40. Brogan
Iheard the clanging of metal before one of the guard’s grating voices. “Sinclair, up and on your feet. Your attorney's here.”
I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
My body felt as sluggish as my mind, as I hadn’t been sleeping.
In fact, I didn't think I'd slept more than an hour or two in the last couple of days.
I'd been at this fucking jail for a week now, and I was losing any hope of ever getting out of here.
My attorney hadn't really been able to do shit so far, and I’d come to three conclusions, any of which were plausible.
One, my father had him dragging his feet purposely to make me suffer.
Two, the attorney himself was in way over his head.
Or three, the prosecution had such an airtight case that there was little he could do at the time.
Whatever the reason, short of changing attorneys, I wasn't sure anything would change.
I stood up and walked to the door, which they opened.
I placed my hands out in front of me as they cuffed me.
It’d become so commonplace that I often did it without even thinking.
Thankfully, they never felt the need to shackle my ankles when visiting my attorney.
They only did that dog and pony show when parading me down the hallway in front of others in an attempt to humiliate me.
Regardless, I wasn’t a threat to anyone but myself at this point.
As I lay in my cell twenty-three hours a day, thoughts of hurting myself were often front and center.
I’d been off my medications since being arrested, which certainly hadn’t helped matters.
And while I normally got an hour in the yard, the last few days I’d opted to stay in my cell.
What use does it do me to tease myself?
That question burned in my brain as resignation set in and took up residence there. Breathing fresh air was one thing, but there seemed to be little hope of me ever getting out of this place, so it was just delaying the inevitable.
The guard tugged on the chain connecting my cuffed wrists, and I fell into step beside him as he led me down the hallway to one of the rooms where inmates talked to their attorneys.
Like it’d been pointed out before, there were cameras, but no audio was recorded, not that I’d said anything incriminating because I hadn't fucking done anything.
Still, as soon as I stepped through the door, I waited for the cuffs to be removed, then turned and came to a stop at the man seated there beside Joel.
Not only was my attorney there, but my father as well. “I see prison has been treating you well, Son.”
I shrugged at his observation, not confirming or denying it.
Any response I made would be considered weakness in his eyes.
I saw the glint in his dark eyes, ones that mirrored mine, and I could tell he was gloating over the fact that I was in prison, and probably would be for the rest of my natural life.
The attorney tapped the empty seat near him, so I moved over and sat down. Ignoring my father, I turned to the attorney. “What’s new?”
“Possibly a break we could use,” the man replied.
I arched my brow. “Go on.”
“After finding the weapon, the police conducted numerous tests, including the use of forensic equipment but found no traces whatsoever of blood anywhere but on the weapon.”
“And they can do that?” my father asked, but my attorney and I both ignored him.
“They’d used forensic imaging, slanted lights, and even Luminol testing but found nothing.”
My attorney went on to explain the different types of testing that could be done to identify blood, even if cleaned up really well. There’d also been some swabbing, scraping, and tape lifting of certain areas, as well as some other chemicals used on those surfaces to detect blood.
“So outside of uncovering the weapon and that key, they've come up empty everywhere else,” he said to me.
“That would have to prove I’m innocent,” I said to him, and at his expression, my suddenly uplifted mood plummeted.
“It’s certainly something we’ll be sure to use at trial, but the truth of the matter is that Ms. Harte could’ve been harmed and killed elsewhere, which would explain the lack of blood at the scene.
Her DNA was found on the bloody weapon, and that had been what caused the indictment to be returned against you. ”
A sigh escaped my lips. “One step forward, two steps back.”
“I don’t want you to worry about any of that right now. My job is to plant doubt into the minds of the jurors, and this helps with that. In the meantime, are you sure she's never mentioned any enemies, or anyone that’d want to hurt her?”
“I've already told you that I don't know the ins and outs of her life.”
“But you’re her fiancé, Brogan.”
“Titles are names only. Isn't that right, Father?” I asked as he sat silently next to the attorney.
“Son, he’s only trying to help you. At this point, I don’t think a few conspiracy theories are going to do much for you. Joel, do you mind letting me have a moment alone with my son?”
“Take your time, Stanley,” he said, then popped some earbuds into his ears before moving to a nearby table where he started to lay out some documentation I knew he’d want me to sign soon.
I turned toward my father and suspected that whatever he had to say, he didn't want his attorney to hear. “What is it?”
“Have you given any more thought to what we’d talked about previously?”
“Which would be?”
“The actor… ahhh… getting rid of him.”
Declan had done a good enough job at that himself, especially now that I’d never forgive him for what he’d done.
He’d betrayed me, which I’d never expected from him.
