30. Chapter 30
Chapter thirty
Warlock
I remain free while awaiting the outcome of my hearing, but until the charges against me are resolved one way or the other, my team—my brothers—are officially undeployable.
As if that isn’t bad enough, my security clearance has been suspended, and I’m barred from entering our team room.
I can’t talk to my teammates because of the no-contact order, and most people on base seem happy to steer clear of me.
I suppose they don’t want to be linked to the stigma surrounding me.
I assume they’re all waiting to see how this fiasco plays out.
Two days after the farce they called a hearing, my JAG informed me the prosecution is prepared to offer me a deal.
All I have to do is plead guilty to four counts of reckless endangerment.
It means I won’t serve jail time and will get to keep some of my benefits, but I’d be dishonorably discharged and lose my Trident.
I can’t deny the deal is a good one—if I’d actually done what they’re accusing me of. Sure, my career would be ruined, but it would keep me out of prison.
Even so, how can I accept a plea admitting to something I didn’t do?
This whole nasty mess has me seething. Meanwhile, my career hangs in the balance, and people on base eyeball me like I’ve already been convicted.
Jaw tight, fists clenched, I trudge through the halls, my anger and frustration pulsating off me. My urge to hit something is overwhelming. Needing to burn off my barely contained energy, I head to the gym and change into workout clothes.
Blood boiling, I don’t stop to grab gloves or wrap my hands before I unleash my pent-up rage on the heavy bag.
I pummel it, relishing the violence, savoring the release, until my knuckles are raw, swollen, split, and bloody.
I’m worn out, drenched in sweat, and breathing hard, but the harsh workout hasn’t improved my mood.
I’ve been home long enough to change clothes and pour myself a drink when the phone rings.
“Master Chief, it’s Lieutenant Commander Hadleigh.”
My JAG calling me can’t be good news, a fact she wastes no time confirming, “I’m sorry to be the one to inform you that the preliminary hearing went against you. You’re being held over for trial.”
The way the prosecutor skewed the facts, portraying me as a violent vigilante, I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this. Still, hearing it is a shock.
“The prosecutor’s argument that, as a trained tier-one operator, you possess a specialized skill set resonated with the trial council,” she tells me.
“Meaning?”
“They’ve upped the charges to include four counts of attempted murder.”
Regretting being sober for this call, I drop into a chair and down my drink.
I rake my hand through my hair. “So that’s it then.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not all. They’ve discovered the woman involved is your girlfriend.
” Her disappointment comes through loud and clear.
“That’s information I should’ve known, Master Chief.
At trial, the prosecutor will argue that you were motivated by vengeance and jealousy and beat those men with the intention of killing them. ”
“If I intended to kill them, they’d be dead.” There’s a hard edge to my voice.
“I’ve looked into Ms. Crockett’s background.” I can hear her rustling papers. “I’m sure you’re aware of her reputation.”
“That reputation is based on lies and rumors.”
“Regardless, the four victims continue to claim she was with them voluntarily.”
Hearing Hadleigh even suggesting Tallahassee agreed to what those animals did to her is enough to enrage me.
“Can we please stop referring to them as victims, Lieutenant Commander?” I snap.
“And I told you, their version of events is nothing but a manufactured lie. That isn’t what happened.
Those bastards attacked her. She went to the ER.
I was there. She was examined. They took photographs, X-rays, and gave her medication. ”
“I’ve looked into that as well.” Hadleigh clears her throat, her next words measured, “There’s no record of that. No police report. No photographs. No paperwork from the ER.”
“What?”
How is that possible?
I sit forward, frowning and shaking my head. “What do you mean there’s no police report? I talked to Sergeant Metzger at the scene. He drove us to the hospital in his cruiser. I was with Tallahassee in the ER.”
“Sergeant Metzger testified in his deposition that Ms. Crockett was gone when he arrived. However, the men assured him she wasn’t injured and what occurred that night was consensual.”
