Mason frowned. “As opposed to…what?”
“I still want to take this to trial. But I’m obligated to bring this offer to you, because you are the victim.”
“How much jail time could he possibly get if we take it to trial?”
“If he’s found guilty on attempted pre-meditated murder, he could easily do ten years or more. That voice mail message he left you really helps nail that one down, in my opinion. Probably more than ten years, based on the evidence we have and the other charges. But we’re also going to offer lesser charges for the jury to contemplate so he doesn’t skate free on a technicality because some idiot in the jury room doesn’t want to sentence him that long.”
“You think you’ve got enough?”
“We have the videos from the security cameras. We have the text message record and the phone calls. The voice mail he left you. He confessed to doing it, and there is absolutely no evidence that anyone else was in his car besides him. We have physical evidence, and we have witnesses.”
Mason opted to defer to Cole. “What do you think?”
“I think you need to do whatever means you’ll sleep well at night. I’m good with you making the call you need to make for you. We’ll support you either way.”
Mason studied his hands, which lay on the table. On the one hand, a sure-fire slam dunk, they could go home and celebrate, and it was done.
On the other, an unsure option that could have Freddie do more jail time, but not guaranteed.
An option that meant dragging himself—and the people he loved—through a trial.
He looked across the table at where his dad sat.
“Make the little fucker pay,” his dad said.
Mason returned his attention to Kim.
“Mase, he said it before, and I’ll say it, too. We’re here with you regardless of what you decide to do. You do what you need to do. We will support you either way.”
Mason focused on the attorney. “You’re sure he’ll get convicted?”
“Nothing is a sure-thing. I’m very confident. Let’s put it that way. I’ve convicted people on less solid evidence. Even if the jury doesn’t convict him on the most serious charges, the likelihood is he’ll do at least that same amount of time as the plea deal.”
“Then let’s do this,” Mason said. “Unless he wants to change his plea deal to at least fifteen years in jail, no time off.”
“I’ll let them know. You all can wait here. I’ll be back shortly.” The attorney left the conference room.
Mason took a deep breath. “I hope I don’t regret this.”
Cole patted him on the shoulder. “He needs to pay for what he did.”
The attorney returned five minutes later. “No-go. We’re going to trial. You can wait out in the hall, if you want.”
“What about jury selection?”
“I’m guessing a couple of hours, if that. If you’d like to go eat or something, and I’ll call you when to come back. We won’t start the trial portion before one, at the earliest.”
“We’ll wait.”
They found a waiting area with more comfortable benches. When Tilly came hustling up a few minutes later, she sounded out of breath. “What’d I miss?”
“We’re going to trial,” Cole told her. “He wanted a plea deal, the prosecution made a counter-offer, and he refused it.”
“Good. I hope they put him under the jail.” She gave hugs all around and then settled on a bench. “You still doing your PT?”
Mason snapped her a salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Smartass.” She smiled “It’s good to see you up and about. All you people need to stop giving me scares. I can’t take the stress. Landry, Abbey, Laura, Betsy. Hell, Reed got fucking air-lifted by the Coasties. For a damn gall bladder attack.” She snorted, then her face turned sad. “Leo and Eva just about killed me, the two of them. Between his car wreck and her issues with the baby. And then Sofia…”
She jabbed a finger at him. “I might be a nurse, but you guys aren’t allowed to keep scaring me like this. I’m only human. I’m going to start requiring my friends live wrapped in bubble wrap.”
“I’m glad we’ve got you, though,” Kim softly said. “We love you.”
Tilly almost looked…embarrassed. “Yeah, well, I love you guys, too.”
* * * *
Mason wasn’t sure how he’d handle testifying against Freddie. It was weird seeing him sitting at the defense table, in a rumpled, oversized button-up shirt and slacks that had probably come from a thrift store. He had a public defender, and the state attorney had confirmed Freddie’s family had completely disowned him over this.
The man glared at Mason as Mason was sworn in and prepared to give his testimony.
The state attorney was ten minutes in to walking Mason through the events that led up to the night of the attack when Freddie stood and started shouting.
“All I wanted to do was love you! Why couldn’t I have moved to Florida with you?” He tried to round the table, but a bailiff and his defense attorney tackled the guy, even as Mason’s dad and stepdad had to hold Tilly back, who’d started to stand and go after Freddie.
The judge banged his gavel while calling for order and getting the bailiffs to get the jury removed until things were calmed down.
Mason remained where he’d been sitting, waiting, watching.
Freddie was sobbing, screaming nearly incoherently.
“Fifteen minute adjournment,” the judge ordered. “Counselor, get your client under control or he’ll be in full irons and a gag.”
Mason’s gaze somehow had locked onto Tilly’s.
He totally blamed her for freezing and starting to laugh at that.
Mason clamped his lips together, trying not to laugh, but that made Tilly laugh even harder, until Mason was faking a coughing attack to hide the fact that he was laughing his ass off.
Freddie might end up in some nonconsensual bondage after all.
