irish mob free, who'd already been in prison earlier, but let out out of mysterious causes? It was a no-brainer, they'd deny the appeal and she could breath again.
But then Shaemus's lawyer stood up and began to speak. "The appeal for my client states that the sentence of eight years shall be shortened to two months, with parole available after two weeks."
Dylan felt her mouth drop. What in God's name did they think would happen? An eight year sentence shortened to two months? They were on drugs, she was sure of it, or overly confident. There was a bit of murmuring throughout the courtroom. The judge spoke up again.
"Order! We will present the new pieces of evidence that the defendants think will change the outcome of the case, and then the jurors will deliberate and come back for a second hearing."
