(Cary's POV)
"MR. HAMES, please call to the stand your first witness."
Jonathan finally broke his gaze with me and I looked down in my lap. That was the one thing I couldn't handle, the one thing that would've pushed me over the edge. And it happened — his steel gray eyes were like fiery branding irons, opening up the scars he'd already given me.
Tears streamed down my face, and seeing the scar on the palm of my hand didn't help any. Soda and Darry held me tight, but the floodgates were already opened. I managed to silence my sobs, but my hands were shaking uncontrollably.
I could barely keep my breathing under control, but I stopped completely when Mr. Hames spoke into his microphone.
"Mr. Jonathan Davies."
I froze in place, staring at the wooden divider in front of me. I heard Jonathan's shackles jingle as he stood up and was led towards the stand. They got closer with each step he took, and even though we were in a room full of people and he was the one in handcuffs, I still felt the same way I did that Sunday I was walking home from Cassie's bakery — September 20th. Almost a month ago. Despite both Darry and Soda's hands gripping mine, I felt scared and alone, and in that moment I wanted nobody else but Johnny.
I then remembered that he was here, in this room, and it gave me what little strength I needed to lift my head up and face Jonathan. I was going to show him how little he meant to me, even through the tears that made my eyes puffy.
Mr. Hames began pacing before he even started talking. "Mr. Davies," he started, "as you have heard, Ms. Curtis blames you for repeated abuse during your relationship—"
"She's a liar!" Jonathan interrupted and hearing his voice sent shivers down my spine. I felt him looking at me, but I avoided his gaze. I didn't think I could handle another cold look from him.
Mr. Hames smiled uncomfortably. "So you never abused Ms. Curtis in any way?"
"No, never!" His voice was angry, just like how he spoke when he was drunk. I guess some things never change, even with two weeks of jail time.
"Explain."
Jonathan sighed dramatically, and I scoffed inwardly. He was such a bad liar. "She's a druggie, was high all the time. I tried to get her to stop, but she just got mad."
Gasps crawled across the room, and I couldn't decide whether it was from shock he would say something so outrageous or because the guy in handcuffs was defending himself for something he was so obviously guilty of.
"How often does she use drugs?"
"'Bout every day," he said confidently, "sometimes even more than that."
I looked at my brothers, my mouth agape. I expected him to lie, but not something as outrageous as this.
"Tell me, Mr. Davies, did Ms. Curtis ever hit you?"
Jonathan scoffed, his frustration so obviously fake it was infuriating. "Plenty of times."
"Very well, then," Mr. Hames said, nodding his head, "no further questions, Your Honor."
That was it? I knew Jonathan's lawyer didn't have much evidence to go off of — because there wasn't any — but his case was pitiful. I couldn't help but laugh to myself.
I felt myself smile when Mr. Dayton stood up. If there was anybody who could work the truth out of Jonathan, it was him.
"Mr. Davies, you claim that Ms. Curtis abused you during your relationship. Tell me, did you ever reciprocate that abuse?"
"No, never."
"Never?" Mr. Dayton questioned. "So all claims of Mrs. Jackson, Ms. Graham, Mr. Curtis, and Ms. Curtis herself are all false?"
The whole room fell silent for a moment, Jonathan included. I felt the corners of my mouth pull into a grin.
Finally, Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Are you deaf or somethin'? I said no, meathead." His sassiness was so unlike him. Jonathan was never sassy, he was cruel. He felt weak, that's why. Sitting in front of a room full of people in a black-and-white striped jumpsuit with his hair buzzed and wrists cuffed together had to have been humiliating. Maybe that was the point. Either way, I loved it.
"Did you ever...touch Ms. Curtis, Mr. Davies?" Mr. Dayton asked. "In other words, has she ever been sexually assaulted by you?"
Jonathan leaned into the counter in front of him. "I only ever touched Cary out of love." He looked at me, desperately trying to look affectionate, but I saw right through it. It was all a show for the jury, but behind his caring facade, I saw nothing but a careless monster. "I've always loved her and I still do."
"Consensual love, Mr. Davies?"
And with that, Jonathan's facade began to crumble. He swallowed, his eyes filling with rage as they turned towards Mr. Dayton.
"Why are you so insistent on this, old man? I said no!" He said, condescendingly accentuating the last word.