It actually took the better part of a half hour before the jury was brought back in, the judge instructed them to ignore the defendant’s outburst, and the case resumed. When the state attorney finished his questions, the defense attorney stood.
“No questions, your Honor.”
Mason wasn’t sure what that meant until the judge turned to him. “You’re excused, Mr. Lange.”
Mason slowly stood, not having to fake how much he was hurting today, and letting the bailiff loan him a helping arm to get down from the stand and to his walker.
Freddie glared at him the entire time.
Mason didn’t even look at him, his gaze focused on where Cole, Kim, Tilly, and his parents were waiting.
They all helped him out into the hallway, where he hugged Tilly. “You damn troublemaker,” he said.
She grinned. “Hey, I can’t help it. That was some funny shit right there.”
“What happened?” Cole asked. He and Kim might be called to testify, so they had to wait in the hallway.
“What’d we miss?” his dad asked.
“You didn’t hear the judge threaten to put him in irons and gag him?” Mason asked.
His dad shook his head. “We were too busy trying to keep Tilly out of prison orange.”
They only had to wait another hour for the trial to finish. The state attorney had just come out to tell them that the jury had the case, when one of his paralegals hurried out to call him back in.
He stuck his head through the door. “Jury’s back.”
Mason and Cole exchanged a glance. “Is that good?”
“Hopefully. Come on.”
They all returned to the courtroom. Freddie was escorted in by bailiffs, who had him in full irons. They hooked his leg irons to a ring in the floor, but unlocked and removed the ones from his wrist.
Then the judge and jury returned.
Mason sat between Cole and Kim, holding their hands while the clerk delivered the verdict to the judge. He read it, returned it, and then asked the foreman to read it.
“We, the jury, on the first charge of attempted premeditated murder, find the defendant guilty.” He worked through all six primary charges that had been filed against Freddie.
All guilty.
Freddie tried to turn, but the leg irons kept him from moving. “I hope you rot in hell!” he screamed at Mason as the judge once again gaveled for order. The defense polled the jury—which Mason realized meant asking them all what their verdict was.
Unanimously guilty.
Ten minutes later, it was done. There’d be a sentencing hearing, but Freddie would most likely not only do the minimum fifteen years in jail, but probably more than that.
“Now what?” Mason asked the state attorney when he walked over to talk to them.
“I’ll let you know. Do you want to be here for the sentencing?” It was scheduled to be held in two weeks.
Mason looked at Cole and Kim. “I don’t know. Keep me posted. Maybe not. Not unless I need to be here.”
“You can give a victim’s impact statement. Or you can write one to be read in court.”
“He needs to go under the jail,” Tilly muttered. “How’s that for an impact statement?”
“Keep me posted,” Mason replied. “I’ll let you know.”
Two weeks later, Mason was there. He hadn’t told Kim and Cole he was going, confiding in Tilly and asking her to keep it quiet. They’d missed enough work.
And he didn’t want them anywhere near Freddie, even though the man couldn’t do anything else.
And he used the wheelchair that time, Tilly pushing him up to the podium, where she stood behind him, ready to steady him. It’d been a damned cold day, and he’d barely been able to walk due to his pain.
“As you can see, your Honor, my life has changed forever, all because I was a nice guy. I didn’t want to be a jerk and tell him to go screw himself.” Mason hadn’t prepared a statement, preferring to wing it.
He looked at Freddie. “I told him repeatedly we were just friends, and he couldn’t handle reality. So for trying not to be a jerk to the guy and cutting him out of my life totally, he tried to kill me. His family were jerks, and I thought maybe by being a friend to him that I could be a positive influence. Had I known what would happen, I never would have gotten involved with him, even as just a friend.”
He gripped the podium. “Because of this, I nearly died. I lost my job. This stressed out my family, my friends, the people I love. I will live with the effects of what he did to me for the rest of my life. All because I tried to be nice. I’m normally not a vindictive person, but I hope you give him the maximum sentence possible. Because I now have a life sentence of dealing with my injuries. And so does my husband.”
He knew he didn’t have to add that last part, but it would be an extra knife in Freddie’s heart.
Five minutes later, the judge was sentencing Freddie to twenty years in prison, a mandatory fifteen of them to be served with no time off.
Mason glared at Freddie as he was led from the courtroom.
When it was done, he sat there for a moment, deep in thought.
Tilly finally rested a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”
He nodded. “What’s it say about me that part of me still feels a little bit sorry for the guy? Not excusing what he did, or forgiving him for what he did. But his shit for a family didn’t help matters any.”
She patted his shoulder. “The true liability is you’re too fucking nice, dude.” She smiled. “Watch out or I’ll recommend they revoke your sadist union card.”
He smiled. “You wouldn’t do that to me. You love me.”
“Damned lucky I love you guys. Now let’s get you home before your spouses figure out we’re not there and kill me for not giving them a heads-up.”
But later that night, after dinner and once they were alone, Mason did tell them how he’d spent his day.
Kim looked a little…sad. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because I’m done with him. I don’t want him in our lives any longer. And this happened because of me, not because of you two. I wanted it handled by me. And from this point on, the focus of my life is you two.” He kissed Kim, then Cole. “You guys faced fear head on. It was time for me to do the same thing.”