“He also verified that he attempted to locate Ms. Crockett to confirm their story, but she lives in a motorhome with no permanent address.” Hadleigh releases a defeated sigh.
“Whether the stories surrounding Ms. Crockett are true or not, Master Chief, I’m not convinced her testifying on your behalf would benefit you,” Hadleigh’s voice is firm, but kind.
“Her testimony could do more harm than good.”
What Hadleigh doesn’t say is that Tallahassee would be annihilated under cross examination.
“What about the EMTs?” I offer. “They were there that night.”
“Their testimony aligns with Sergeant Metzger’s, that she wasn’t on scene when they got there.”
If Metzger’s claiming Tallahassee was gone by the time he arrived, there’s no point in mentioning that he listed Tallahassee as a Jane Doe. Even if records did exist under that name, with HIPAA laws it would be impossible to get our hands on them.
“My team saw the aftermath.” I’m grasping at straws now, and Hadleigh and I both know it.
“It’s doubtful their testimony would hold weight,” Hadleigh tells me. “They didn’t witness the alleged attack. The prosecution will argue your team has gone shields up to protect you.”
“My men wouldn’t do that. No member of my team would support me if I committed the crimes I’m being accused of.”
Reality is starting to sink in. All the parties involved must’ve been bought or scared off by Cyril Abernathy’s rich daddy.
Metzger agreeing to list Tallahassee as a Jane Doe.
Driving us to the hospital himself. Isolating her once we arrived.
I thought he was protecting her, but hindsight is 20/20 and I realize now his performance was about protecting someone else.
It makes me wonder how many times Sergeant Metzger has protected Cyril Abernathy and his friends. How much dirty money has he collected doing it?
But it wasn’t only Metzger. Instead of a prescription, the hospital gave Tallahassee pain medication in a small brown envelope.
She wasn’t given any after care or discharge papers.
At the time, I didn’t question it because my only concern was Tallahassee.
All I wanted was to get her checked out and get her home.
I’m in the most important fight of my life and all the proof has vanished, likely destroyed, if there was ever any to begin with. The police, EMTs, and hospital staff, all bought, silenced, or afraid.
“The prosecution’s plea offer is still available, Master Chief,” Hadleigh says cautiously. “My advice is that you seriously consider taking it. It’s your best hope. Honestly, in my opinion, it’s your only way out of this.”
I surge to my feet and start to pace. “With all due respect, ma’am, it’s my ass on the line.
If I take that deal, I’m surrendering and admitting I’m guilty.
This farce may end up taking everything else from me, but I’ll be damned if it takes my honor.
I’m not accepting a deal saying what I did was wrong, because it wasn’t.
I can’t, I won’t, confess to something I didn’t do. ”
An unexpected knock on my door gives me the excuse I need to end this conversation. “I have to go.” I don’t wait for a response, hanging up on her.
Hadleigh’s right. Tallahassee’s testimony won’t help. The media branded her a slut and a whore. Those rich bastards are already spreading more lies to discredit her with their depositions. No one believed her three years ago, what chance was there that anyone would believe her now?
They’re using Tallahassee’s fabricated reputation, a crooked cop, and a billionaire’s money to bury the truth. And I’m the scapegoat being portrayed as a violent, jealous loose cannon who couldn’t control his temper.
Maybe I’m insane for refusing their plea deal. But I’m just not capable of abandoning my principles. I can’t willingly give up being a SEAL. And I couldn’t live with myself if I saved my own ass by confessing to something I didn’t do.
It’s official, I’m beyond fucked.
If they get their way, and I expect they will, they’re going to strip me of my Trident and send me to prison for decades.
An unbearable spike of dread twists in my chest. If the trial goes against me and I end up in prison, I’ll be a convicted felon when I get out.
Everything I’ve worked for, all my accomplishments, will be wiped away.
What would I have to become to survive inside?
And when I’m finally released, what will be left of me?
I won’t come out the same. I’ll end up darker.
