Ezra was slowly improving, although he still hadn't woken up. The doctors seemed hopeful about a full recovery but the injured agent was still being observed continually in ICU.After going outside to get some fresh air, Chris was walking back along the hospital's corridor when he stopped dead in his tracks. Marty was heading straight toward Ezra's room.
"What the hell do you think yer doin'?" the blond yelled and ran forward, his sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor as he did so. He caught hold of the other man before he could get anywhere near his ex-partner.
"I've come to see Ezra, of course," the man replied in a matter- of- fact tone, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.
The blond stared at him in disbelief and felt his anger gathering. "You're the one who damned well put him in here. You think he's gonna want to see you, you fucking bastard?" Chris asked as he pushed Marty back forcefully, making the man stumble in order to regain his balance.
"Of course he will. He loves me."
"Not anymore he don't. I'm arresting you for what you did to him. How dare you turn up here as if nothing's happened and expect him to take you back," Chris ranted.
Marty ignored Chris totally. "Is that bastard Wilmington with him?" He then turned to face Ezra's room and yelled, "Wilmington? You'd better not have been fucking Ezra. You'll pay for taking him away from me. He's mine, you hear me? Mine."
"He ain't yer damned chattel and no one took him away. You drove him away 'cause of the way you treated him. Buck's just been helping him out."
"Yeah, and I know exactly what he's been helping him with," Marty sneered. "He's been screwing him, I know it."
"You don't know nothing," Chris snarled.
Marty turned in an effort to escape when Chris produced some handcuffs, but the man ran straight into Josiah, who had heard the disturbance and come to lend a hand. The profiler had just arrived to take over nursing duties but had seen the scuffle in the hallway and had run to intervene. He knew that Chris was on the verge of letting go of the tenuous grip on his temper, so he wanted to act before that happened. The big man got hold of Marty roughly and kept a grip on him as Chris quickly cuffed him.
"How about picking on someone yer own size, Marty?" Josiah asked as he shook Marty angrily. "I'm more suitable than Ezra and I'd damned well give you a taste of yer own medicine if I weren't a law-abiding citizen." Josiah turned to Chris. "I'll take him, brother, while you tend to Ezra. I'll come back later to relieve you, if you can cope for the moment."
"Thanks, big guy. Can you tell the others that we've caught him too?"
"Sure."
Chris hurried into Ezra's room and saw Buck standing over the injured man trying to calm him down. Ezra had heard Marty's voice and had become very agitated. The man was tossing and turning on the bed and moaning continually in distress.
"Lay still, Ez. You'll hurt yerself," Buck ordered as he gently held the man down until he'd subsided.
"Guess you know who turned up then," Chris said quietly as he took a seat by the bed again.
"Yeah, couldn't help but hear him, pard. Ez recognized his voice and went ape even though he ain't awake properly. Guess that bastard can get to him even when he's unconscious."
"Well, Josiah's taking care of him so he won't be treated too kindly. You heard what he said about you, did ya?" Chris asked as he wondered how Buck had reacted to the words.
"Yeah, I heard. His mind's twisted, pard. I won't take no notice and I certainly ain't telling Ez what he was insinuating," Buck replied, unaware that Ezra already knew of Marty's suspicions in that respect.
Chris scowled and stared down at Ezra. "Do you want me to get the doctor to take a look at him?"
"No, he'll be okay. Just overdid it a bit but he's calm now."
The two men settled down, and several hours later, Ezra woke properly and stared up at the blond dizzily.
Chris leant forward in his chair and smiled in welcome. "Hey there, Ez. I'm afraid that Buck's eaten all the grapes while we've been waiting for you to wake up properly. Been waiting a long time, son."
"Hate grapes," Ezra muttered, still not totally awake. "Thank you for sparing me from them, Bucklin."
"Yer welcome, pard," Buck grinned. "How ya feelin'?"
Ezra gasped as he moved too quickly. "I hurt."
"Dare say ya do. You took a nasty beating," Chris said sympathetically as he patted the man's hand gently.
