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jennaferz

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Deni could feel her face blanching, every drop of blood draining from it.

She couldn’t turn, she couldn’t look at him, she could only hear those words in her brain.

Taylor Green.

Taylor Green.

Taylor Green.

“That isn’t true,” he whispered from beside her, his hand tightening around hers. Almost subconsciously, she withdrew her hand from his. Still she refused to look at him. “Deni, you have to believe me. I would never--how can you think--”

She shook her head shortly. At the head of the courtroom, the judge had risen to his feet and was pounding the mallet onto the desk once more, shouting words that Deni couldn’t hear, she could only see his mouth moving furiously, could only feel Taylor’s breath on her cheek as he tried desperately to explain, but suddenly she was locked in a prison, staring out at something that didn’t belong to her, something she couldn’t hear, something she could only see but couldn’t be a part of.

Finally the words came into her head.

“Is there a Taylor Green here?”

Finally she turned her head. He was sitting there, wringing his hands, and she could see beads of sweat on his forehead. “I didn’t,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I didn’t do it.”

“You need to go up there,” she said, surprised to hear the strength of her voice. “Taylor?”

“Who was that lawyer?” he asked suddenly. “You acted like you knew him.”

She stared at him. “Well…that was Michael. But that’s not important right now. They’re asking for you, Taylor--”

“Michael,” he repeated. “That asshole from fat camp? How is he old enough to be a lawyer?”

She sighed heavily. “The fat camp wasn’t only for teenagers, Taylor. Michael is 23, and his father owns a law firm. He’s had a job set up for him since he was born. But none of this is important right now, you need to go up there--”

“But I didn’t do anything!” he shouted, and every head turned to him.

“Are you Taylor Green?” The judge’s booming voice radiated, hitting the walls, bouncing back, straight into Deni’s ears. Are you Taylor Green? Who was he, really? Was he a murderer? Or was he her Taylor, the one she loved?

Slowly Taylor stood. “Yes,” he whispered. Before he approached the front, though, he turned to Deni. He knelt beside her chair and kissed her. “I want you to know that I love you.”

She didn’t react, only sat there and watched as he walked away. She could see Michael’s scandalized face, could feel Taylor’s lips on hers, could hear those words. I love you. How could he have arranged this murder? He loved her. He didn’t do it, he couldn’t have. Suddenly she knew with all of her heart that it couldn’t be true.

And then she heard his voice, saw him leaning forward to speak into the microphone, and her entire world came tumbling down around her.

“I did it,” he said clearly. “I admit it. I paid Peter Carnegie to kill Deni’s mother.”

Deni’s eyes filled with tears, blurring her vision. Squeezing them shut, she could feel the tears falling anyway, worming their way through her closed eyelids, falling onto her clasped hands. When she opened them, she could see Taylor’s eyes focused directly on her, and she could see clearly that he was crying too.

“What is your relationship with Denise Turner?” Mr. Lake asked, his voice trembling, and Deni knew that he was shaken.

“I was…am…” He hesitated. “I love her.”

“I’m afraid that doesn’t answer the question. What is your relationship?”

He sighed heavily in frustration. “I don’t really know. I mean, I considered myself her boyfriend, but I never really asked her--”

“But if you love her, you want what is best for her, don’t you?”

“Of course,” he whispered. “I would do anything to make her happy.”

“Then why,” Mr. Lake continued, shaking his head, “would you ever kill her mother? Did you believe that would make her happy?”

“No,” he said quietly. “I did that to make me happy.”

“Excuse me?” He was rattled. He could think of no response, except, “It makes you happy to see her pain?”

“No!” Taylor shook his head frantically, still crying. “I…I wanted her to need me. She never acted like she needed me.”

“What is wrong with you?” Mr. Lake whispered.

“Objection!” Michael called out. “Your Honor--”

“Sustained,” the judge said heavily. “Mr. Lake, please rephrase or continue.”

Mr. Lake blinked his eyes a few times, ridding the tears that had sprung into them, and obeyed. “In what sense did you wish her to ‘need you’?”

“I just…she always acted so strong. And I thought, she could live without me, if I ever left. She doesn’t even need me. And so I thought…if something terrible happens, something awful, she’ll need me.”

“Did you never think it could go wrong?”

“I didn’t want to think about that,” Taylor said quietly. “But now that I am, I know…I know that I’ve lost her forever.”

Suddenly the judge picked up the mallet and smacked it down. “The courtroom is adjourned,” he said quietly. “We’ll reconvene Tuesday at eleven.”

Pandemonium broke out, and Deni stood slowly to leave. Before she could, though, Michael ran to her side. “Deni,” he whispered. “Deni, I’m so sorry.”

“You were defending the man who killed my mother,” she whispered, staring at him with eyes that did not recognize. “How could you, Michael?”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I really am. I can’t help who my clients are.” His hand smoothed over her arm, and she shoved him away.

“Get the hell away from me,” she shouted. “I thought you were--God, I don’t even know who I thought you were. I must be the most terrible judge of character in the entire fucking world--”

“I saw him kiss you,” he said quietly. “Taylor, I mean.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” she answered. “I can handle it. I don’t need anybody’s help, especially not yours.”

“Deni, I really am sorry--”

“So is everybody else!” she screamed. “Everybody was so goddamn sorry when my mom died, everybody was so sorry for being assholes to me over the years once I looked good enough for them, and now everybody is going to fucking be sorry about you and about Taylor and goddamnit, Michael, I just can’t fucking HANDLE IT!” She was breathing heavily as she turned away, and she yanked her hand away from his as he tried to take it. “Don’t touch me!”

Storming out of the courthouse, she gulped back tears as the wind whipped her hair around her face. The door slammed twice behind her and she slowly turned.

Taylor.

“I heard what you said,” he said quietly.

“I’m sure everyone did,” she answered coldly. “What do you want?”

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry,” he said cautiously. “If that’s what you’re afraid of.”

“Oh, good,” she replied sarcastically. “The one person who needs to say they’re sorry, and they won’t say it. God, the world is messed up.”

“I am sorry, I just--I just don’t want to piss you off any more than you already are.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “That’s a little bit impossible right now.”

“Deni, I do love you. I always have,” he whispered. “And I’m so damn sorry. I just--everybody’s human, right? Everybody makes mistakes.”

She stared at him in horror, disbelief, and let out a humorless laugh. “Mistakes? You kill my mother and you call that a mistake?”

She started to turn away, then stopped. Slowly she turned back to face him. “Taylor, I don’t want to hear from you ever again. I want you to stay away from me. Don’t expect me to visit you in jail, either. And once you get out--if you get out--don’t you dare come visit me.” She was breathing heavily. “I can’t forgive you for this.”

“Fine!” he shouted. “Don’t forgive me! I don’t goddamn need you anyway!”

She took three long strides across the sidewalk and punched him in the jaw.

His hand flew up to his mouth. Taking it away, he stared at the blood on his fingers. “What the hell--”

“Don’t you say you don't need me," she interrupted, her tone icy. "Goddamnit, Taylor, you of all people should understand."

"Understand what?"

"Everyone needs to be needed," she whispered. "You killed my mother because you needed it so badly."

She could hear his shaky breath. "Deni, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," she said softly, staring at the ground, "because I've always needed you."

You might have noticed that my new story, Blood-Stained Lace, is up. If you haven't read it yet, please do that. Sorry about the profanity in this one. :] Trust me, it will be the most profane that this story gets. Anywayyy. 20 rates for this one anddd BSL. :]