He’d thought he might be in a mood to play when they went to bed, but he wasn’t. Instead, he ordered Kim to suck Cole’s cock and lay there with the man cuddled against him.
Meanwhile, Kim sported a brand new vibrating egg that was twice as powerful as the other one was. And Mason had it turned up to the highest setting, which had her coming, squirming on the bed, moaning around Cole’s cock.
Mason lay there, his lips just above Cole’s. “That’s it. Let our pet suck one out of you, buddy.”
Okay, so maybe he could get it up after all. Looking down into Cole’s blue eyes, the sounds he was making, the sounds she was making, Mason’s cock started getting hard. He slanted his mouth over Cole’s and kissed him, swallowing his moans as Kim swallowed his cum.
Next thing Mason knew, he was on his back, Cole kissing him, and Cole had fisted Kim’s hair, pulled her off his cock, and onto Mason’s.
“Time for you to give me one, buddy,” Cole teased, flicking his tongue over Mason’s lips. Kim moaned as another orgasm ripped through her, courtesy of the vibrating egg. Cole kept a hand in her hair, guiding her movement as he stared down into Mason’s eyes.
Mason reached up, cupped the back of Cole’s neck, and pulled him all the way down for a kiss while his orgasm rushed through him. Kim’s happy moan as she tasted him quickly changed into another moan of pleasure while the egg did its job.
Mason found the remote and turned it off as he coaxed Kim back up and kissed her. “Such a good girl.”
“Thank you, Master.” She plopped onto the bed, right between them.
“Did that egg wear you out?” Mason asked.
“Uh-huh.”
He snuggled against her side. Tonight he wanted her in the middle. He and Cole both draped their arms over her. “Not going to go take it out, huh?”
“Too tired,” she muttered.
Mason practically giggled. Last time she’d fallen asleep with it in, he and Cole had awakened her the next morning by starting it on the lowest setting and slowly increasing it until she awoke moaning and squirming in the middle of the bed.
He met Cole’s playful gaze.
Cole winked, and Mason winked back.
Yep, same wavelength.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cole had just finished cooking dinner when the doorbell rang. He rushed out to answer it, catching Mason’s eye where the man had apparently left the bedroom and settled on the couch without permission.
“I thought I told you not to get up without help,” he said to Mason on his way past.
“I didn’t want to bug you. I got it.”
“You fall and hurt yourself again, you’ll end up in a rehab facility. Then what are we going to do about kinky showtime, huh?” Mason had lost his balance the day before in the shower. Fortunately, he and Kim had both been home to stabilize him and call 911.
Which Mason had insisted they shouldn’t call, but they ignored him.
Well, Cole ignored him while Kim was once again left smiling and shrugging at being overruled by Mason’s husband.
Six hours later they were home again after radiology scans showed Mason hadn’t hit his head or done any worse damage to himself than he already had, just some bumps and bruises.
So Cole had ordered him to use the walker for the next several days, and not to get out of bed without someone helping him.
Which, of course, Mason was busy ignoring.
Damn Dom.
Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and Cole was off from work until January second. Cole pulled up short to find Tony Daniels at their front door.
“Hey, come on in.”
“Sorry I didn’t call first. Just got off work. I won’t be long. How’s the patient?”
Cole closed the door be
hind him and led him through to the living room. “You can ask him yourself.”
“Hey, Tony.”
“Hey, slacker.” Tony grinned as he walked around the couch and leaned in to hug the man. “Good to see you up and about. Sort of.”
“Yeah, sort of.”
Tony settled into one of the chairs. “Real quick, and hate to put you on the spot like this, but can you work?”
“Doing what?”
“Well, for now, you’d be working under me as a DBA. Not exactly the pay you were at, I’m sure, but I have an opening I’m hiring for and they haven’t posted it yet. No one in the department or in any of my other departments wants to post for it. I can bring you in as a probationary hire.”
Mason didn’t look exactly happy. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice right now.”
“The good news,” Tony added, “is that in a few months I’ve got another guy who’s going to be leaving. One of my supervisors. Two levels up from what you did before. You’d be eligible to post for that when it’s available. Probably still less than you’d like to make, but honestly? You’d be the front-runner in terms of experience and skills.”
Cole stood behind Mason, behind the couch, and rested his hands on his shoulders. “He’ll take it.”
Mason looked up at him. “Do I get a say?”
“You already said. I’m just emphasizing.”
“You don’t even know if I can do the job.”
“If Tony says you know how to do the job, who am I to argue?”
“My husband has spoken,” Mason joked.
Tony grinned. “Amazing how that happens, huh?”
“So when do I start?”
“Technically, you have to interview first.”
“When is that?”
“Right now.” Tony smiled again. “And you need to talk to HR, but I told them the circumstances and that you’ll call for an appointment.” He pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Mason. “Mandy’s already gone for the day. Call her first thing on the twenty-sixth and set it up. And get me a copy of your resume, ASAP.”