"Has he come?" Ezra finally asked when he'd come to his senses completely. He was totally unaware of his semi-conscious panic earlier in the day when Marty had turned up.
"Yeah, but we arrested him. We'd been searching for him all week and then he had the gall to turn up here today. That was the last thing I expected him to do, but I guess you knew better." Chris sighed. "You do want him charged for what he did to you, don't you? He'll only go and do it to someone else," Chris said quietly.
Ezra was silent.
"Ez?"
"I need time," the undercover agent mumbled as he clutched the sheet in agitation.
"Time for what?"
"Gaining some courage. I'm not sure that I can face going to court over this."
Chris moved so that he was sitting on the bed. "Next time he could kill, Ez. Hell, he very nearly killed you."
"Chris? Leave it, pard," Buck instructed as he put a hand on the blond's arm. Ezra didn't need to be upset right now and that was the way he was heading. The man had, after all, only just woken up and was still very sick and could do without the added pressure being put on him by the blond. "Try not to fret about it now, Ez. Marty's in custody and he ain't getting out on bail. Get some sleep and I'll be here if ya need to talk."
"Ez? You okay?" Chris asked as he saw the smaller man pale, knowing he shouldn't have tried to get an answer from the man at such a time.
"I hurt," he repeated with a loud groan.
"Yeah, I know ya do," Chris said as he ran his fingers though Ezra's hair gently.
"How long do I have to stay here?"
"Another week, but it'll be at least a month before you recover properly after the surgery you've had."
"Ez? Come on, no more talking. Yer exhausted, pard," Buck said as he indicated for Chris to leave.
The blond nodded and stood up before leaving the room.
"Now close yer eyes and relax, Ez," Buck ordered quietly as he ran his hand over Ezra's cheek and then through his hair. The ladies' man kept up a quiet stream of words and watched in satisfaction when Ezra finally fell asleep. Buck then stood up and joined Chris in the hallway.
"He okay?" the blond asked worriedly.
"Yeah, he's sleeping," Buck replied as he leant back against the wall, feeling exhaustion creeping up on him. He was finding the whole situation emotionally draining.
"Do ya think he'll go through with standing up to Marty?"
Buck shrugged and fixed Chris with a meaningful stare. "Don't know, pard, but I don't want you forcing his hand on this. It has to be his decision in the end."
"I know, but what will happen if he let's Marty walk? Marty won't forgive him for running out on him," Chris pointed out. "He'll react twice as bad as last time if he gets his hands on Ez again."
"There are restraining orders, pard."
"Yeah, and how fucking successful are they?" Chris asked sarcastically as he scuffed his foot angrily against the floor.
The ladies' man put out a gentle hand and lay it on Chris's forearm. "Don't jump the gun, Chris. Ez ain't even made up his mind yet. Give him time to come to terms with what happened."
"I will, but this whole situation has just made me so angry that I want to see that bastard behind bars for what he's done." Chris sighed. "Look, I promise I won't pester Ezra to make up his mind, but we can only hold Marty in custody for so long, you know?"
"Yeah, I know but we can release him on bail and get him back again if we need to. Look, I'll see ya tomorrow, pard. I'll be okay on my own until Josiah gets here and I'll let you know if Ez tells me what he wants to do."
"Sure. Thanks for taking care of him, Bucklin. Now I remember why I chose you for a friend all those years ago," Chris said as he patted Buck's back and headed out to the Ram.
Buck smiled in thanks and went back to sit with the injured man. He picked up the book that he'd been reading previously and flicked through the pages until he found the place he needed. He took a sip of water from the glass on the nightstand and then settled back to read about the exploits of Bilbo Baggins.
Ezra woke again several hours later and groaned loudly as he accidentally touched his stomach. Buck immediately put down his book and smiled at his friend.
"Hey pard. Feelin' any better?" the ladies' man asked kindly.
"No."
"Ain't surprised."
Ezra looked round the room and frowned. He knew that there had been someone else beside him earlier but he couldn't quite remember who. He lay quietly for a minute and finally recalled that the other visitor had been his boss. "Where's Chris?"
"I sent him home."
"Any reason?" the undercover agent asked curiously as he scratched his chin.
