Page 36 of Devious Roses
That has my breaths coming out in gasps.
“You can’t take him away. Please don’t take him away. Not again. Please don’t do it. Please!”
I’m babbling, caught up in a whirlwind of delirious panic. Rather than standing in the courtroom, I’m lost to the past, where I’d discovered Salvatore was gone. He’d put me in hiding so that he could go off to fight Lucius and finish their war. Only he wasn’t returning. It soon became evident he had been captured. He was being tortured.
They were killing him.
He survived only by the skin of his teeth.
I had come so close to losing him. Every moment was a crushing blow to my heart.
I was lucky enough to have Salvatore back last time. How do I know I’ll be so fortunate this time around? How do I know he’ll make it out alive?
Lucius certainly tried his damnedest to ensure he didn’t survive…
“Ms. Adams, if you don’t calm yourself this moment, I will have no choice but to hold you in contempt! Step away from the bailiffs and defendant and compose yourself!”
It’s like I’m watching myself from the outside looking in. I have no sense of autonomy over myself. My body, my mouth, they’re doing what they want. They refuse to listen to the judge as he bangs his gavel and orders a second bailiff to subdue me.
The next thing I know, arms are wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me away. I’m flanked by Stitches and Medjine, who have intervened and swooped in at the last second to save me. Carlos has approached the bench and is attempting to talk down an intensely agitated Judge Onile.
Polk watches from the prosecution side with menace gleaming in his eyes.
I’m too dazed, too lightheaded to recognize what’s happening. Salvatore disappears through the side door without a proper goodbye; he’ll be transported directly to jail, his new home for the foreseeable future.
I blink and I’m standing on the courthouse steps. Medjine is trying to calm me down and Stitches is talking with Carlos about a strategy for the way forward.
“Delphine,” Medjine says, giving my shoulders a shake. “Are you with me? Nod your head for yes.”
“Salvatore,” I croak. It hurts to breathe, my heart aching in my chest.
Medjine and the other two exchange grim looks.
“We’ll get him off,” Carlos says eventually.
But the words couldn’t sound less confident. The atmosphere in the air couldn’t be more uncertain.
The unfortunate truth stares us in the face: Salvatore might go away for good.
9
salvatore
I’m transferredto the county correctional facility no less than two hours after my bail hearing. The correctional officer at the booking desk instructs me to empty my pockets of all personal belongings. My wallet, my keys, even the lint inside my pockets are collected. I’m taken straight into a medical room for an examination, where a tight-lipped, snooty asshole of a wannabe doctor gives me a checkup, and makes sure I’m okay enough to be housed like your standard detainee.
Once he gives the green light, I’m shuffled to the next stop on the assembly line. A couple ugly sets of bright orange scrubs and pair of worker boots are shoved into my arms along with a threadbare blanket and the flimsiest pillow I’ve ever laid my hands on.
For tracking purposes, they issue me a personal identification number.
“Follow me,” says the officer that’s the last stop. He leads me out of the booking room into an area that fans out into smaller sections.
Quads of jail cells with a common area in the center.
I follow half a pace behind him, ignoring the curious faces wedging themselves between the iron bars.
It seems new arrivals are entertainment around these parts. By the time we reach my cell, half the jail’s gathered at the bars, trying to get a look even though I’m well out of sight for some of them.
The officer, who I learn is named Sandberg, turns to me. “This is you. Get in. Dinner was half an hour ago. Which means you’ve got ’til tomorrow for a meal. Sucks for you.”