The ache from that duplicity still cut me deep, but I managed to school my anguish into a slight dismissiveness that had my father’s lips thinning.
“I’ve told you before that I’ll not allow you to dictate any part of my life, including the friends or company I keep.”
“What kind of life are you going to have in here, Son? You're in fucking jail, or have you forgotten that? Maybe, you’ve already found a boyfriend in—”
“Fuck off!”
I’d told my father more than once that I wasn’t attracted to men.
I was attracted to one specific man, and that was it.
Outside of him, I still liked women. Enslee was proof of that.
And although the former had broken my heart, I still saw his face every time I closed my fucking eyes.
I’d see his face, his body. I’d feel him lying beside me in bed, feel his hands on me and his dick inside of me, which would only reinforce how na?ve I’d been over him.
I’d always considered myself a smart guy, but when it came to matters of the heart, I had to be the stupidest man alive because a part of me still yearned for the man who’d raised me up so many times during the course of my life, only to watch me fall.
I suspected that he’d want to visit me at some point, so I’d been sure to add him to a non-visitor list. And despite what Enslee had said on her visit, I still suspected that he had sent her as well.
If he’d come clean about the money, we could’ve worked past it, but even that was doubtful. Still, it beat impossible, which was where things stood now. I suppose, without a script, Declan hadn’t had much to say.
When it came to my father, I had plenty to say to him. First, a single word was all he deserved. “No!”
“You know he’s going to forget about you.
” I shrugged once more. “You'll eventually fade away in his memory and become an inconvenient part of his past, and one he'll keep as secret as the relationship you'd harbored with him all these years.
No respectable citizen is going to want to say they'd been in bed with a murderer.”
“I didn't murder anybody. I didn't touch her. I did nothing to her.”
“And no one will believe you because during her disappearance, you couldn’t have cared less about her being missing if you’d tried. The jury will see that and have you convicted before Joel can even come up with a defense.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
I could see the irritation growing on his face. “I'm willing to do what I can to make this go away.”
I chuckled at his arrogance. “Humor me this… How in the fuck are you going to make murder charges go away? I've been indicted, arrested, arraigned, and booked as I sit here awaiting trial. You can't just wave a magic wand and make it all disappear.”
He leaned in close to me and smirked. “Never underestimate the power of a Sinclair, Son. Maybe if you’d thought more about carrying on the legacy of your namesake, instead of cavorting around with that boy, you’d know in our world that favors are owed and collected upon.
And when all else fails, there are pardons. I have ways around things.”
“And you’d be willing to do all that for me?” I asked sarcastically.
“I would,” he replied vehemently. “If you do what I want you to do.”
“So give up Declan,” I said to him.
“You know the terms, so what is it going to be, Son?”
Again, I could’ve given him what he wanted by admitting things between Declan and me were over, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction no matter what it cost me.
A Sinclair, no matter how right or wrong, never bowed down to anyone.
Least of all another Sinclair. It’d been why my treatment in that facility had been even more torturous.
That time period had been a complete hell, while the cell that awaited me was simply my waiting area to that destination.
“No deal,” I said, taking satisfaction in watching his jaw clench.
“I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you, Brogan.
How can you throw your entire life and future away like this?
Do you understand that you're looking at life in prison without parole?
Are you really willing to risk staying in this place for the rest of your life while he's on the outside doing god knows what with god knows who?”
“Obviously.”
“Are you that fucking hard up and desperate?”
I raked a hand through my hair, which had gotten longer since arriving here.
I knew my father thought me even weaker not to take his offer, but I wouldn’t surrender to his conditions.
I likely was stupid, as I’d already done what he’d wanted me to do, but I’d never let him know that.
In this power struggle between father and son, I refused to be the one to give in.
Besides, I was an innocent man, and right now, I was banking on my attorney being able to prove that.
My attorney returned, and as he pulled out his earbuds, he looked between my father and me. “I need Brogan to sign some documentation before it gets too late into this visit.”
My father waved his hand and I got up to follow Joel. I signed my name in each spot that he directed. “Is this all?”
“Yes, that’s all from me.”
“My father… I don’t want you to bring him back.”
“Are you sure? It was really hard getting him here to begin with.”
I looked over my shoulder at my father, who was still fuming. “Yes. I don't have anything to say to him, now or ever. Please don't bring him again.”
And with that, I walked toward the door to let the guards know I was ready to go back to my cell. “You're making a big mistake, Brogan,” my father said loudly.
I didn't even give him the benefit of turning around.
I simply shrugged my shoulders, and as the door opened, I held my hands out in front of me.
Once the cuffs were on, I was led back to my cell where dinner had been delivered.
The chicken and rice looked extremely unappealing, and the very sight of it was enough to make my stomach churn.