The tall man stated quietly, "I didn't want him bugging you about Marty."
"Oh, I see," Ezra whispered. The undercover agent then looked at Buck seriously. "I want to go ahead with charging Marty. I'll see him in court."
Buck nodded warily. "Yer sure?"
"Yes, I won't change my mind," Ezra replied in quiet defiance as he held his friend's gaze.
The ladies' man nodded when he was sure that Ezra meant what he said. "Okay, bud, I'll let Chris know. You've done the right thing, Ez, so don't ever feel guilty about this."
+ + + + + + +
Buck took Ezra back to the condo once he was released from the hospital. The undercover agent had healed pretty well, all things considered, but he was still on strong medication. His abdomen continued to trouble him most of all and he seemed to have a hand permanently clamped to the tender area. He had to be very careful what he ate because his intestines couldn't handle all the foods that he liked at the moment. He tended to eat things like soup simply because they suited him best.
The ladies' man escorted his friend inside the loft and put his bag of clothes straight in JD's room. "Yer gonna stay here 'til the trial, pard. Now, anything I can get ya?"
"No, thank you," Ezra said as he lowered himself gingerly onto the chair in the kitchen. He rubbed his face and then ran a hand round the back of his neck to ease an ache that had appeared there.
"Do ya feel okay? Still look kinda pale, pard."
"I feel drained of energy and I still hurt," the younger man admitted. He rubbed his stomach and leaned back in his chair carefully, feeling as if his body might break in two if he moved too quickly.
"Yeah, well, it's gonna take time 'til yer back to normal. Just take it easy and don't be too eager to get back to work," Buck said seriously.
"That's hardly likely. I'm obeying Nathan's orders to have a month off. Look, Bucklin, would you mind if I retired to bed? I think I'd be better off being horizontal at the moment," Ezra asked as he slowly rose to his feet feeling like a ninety year old man.
"Sure," Buck agreed as he followed the man anxiously and settled him on top of the bedclothes. He couldn't help but be concerned about Ezra's continuing fragile state.
+ + + + + + +
A couple of days later, Buck wandered into the living room and studied his friend seriously. He could see that Ezra looked highly uncomfortable. The injured man fidgeted constantly as he clenched his jaw and then swallowed quickly.
"Hungry, Ez? What do ya want for breakfast?" the ladies' man asked.
"Nothing, thank you," Ezra mumbled, sounding as though he had trouble even uttering the words.
"What's up?" Buck asked as he reached out a hand and felt Ezra's brow. He didn't think the man had a temperature but Ezra certainly didn't look well. "You sick or somethin', pard?"
Ezra shrugged as he shifted uncomfortably on the seat. "I'm not sure to be truthful. I feel a bit odd, but not exactly sick."
Buck pursed his lips worriedly. "Maybe I'll get Nate to check you out, just to be on the safe side. You don't look real well to my eyes and you sure don't sound right neither," Buck stated as he headed to the phone.
Nathan arrived quickly after hearing Buck's thoughts and he sat beside the injured man and looked at him critically. "Ez? Can you tell me yer symptoms?"
The undercover agent listed his ailments slowly and then Nathan carried out a few tests of his own.
"Has he gotten an infection?" Buck asked nervously from where he was watching.
"No, I think some of the medication is upsetting him. I'll see if I can get it changed to something that he can handle better, but at the moment, I want him in bed."
"I beg your pardon?" Ezra exclaimed at the incongruous words. He was feeling slightly better now that he knew what was wrong with him. "Alone, I hope you mean. I'm not sure that I would welcome you as a bed-fellow. No offense, Mr. Jackson."
"God, Ez, nothing wrong with yer sense of humor. Things can't be too bad, can they?" Nathan laughed. The medic took Ezra into JD's room and settled him in bed. "Now stay quiet and do as you're told. I'll be back with some new medication soon. Are you sure you really feel okay other than that?"
"Just dizzy and shaky but I'm better now that I'm lying down."
"Good."
Ezra grinned. "I'm also immensely pleased that you didn't join me in bed. You really had me quite worried for a moment earlier."