"I'm just doing my job. Mr. Davies." Mr. Dayton shrugged, picking up a folder from the prosecution table and flipping through it before speaking again. "Now, answer me this, did you or did you not visit the diner on September 20th?"
"No!" Jonathan said, growing angrier by the second. "I didn't do any of this! They're all liars, every last one of 'em!" He looked me in the eyes again. I tried to hold it, tried to show him I wouldn't back down, but I couldn't do it. It stung, burning the inside of my already fragile heart.
"See! See!" He exclaimed. "Look at her, looking down in shame. She knows what she's done."
Everyone's eyes were on me then, and I briefly glanced up at Mr. Dayton. He, too, was looking at me but gave me an amused look. He knew Jonathan was lying. I just hoped the jury would, too.
Mr. Dayton turned back towards Jonathan, his hands in his coat pockets. "Mr. Davies, you're being accused of domestic abuse and sexual assault, which could land you up to five years in prison. I don't see how you're not taking this seriously."
Jonathan scoffed, again putting up his facade of fake sassiness. It looked stupid on him, a man that looks like a hardened criminal acting like a teenage girl. It was ridiculous. "Because I didn't do anything wrong, sir." He said condescendingly. "I don't see how you're not taking this seriously."
"We also have your criminal record to consider..." Mr. Dayton interrupted, "two counts of petty robbery, four counts of both aggravated assault and disorderly conduct, two DUI's..." he paused, as if letting it sink in, taunting Jonathan, "I could see how a boyfriend with anger issues and a history of getting into fights with a drinking problem would want to take that out on his innocent girlfriend, don't you, Mr. Davies?"
When Jonathan was silent, he continued. "Mr. Curtis, on the other hand — the man Mr. Hames claims has been hitting Ms. Curtis — has a clean record." He flipped through the file in his hand. "Not a violation in sight."
I glanced over at Mr. Hames. He fiddled with his pen, chewing the inside of his cheek nervously, and I let myself smile.
Mr. Dayton went on. "As we see on Ms. Curtis' medical record, and as confirmed by Mr. Curtis, she had a severe loss of appetite and therefore starved herself. Considering that, during this time, she was also diagnosed with a mild concussion, which is only two days after September 20th, the day you walked into the diner with a knife..." he paused, again flipping through his file.
"What I'm trying to get at here is that many times we see vicitms of trauma — whether physical or mental — suffer severe loss of appetite. Other symptoms of PTSD can include avoidance and withdrawl, explaining why Ms. Curtis was so distant from her family during her relationship with you." He paused. "So, Mr. Davies, considering all of this, are you telling me that you are not the cause of said trauma?"
Jonathan stood up almost instantly, his chest heaving in anger. He raised a cuffed hand and pointed a finger at me. "She lies! I ain't never touched her, ya hear? Never! You think I did, you're nuts, you—"
An officer came and dragged him from the stands, and a loud murmur crawled across the room.
Mr. Dayton turned towards the judge. "No further questions, Your Honor."
He sat back down, and Jonathan was led back to his seat. Mr. Hames looked confident, his back straight and posture stiff as a board, yet it was almost too much, like he was trying to cover up his nervousness. It was all ridiculous, but I was still scared out of my mind. It wrestled with the odds — four claims against one, eighty percent versus twenty percent, facts versus outbursts...yet all it took was one jury member to have something against me, against someone I know, and it's over.
I kept my head down, taking deep breaths to ease my shaking. The judge called for order, and once everyone was quiet, he spoke up.
"We will adjourn for a brief recess while the jury deliberates."
I snatched my head up, watching as the jury stood up and left the room. Though a few people stood up to talk quietly or use the restroom, I found myself cemented in my seat, my brothers not moving an inch either.
It wasn't until I heard a small, "Hey," did I finally look up.
Johnny was standing at the end of the bench in the aisle, Two-Bit and Steve next to him. Without a second thought, I stood up and stepped out into the aisle, letting him wrap me in a hug.
"You did great." He said once we separated after a few seconds.
"Yeah," Steve remarked from beside him, "I liked the part where you told off Mr. Jacka—"
"Language, Steve," Darry warned from behind me, "we're in a courtroom."
"Aw, c'mon," Steve complained, "just 'cause the judge is stuck up we gotta behave?"
