Beautiful Creatures Series

Mackenzie sat in the courtroom, listening to the lawyers argue their points in front of a jury and judge. They had slapped Gordon with a murder charge. They were prosecuting him for the deaths of Gorge and Donald Falcone. They might have tried to convict him of Melissa’s as well, but they had nobody and evidence to tie him to that one. The prosecutor was going on and on about the way Gordon was covered in Gorge’s blood.

The defence argued that the only person with hostile intentions had been Donald and his son and that they had been involved in Mackenzie’s abduction. That they were long dead before Gordon found them and that he only got Gorge’s blood on him because he checked to see if he was still alive. That when he determined he was not, he had found Mackenzie and gotten them both out. It was far more likely that Gorge and Donald, being the sociopaths they were, had killed each other before Gordon got there.

But the prosecutor tore apart the defence’s argument by saying if Gordon found them dead, why had he been so uncooperative with the cops refusing to admit he had ever seen them. Mackenzie testified on Gordon’s behalf, but no one took her seriously, the prosecutor claimed she would say anything to protect her lover, and Mackenzie lost all credibility on the stand.

Mackenzie watched as the lawyers presented their closing arguments, and the jury was taken to another room to deliberate. Things were not looking good. Mackenzie wanted to talk to Gordon, but the bailiff handcuffed him and took him out of the courtroom to a holding cell to await the verdict.

Mackenzie paced the court hallways with Katelyn and Aster watching her. It was hours before the jury was unanimous. Court reconvened, and Mackenzie was in the seat right behind the defence table when they brought Gordon back in. The judge prattled on for a bit about the case, and then the juror handed the bailiff a piece of paper, and he handed it to the judge who silently read it and then nodded to the head juror. The man stood up with the verdict in his hands.

“On the count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant not guilty.”

“And on the lesser charge of voluntary manslaughter?” The judge prompted.

“We find the defendant guilty,” Mackenzie felt her heart wrench. Every member of the pack in the courtroom jumped to their feet and started yelling in protest.

The judge repeatedly slammed his gavel on the bench, calling for order. It took a few minutes for the protest to quiet. “Mr. Wilder, you have been found guilty of the manslaughter. As a result, I sentence you to a term of ten years with the possibility of parole after five to be served in a maximum-security prison.”

Everyone started screaming at the judge, and the room filled with security guards trying to get the riot under control. Mackenzie jumped out of her seat and came to Gordon. She hugged him tightly and buried her face in his chest, crying. He held her close and stroked her hair, assuring her it was ok. He would be fine, and that he needed her to be strong.

“You are a mother now,” he said, gazing down at her and wiping a tear from her eye. “You got to be strong. Preston needs you,” Gordon kissed her lips as the bailiff handcuffed Gordon and took him away. Katelyn laid her hand to Makenzie’s back sympathetically.

***

of glass pressed a button to open the door to the visitor’s room. Gordon shuffled inside and spotted Mackenzie and Aster sitting at one of the tables. The guard walked him over and chained him to a bolt-on the floor at the table,

kissed his daughter hello and then Mackenzie. In her arms,

I’m popular; three guys have tried to jump me,” he teased. “I guess I still

that?” Mackenzie snapped,

hand. “Don’t worry about me, beautiful I know how to

what

sneezed, and his face changed. Mackenzie quickly covered him with a nursing blanket to hide the change from

and relaxed when he saw no one looking in his direction. “It’s too risky,” he whispered. “You can’t bring him to the prison anymore. Not until he’s old enough to control it,”

that could be years. He’s not going to

can write to me. I’ll see him when I get out. I would

at all the other convicts and sighed. “I wish we could

these trailers for conjugal visits,” he

trailers are only for married inmates,” Mackenzie

they?” He said thoughtfully. “Well, then I

lit

I can wait five years to hold you again. I know it’s not the wedding you had been hoping and planning for, but I can’t do any better. What do

“I think