Nathan made as if to hit the man and then left the room laughing.
+ + + + + + +
Ezra's condition improved on his new medication but Buck could see that the man was deeply troubled about his upcoming trial. The undercover agent was eventually allowed to return to work but he found it hard to concentrate on anything because of his fears. All his friends noticed his preoccupation so Chris finally decided to have a serious talk with the man.
"Ez? Can I have a word?" the blond called from his office.
The younger man wandered through to Chris's room and sat down on the couch, where the blond joined him.
"We've all noticed that you ain't very happy, Ez. Do ya wanna talk about it?"
The undercover agent studied his hands in embarrassment and then shrugged as he shifted on the seat awkwardly.
Chris frowned. "I figure it has somethin' to do with the trial," he stated quietly as he raised his eyebrows questioningly. He watched in concern as Ezra paled and shivered at the words.
"Yes, I know it's stupid but I'm absolutely terrified."
"It ain't stupid at all. It can't be easy going up against a man that you loved but you ain't the one to blame in all this," Chris said as he watched the emotions flicking across Ezra's face like clouds on a breezy day.
The undercover agent kept his gaze down and rubbed a hand over his face nervously. "I'm just so scared of facing him. The more that time passes, the more I feel I should just let it go."
"No, Ez. You've come this far, so please don't give up now. I know it's gonna be real hard for you, but you can't move on if he's still free to do as he pleases, can you? He really could kill someone next time and how would you live with that? It only ever takes one person to have the courage to stand up to a bully like that for them to get their just deserts. I know that you possess that courage, Ez," Chris said as he rubbed his friend's back in encouragement.
"I'm not sure that I agree with you, but thank you all the same," Ezra said, taking strength from the blond's convictions.
The blond kept a hand on his friend's shoulder as they talked. "What is it about the trial that is really worrying you?"
Ezra sighed. "I just can't imagine talking to strangers about what he did to me. I'm a man and I should have been able to cope better. It just seems so weak to admit that I couldn't protect myself and that I was too much of a fool to leave him."
Chris moved his hand to rub Ezra's back again consolingly. "You have left him, so you ain't a coward or a fool. If yer gonna use the argument that a man can cope with anything and shouldn't suffer such abuse, just imagine how a man must feel when he has to admit to being battered at his wife's hands. It happens, Ez, to all sorts of people, so you've gotten nothing to be ashamed about."
"I know that, deep down in my soul, but it's still so hard to accept."
Chris patted Ezra's shoulder in comfort. "We're all gonna be there at the trial, so you ain't gotta face Marty on yer own."
"Thank you. That is what has kept me going, knowing that I have your support. I am blessed to have friends such as you."
+ + + + + + +
The day of the trial finally came and Ezra sat in the hallway waiting for the case to be called. He looked up whenever he heard footsteps heading his way and he resembled a startled rabbit expecting to be caught by a fox. Buck sat beside him for company and both men stood when the time came for them to enter the courtroom. The undercover agent looked up at Buck and shivered, so the ladies' man patted his back and smiled encouragingly.
"We're all behind you in this, Ez. Don't let Marty get to you, pard."
Ezra smiled nervously and entered the court with his lawyer while Buck went to join the rest of his friends. As Ezra sat beside his attorney in the courtroom, he couldn't help but look over at Marty. He could feel the man's eyes boring into him and he just wasn't able to stop turning his head. Marty grinned and Ezra looked away quickly while shivering. The undercover agent felt a gentle hand on his back followed by the sensation of his shoulder being squeezed. He flinched at the unexpected contact and turned round fearfully only to find Chris behind him.
"Sorry, Ez," the blond apologized with a wince when he saw the haunted look on his friend's face. "I just wanted to say that even though Marty's staring at ya, try to rise above his behavior and ignore him. Pretend he ain't there. If it helps, stare at me when ya testify and don't look at him, unless yer asked to. Don't let him unnerve ya," the blond advised, unknowingly repeating Buck's words.