I heard Darry move closer, lowering his voice to a warning tone. "Listen, the court's already against us. Do you want Jonathan to be locked up or not?"
Steve went quiet as Johnny and I separated. He gave me a crooked smile before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked to my right and saw Two-Bit standing next to me, his lips flattened in a half-smile and a pitiful look in his eyes. "You did good, kid," he said sympathetically.
I gave him a weak smile as Johnny started to speak. "You want us to sit with you?"
I looked behind me towards the rest of those sitting on our bench — a few middle-aged women with their husbands and a couple more with nobody at all. I caught a few of them looking at us, and once I met their eyes, they quickly turned their gazes towards the floor or each other.
I looked back at Johnny. As much as I wanted to say yes, I shook my head. "You better go back to your seat," I said quietly.
I wanted him there — needed him there — but I knew he shouldn't be. Greasers were better spread apart in court, the less, the better. Although my brothers and I didn't necessarily look like Greasers, everybody knew we were, and being with people who did would just make it worse. I could already feel the judgmental stares from those around us, and the last people we needed those from were the jury.
I hated thinking that way, it made me sick knowing I was thinking like the enemy, but Mom always told me that in order to beat them, you have to understand how they think.
Johnny seemed to understand this and nodded before giving me a reassuring smile and wrapping me in another hug, this time for longer. Over his shoulder, I saw Jonathan's eyes unmoving from my own gaze, glaring at me as my arms wrapped around Johnny. Even though his lips weren't moving, his eyes spoke to me in a way that was all too familiar.
So this is the new guy? This is the guy you went to homecoming with? This is the guy you blew me off for? I heard his disgusted scoff in my head.
As much as I wanted to look away and bury my face into Johnny's shoulder, I maintained eye contact, just as I did that Sunday back in September. And it still scared me just as much.
I hope he gets you pregnant, you dumb broad.
Even after Johnny and I separated, I could still feel his eyes on us.
"Hey," Johnny's voice broke me out of my gaze. "It'll be okay. He'll be locked up real soon, don't worry." He gave me a warm smile that eased a bit of the tension in my body. I tried to smile back, but it was weak at best.
When we separated, he gave me a short nod before turning and making his way toward the back of the room with Steve and Two-Bit. It broke my heart, the air around me growing cold, but I quickly snapped out of my daze and returned to my own seat. I somehow ended up between Sodapop and Ponyboy, making me even closer to the defendant's table.
It seemed like hours before the door to the deliberation room opened and the jury stepped out.
They filed in quietly, most of them returning to their seats as the spokesperson stayed standing. My heart seemed to stop as the judge spoke over the microphone, and I felt Soda take my hand while Ponyboy just rested his on my arm. The room fell quiet and still as everyone found their own seats.
The trial was beginning again.
"Mr. Davies, how do you plead?" The judge's voice permeated through the room suddenly once the jury was sat down and the room fell quiet.
Mr. Hames leaned into the microphone. "The defendant pleads not guilty, Your Honor."
The judge nods and writes something down in front of him.
After a few seconds of painful silence, he spoke up again.
"What is the jury's verdict?"
I held my breath, squeezing my eyes shut as I awaited the jury's answer.
Even with my eyes closed and a good distance between us, I could feel Jonathan stir. So he's nervous too, I thought, good.
This was it. Months of pain and anger and hurt all came down to this moment. Every time someone told me, "he'll be locked up, don't worry," were they right?
"The jury finds the defendant guilty of one count of sexual assault, domestic abuse, and aggravated assault."
My face froze in shock. Was this real?
"Very well," the judge said, "Mr. Davies will be sentenced to two years in state prison with the possibility of parole."
It was as if the weight of the world fell off of my shoulders as I finally realized that, yes, this was real. Jonathan was going to prison. He was going to be gone from my life. Only for two years, but that was enough. Enough to heal me and enough to break him.
I felt my eyes widen and my lips curl into the widest grin. I looked up, turning my head to look at my brothers to see the same expressions of shock and joy.
The judge struck the gavel. "Court adjourned."
I stayed glued to my seat in shock, not moving until everyone around me started to stand up. Soda was the first to get up, a grin wider than the Pacific plastered on his face. He practically picked me up out of my seat and wrapped me in a hug so tight I could barely breathe.
