Twenty-One

Today is the day. We face my mother in court in just a few hours. Ava and I are getting ready in the bedroom, while Richard takes Emily and distracts her for the afternoon; we don't want her there to witness everything go down, and I don't want her anywhere near my mother.

I ride with Ava while Charles and Lucas ride separately, Mr. Newton already there and prepared, giving me a small glimmer of hope that he is true to all his achievements.

I can feel Ava's tension from next to me. I reach for her hand and squeeze it lightly, not sure who I'm trying to reassure; her, or myself. I feel both of us need the reassurance either way, this has been a long time coming, though from the day I first met Ava and brought her into my family drama, I never imagined I would finally face down my mother.

In court, no less.

Of, course, I had dreamt many times of facing my mother, standing up to her, but I never once thought it would be on legal grounds, knowing my personal, and family, history. Hell, the only time I have stepped foot in court, was when my father was being charged for one of his many crimes.

We finally pull up in front of the court house, cameras and people crowding the car as soon as we stop. Since this is being handled legally, the public has access to some details of the case, and since my mother and I carry a well-known name, it was sure to make front page of the newspaper this morning.

I try and shield Ava as we hurry inside, blinded by the flashing cameras and deafened by the constant screaming line of questioning.

If Ava's parents don't know where she is, they certainly do now. I should have known this was going to happen, but it was the last thing on my mind these past few days, leading up to today.

I can feel her trembling slightly under me, and I know no amount of hugs or love will calm her.

She won't calm down.

Not until this is over.

***

As we sit outside the court room, awaiting instructions, I dwell over the conversation I had with Amber's father outside my office. Pondering who the new buyer could be. Who in their right mind, would be interested in such a corrupt company?

Every politician in the country came to mind, but none of them could possibly have any interest in my father's measly insurance company, which was just a front for his real dealings behind closed doors.

Multiple drug, weapon and merchandise deals, all made through the company under my father himself. He mainly made deals with the mafia, sometimes dipping his fingers into lowly streets gangs as well, anything he could do, for the large sums of money he had received.

When I made these discoveries, they made me sick to my stomach. I know I don't have a clean track record myself, and I will live with that guilt for the rest of my life.

But I knew something had to be done. My family has caused too much chaos over time. It needs to end.

Hopefully, whoever this new buyer is, they have better intentions in mind. Like Amber's father.

I glance towards Ava, who is staring blankly at the white wall in front of us. I can see the thoughts rushing through her eyes as she flips over everything that is about to happen in her head.

I want to ask her what she thinks about the new buyer, who she might think it is. Before I can open my mouth, the front doors of the courthouse bang open, and my mother strides in, two burly looking men following her.

My face instantly turns into a sneer before I feel the rage build in my chest at the sight of her. She stalks past me without a mere glance my way, heading straight into the court room.

Ava lets out a heavy breath next to me, and I'm instantly reminded that she hasn't seen my mother in quite some time, and the last time she did; it wasn't under great circumstances.

I reach for her hand again, out of instinct, and feel the tremble.

"It's alright, she can't hurt you anymore," I whisper, trying to calm her nerves in any way. Ava takes a deep breath and grips my hand tighter. Once my mother is inside, Mr. Newton tells us we can take our seats as well.

Charles and I sit with Mr. Newton, while Ava and Lucas sit behind us, waiting for when they are called to the stand. I don't dare look at my mother, though I can feel her stare burning a hole in the side of my face.

I know, one look at her, and I'll lose control. I already hate the fact that she is so close to Ava, she is practically breathing the same air as her. If I see that smug look on her face, I'm not sure where my hate will take me.

The judge takes his seat and draws the room to silence, reading out the court case and details out loud for everyone to understand, before asking for the prosecutor's opening statement. Mr. Newton clears his throat and rises, all the poise and grace of a dancer as he walks to the center of the room, but the look of raw determination and wit, as he stares down my mother and her lawyers.

He reads his opening statement, leaving no detail unsaid of the dastardly deeds my mother has performed; on her own, and towards her family, over many years. I continue to watch the jury, gauging their reactions. Most of them, you can tell this isn't their first time appearing in a jury; their stone-cold poker faces give that much away.

But there are some that give subtle or large reactions, allowing me to tell what our angle is. I have a vague idea by the time Mr. Newton is done speaking, and it's the defense's turn to give their opening statement.

A tall, lanky man steps into the center of the room to address the jury, holding a flimsy piece of paper in his slightly trembling hands. He looks like if a gust of wind blows through the open windows, he will topple over.

"Marion Bradford is a loving mother of two healthy and successful men, born into a corrupt family," the man starts off, setting a thick tension over the room.

Where is he going with this? Are they really going to try and make my mother out to look like a fucking saint?

I clench my fists to contain my mix of anger and confusion, while my mother's lawyer continues.