Harder. Colder and angrier. Haunted. More jaded.
A more persistent knock snaps me out of my grim and discouraging thoughts.
I swing the door open to my dad holding a bag of takeout.
I’ve become antisocial, avoiding the few people still allowed to talk to me, including Tallahassee and my dad, so this is the first time I’ve seen him since my hearing.
I go to work, then come home, spending my off hours inside the four walls of my apartment, memories haunting me and too much whiskey as my only company.
After setting the bag on the table, he pulls me into a firm hug. “It’s good to see you, son. You’ve been a hard man to track down these past few days.”
I release him and step away, my fucking emotions teetering on the verge of drowning me again.
He takes me in, his gaze lingering on my hands. “Are you alright?” I know it’s not just my bloody knuckles making him ask about my mental state. “What is it? What happened?”
I run a weary hand over my face and through my hair.
I’m not sure how to tell him the deck is stacked against me other than to spit it out.
“It’s not good news, Dad. They found out I was dating Tallahassee.
They’re claiming I went after those bastards harder because I was overcome with vengeance and jealousy.
They’ve upped the charges to four counts of attempted murder. ”
Dad gasps, his voice strangled and quiet, “Darren, no.”
I give him a synopsis of my preliminary hearing, the subsequent offer the prosecution made, Brett Abernathy’s involvement, and my phone call with Hadleigh.
“All the evidence has been destroyed. There’s nothing, Dad.
No paperwork. No photographs. Not a single shred of evidence exists to prove Tallahassee was attacked that night or that I was defending her.
” There’s no mistaking the anger or frustration in my tone.
“The cops, the doctor, and those four assholes have all put their lies on the record under oath.”
“Tallahassee will gladly come to your defense and testify on your behalf,” Dad offers.
“She can clear it up, tell them what really happened.” A short pulse of silence stretches between us.
“She keeps calling and asking about you,” he mentions cautiously.
“She’s worried. She wants to know when she can see you. ”
I don’t tell him she’s been calling or texting me daily as well. Instead, I pour a generous amount of whiskey into my empty glass.
“You need to talk to her, son,” he says when I remain silent.
I don’t tell him it’s a moot point. That I’ve already decided to stop seeing her. It’s the only way to protect her from the fallout of my trial. But I know he’ll try to talk me out of it, and I’m not about to argue the point with my father.
I lift my glass and take a healthy swallow. “She’s been through enough. I don’t want her involved. She doesn’t need to be dragged into this witch hunt.”
“But she is involved. I don’t understand why you’re trying to exclude her. Isn’t she the best chance to clear your name?”
I release an exhausted sigh. “There’s something you don’t know about her.”
I tell my dad about Tallahassee’s past. What Vincent did three years ago, and what he’s trying to do now.
When I finish, I fall into the closest chair.
“The only witnesses to what happened at McQueen’s are me and Tallahassee, and both of us have been labeled as irrational and deceitful.
” I don’t have the heart to tell him Tallahassee would be destroyed if she testified.
“What are you going to do?” he asks once I finish recounting the quagmire of shit currently overtaking my life. He tries to sound casual, but fear and concern are etched into his expression.
“I refused the deal. What else could I do? I’m not sacrificing my career by admitting to something I didn’t do. If they want my Trident, they’re going to have to rip it off my fucking chest.”
With or without Tallahassee, I’m being steamrolled by the Navy—who seem to be influenced by Brett Abernathy—and I don’t stand a chance of receiving a fair trial.
“They’re going to send me to prison, Dad.”
A tsunami of emotions crosses his face as he processes that information before he straightens his shoulders. “We won’t let that happen,” he says with a nod. “Whatever it takes, you stand and fight.”
I swallow around the tight feeling in my throat. While I appreciate his resolve, I’m not as confident as he is.
I’m not sure which is worse, losing my Trident and facing prison time, or knowing I’m going to break Tallahassee’s heart.