"He's gone, Cary!" He said into my ear. "He ain't gonna hurt you no more."
When he let me go, Darry's eyes from behind him caught my eye. They weren't icy cold, but warm, as if it were a sunny day on the beach. A smile crawled across his face as he looked at me, and he pushed past Soda to give me a hug, too.
When we separated, he opened his mouth to say something, but just kept it agape as if in pleasant shock. He smiled at me again, and I felt someone's arms wrap around me from behind.
"Looks like you and Johnnycakes ain't got nothin' to worry about now," Ponyboy joked softly, though I knew it wasn't a joke.
I smiled wider than I had in a while and turned around to give him a real hug. "I guess not."
We all found our way through the crowd and out of the courtroom, where Johnny was leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets, Two-Bit and Steve next to him.
I practically ran up to him, and when he saw me, a smile and bright eyes lifted his face and his arms opened. I threw my arms around his neck, his wrapped around my waist. We squeezed each other tight — so tight that neither of us could really move. But it felt good like that.
After a little bit, I picked my head up and looked him in the eyes. They were smiling, dancing giddily as our faces were mere inches apart. Without a second thought, I leaned forward and kissed him, ignoring the small pit in my stomach that couldn't seem to go away. His lips loosened it a bit, and when we pulled apart, his cheeks were red as cherries and he looked down at the floor, embarrassed.
"Eugh," Steve complained, "get a room."
"Oh, like you don't make out with Evie ever," Soda shot back at him, putting him in a headlock, his goofy grin not leaving his face.
"It's different when someone else does it," Steve said, rolling his eyes.
Soda playfully punched him in the arm, Steve coming back with a fist to the stomach, but their wrestling was abruptly interrupted by a sudden, strained yell.
The people in the hall parted like the Red Sea and grew scarily quiet. The sounds of handcuff chains echoed, and I froze, my eyes widening as the source came into view.
His eyes were as sharp as daggers and as hot as fire, pinching memories still too painful to remember.
"Cary!" Jonathan's voice roared. "Cary, you slut!" He struggled against his restraints as the bald-headed officer leading him yanked him back.
"Shut up and stop restraining!" The officer barked, but Jonathan didn't listen.
Darry stepped in front of me and Johnny, his eyes as cold as ice as he stared at Jonathan, but that didn't stop him.
"I'm comin' for you, ya hear? I'll be out one day."
Johnny pulled me in closer as he continued to shout, the blood draining from my face.
"Two years, Cary. Ya hear? Two years!"
I could feel the whole court's eyes on me, and I turned my head toward the wall to face away from their pitiful gazes. I wished they would stop looking.
"Don't listen to him, Cary," Two-Bit said quietly, "he's just looking for attention."
If only you knew what I knew. I thought. Jonathan didn't always follow through with his words, but he meant what he said.
I was brought back to that September Sunday when his hand was around my throat, my back pressed against the wall. I hope he gets you pregnant, you dumb broad. I squeezed Johnny harder as I longed to bring myself back to reality, back to the present, back to him.
He squeezed me back, and a gentle hand on my shoulder made me look up suddenly. Darry looked at me kindly, a gentle filter on his eyes covering the anger underneath.
"He's exactly right. Two years." He gave me a small smile. "He'll be locked up for two years."
His words assured me little.
I stayed there, standing in Johnny's arms, for what I wanted to be forever. If I never left him, Jonathan could never hurt me.
A mix of emotions stirred inside me: anger, hurt, frustration, fear, sadness...
When will it end? I thought to myself. The one thing that I thought would end all of that — the trial — ended up only making it worse.
I was doing just fine holding my emotions down before today. But, just as most things are, my relief was swept out from under my feet and I was again laying on the cold pavement. Alone. Scared.
The only thing that held me together in that moment was Johnny. He didn't let me go, holding me tight as if desperately trying to pull my broken pieces back together. If I didn't have him, I don't know what I'd do.
I could only hope he wouldn't be taken from me, either.
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I decided to post this one today since I took so long to post the last one lol.
DISCLAIMER: I have no idea how court works and basically everything I've written about is from very brief research or what I've seen on TV (😂), so don't take anything that happened in this specific trial to be real. I mostly researched how it worked and then made it work for my story for ✨drama✨ purposes.
Anyways, enjoy.
Love y'all. Stay gold.