Trigger's Light - Carol Dawn Page 0,29

Hawk, Slim, Rose, Chains, Bella, Brick and about half a dozen more that I’ve never met.

I was surprised when Mason told me the whole gang was coming to show support. My sister was my only family for the longest time. I’m not used to having such a large group of people on my side.

Our mom died giving birth to me and dad died when my sister was seventeen, and I was thirteen. Heart attack. Adelaide was days from turning eighteen. On the day of her birthday, she filed for custody of me.

Since we didn’t have any other family, Ade had already graduated high school, and we were left with enough money to live off of for a long while, it didn’t take them long to assign her full custody.

So, having such a large support group is strange to me, but not unwanted.

“Before we begin, please turn off all cell phones,” A uniformed officer says from the doorway.

Just as I’m checking my phone, the judge walks in, says something I didn’t catch, and sits down.

Crap. I need to pay attention.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Ink whispers from beside me. “You didn’t miss anything.”

I smile my thanks.

“For the record, today’s case is a child custody hearing regarding one-month-old Brendon Michaels,” the judge states. “Let’s start with the plaintiff, Mathea Blakenship. Will you please state your case?”

I take a deep breath and walk up to the podium in front of our side of the seats.

“M..mm.”

My voice is shaking, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to do this. I close my eyes and picture Mason sitting behind me, silently supporting me. I feel his family, our family, surrounding us doing the same.

Then I picture Brendon. I picture what his future could possibly be, and I grow angry. I grow angry at seeing Brendon getting yelled at and smacked around. I see him covered in bruises and telling his teachers that he just fell down.

I clench my fists and open my eyes.

“My name is Mathea Blankenship,” I say, strongly. “My sister, Adelaide Michaels Blankenship, was killed in a car accident one month ago while she was nine months pregnant. She never got to meet her son and never will.

I wish to file for full custody of Brendon because I don’t think he’s safe with his father.”

I can feel my nerves coming back, knowing that Marco is somewhere behind me, listening to every word I say.

“I know for a fact that he was physically abusing my sister,” I continue. “I know for a fact that she wanted to leave him but was too afraid. I also know that she wouldn’t want her son being raised by a man who raises his fist in anger.”

The room is silent as the judge just stares at me.

“Do you have any evidence of this abuse, Miss Blankenship?” she asks.

A tear falls down my face.

“No,” I say. “No physical evidence. But I have seen the bruises on her body with my own eyes. I’ve seen the fear in her eyes. I’ve heard her words. Is that not enough?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss Blankenship. Did Mrs. Michaels ever report the abuse to the police?”

“No,” I say softly.

“Did she ever go to the hospital?”

I shake my head.

“I’m going to need a verbal answer, please.”

“No,” I say.

“Have you ever personally witnessed Mr. Michaels strike his wife or son?”

“No.”

I know I’ve lost. I just know that Brendon is going to go back home with his father, and there isn’t a single thing I can do to stop it.

“Then what brings you to this courtroom, Miss Blankenship?” she asks. “You come to me with accusations that you cannot prove. You expect me to remove that baby from the only parent he has left because of something you don’t have physical evidence of?”

“Yes, your honor,” I say, embarrassed but not backing down.

“I would like the defendant, Mr. Michaels, to please take the other podium,” she says.

I look to my left as Marco stops behind his stand.

“Mr. Michaels, I’m just going to be straight here,” the judge says. “Were you physically abusive toward your wife?”

Marco takes a deep breath and leans in toward his microphone.

“Yes, your honor.”

What? Holy crap. What did he just say?

“Uhm, I’m going to ask you again,” the judge says.

I never did catch her name.

“Did you ever strike Adelaide Michaels? Did you ever raise your fist and slam it against her body? I want you to completely understand what I’m asking before you answer.”

“Yes, your honor,” he repeats. “I have hit my wife many times. I