"Dennis Bradford, father of Charles and Ashton Bradford, and husband to Marion Bradford, is a man of many corruptions, all led through his supposed legitimate business. It was brought to light in past years, that the business was used to run rather illegitimate gang businesses."

I glance at my brother, who shares an equally confused and concerned look, listening intently to what is being said. The past of our family has not been spoken of in public, since the months it had made headlines in every newspaper in the state of New York.

I can feel the tension from the crowd behind rise, suffocating the air around me. A ball of panic starts to form in my chest, imagining all the people staring at me, pointing fingers, pulling their kids away or crossing the street. I endured that behavior for months on end, and I barely understood what was going on.

It was all due to my mother and father. Mostly my father, but my mother had been well aware of what he was doing, and she sat by and let it happen.

I'm curious to see how she is going to dig her way out of this.

"Marion, though aware of the things passing through her family's business, had no control over anything, and was a prisoner in her own home. Threatened by the man she thought once loved her, and forced to do what any mother would do to protect her children.

"We are here today, because those children that she went above and beyond to protect, including breaking the law for them, are trying to take what little she has away from her," the man pauses and looks straight out into the crowd now; where Ava is seated.

"Even her own grandchild."

Everything in me seizes, and I see red. No one has any time to react, before I jump over the table and make a lunge at the lawyer.

To my saving grace, my brother seems to have quickened his reflexes over the years, from his usual lazy self, and reacts in time to grab me before I make it across the room.

"Ashton, no! Calm down, mate!" he yells in my ear, but I don't hear him. I have been holding in my anger since my mother first walked in here, and what she had her lawyer say sent me over the edge.

Nothing is going to calm me down.

Or so I thought, until I feel a gentle hand on my arm, and warmth spreads through me instantly, calming the rage enough for the red to disappear. I look down and see a concerned Ava, with tears in her eyes.

I relax and pull her into my arms, gripping her so tight I'm afraid I'll break her, but she doesn't resist or struggle, instead hugs me back just as tight.

"Alright, I think we have heard enough for now, let's take a short recess and allow everyone to calm the hell down," the judge says and bangs his gavel, before quickly shuffling out a back door. The jury soon follows after, and everyone else slowly disperses back into the hallway.

I continue to hug Ava until I can feel almost everyone has left the room, before pulling away. I look around, and my eyes instantly land on my mother, who is glowering at me from the other side of the room.

"This is not going to end well, Ashton, and you know it," she says. "You are causing more heartache than you are victories for anyone."

"Seeing you behind bars once and for all, getting what you finally deserve, will be more than enough victory to last me a life time." I don't give her a chance to say anything more, and grab Ava to leave the room.

Charles and Lucas stay behind for a few moments, to make sure my mother or her team of lawyers doesn't follow us.

After about 10 minutes, everyone is called back inside. This time, the jury does not come back out, only the judge does, taking everyone by surprise. My mother is the first to speak, "Your Honor? When will the jury be joining us?" she asks.

"They won't be," he says, not looking up from his desk.

The look of terror on my mother's face, though fleeting, does not go unnoticed. She relied on that jury, for them to listen to her story of woo, and feel sympathetic towards her. Take her side, as a broken mother, just trying to keep her corrupt family together.

Now, there is only one person to listen to her, and something tells me he isn't easily as fooled. At least, I'm praying to God he isn't.

"After looking over this case a bit more in my chambers, I have decided that it doesn't require a jury. I've seen many cases like this, Ms. Bradford."

"I-I'm sorry, your Honor?"

The judge frowns and finally looks at my mother. "I have no doubt that as a mother, you had some decent intentions when you supposedly 'blindly helped' your husband with his many misdemeanors, but that doesn't do you very much justice."

It's so hard not to burst out laughing at the astonished look on my mother and her lawyer's faces. Even I wasn't expecting that from the judge, and it makes me curious as to where his sudden change of heart came from. Usually, a judge remains bias until all evidence has been served.

We've only made the opening statements, not even a witness has been called. So where is this slight hate being fueled from?

"Excuse me, your Honor?" I ask. "Do you mind me asking your name again?"

"Honorable Judge Cane," he says, and the name instantly rings a bell. "I believe we have met before," he adds, before I can piece it together. The memory floods back to me, of when my father was first convicted and brought to court, I met a man outside the courthouse when it was all over, and my father was sentenced to life in prison.

A man approached me on the steps, and asked what was wrong. I told him what had just happened with my father, and he confessed he had been in the room. I remember I asked who he was, and he said he was learning to become a man like the one who put my father away, a man who puts bad people away, so that good people can live good lives.

I remember, he had been talking about me and my brother. Everyone now knew what we had endured under our parents, and though they feared us, we were children, and everyone sympathized with the terrible upbringing story of a child.

That man, was Judge Cane.