Ezra nodded and smiled anxiously as he turned back to look at the judge. He'd attended many court cases in his capacity as an ATF agent but this was entirely different. He felt like he was standing buck naked in the middle of a room of elderly ladies. He was letting strangers see right into his life and he felt very uncomfortable with that thought. He watched proceedings unfold before him but he really couldn't concentrate on what was going on. He felt apart from it all.
He then heard his name being called and he shook himself back to the moment and stood up to go to the stand. His lawyer took him step-by-step through his evidence, and the undercover agent's gaze kept returning to Chris. When he faltered in his evidence, the blond's eyes steadied him and gave him the courage to continue.
"Mr. Standish? Could you tell us when the violence first started in your relationship with Mr. Lane?" his lawyer, Mr. Richards, asked.
The undercover agent tried to begin talking but his voice cracked, so he stopped and cleared his throat before starting again. "It commenced a few months after I took up residence with him. I really can't comprehend what I said, or did, to make him react with violence, but something angered him and he punched me hard. He only hit me once that first time, but on subsequent occasions the abuse was much worse."
"Can you give an example?"
Ezra flicked his gaze from Chris to his lawyer, then to the jury, along to his friends and back to Chris again. Chris nodded his head to encourage Ezra to speak. The undercover agent hesitated, but finally began talking. "We arranged a barbecue, just for the two of us, and Marty was in charge of cooking. I made a joke, which obviously upset him, and he grabbed my hand and held it palm down on the grill, which was red-hot at the time. He released me fairly expeditiously but I still had to be transported to the hospital to have the burns attended to." Ezra could see the horrified look on Chris's face at the admission. That was one instance of violence that the undercover agent hadn't divulged to any of his friends. They, of course, knew that he'd injured his hand at the time, but he'd, once again, lied about how he'd gained it.
"How many times have you had to seek hospital treatment because of the abuse?"
Ezra did a quick mental count and sighed. "Six times in all."
"Did you never defend yourself?" Mr. Richards asked.
Ezra felt his face turn red. "Yes, I did to start with, but on one occasion when I fought back, Marty broke my collar bone. I soon learnt that it was advisable, and safer, in the long run not to defend myself."
His lawyer nodded and looked toward the jury meaningfully. "Can you describe exactly how he broke your collarbone?"
"He twisted my arm up behind my back and pushed it up as far as he could. He then threw me against a concrete column as he kept hold, and because of the pressure already being put on the bone, it snapped very easily. It broke in five places."
"What injuries did you suffered in his latest vicious attack?"
"Alleged attack," Marty's lawyer, Mr. Bennett, interjected loudly.
"Mr. Standish?" Mr. Richards asked after nodding to his colleague to acknowledge his use of words.
"I had a ruptured spleen, which had to be removed as a result. I also had internal bleeding from various other abdominal injuries as well as a collapsed lung," Ezra replied as he unconsciously rubbed the injured area.
"How long were you in the hospital for?"
"Just over two weeks but it was another month or more before I'd fully recovered from my injuries."
"Thank you, Mr. Standish, no more questions. Your witness," the prosectutor said as he turned to Marty's lawyer with a nod.
The man stood up and wandered toward Ezra like a cat after its prey.
"My client's version of events differs somewhat from yours, Mr. Standish. He said that you started the most recent bout of violence and he was just defending himself when he hit you."
"That is not true. I would never, could never, hit anyone that I loved."
"But you've just told us that you did," the lawyer said sharply.
"I only did so to defend myself and never more than on one or two occasions. I never hit him first, is what I really meant. I loved him," Ezra said, regretting his earlier choice of words.
The lawyer pursed his lips as he wandered to stand in front of the jury to watch their reactions to his next statement. "Now, can I just go back to the barbecue incident that you were talking about earlier? There was no note at the hospital to say that my client had inflicted the injuries on you. According to their records, you said that you fell and accidentally reached out to save yourself but touched the barbecue by mistake."
"That is what Marty told them," Ezra agreed. He knew exactly what the lawyer was trying to do, so he pointed out reasonably, "I couldn't tell them the truth because Marty was there with me, could I?"
"Are you sure that my client's version isn't, in fact, what precisely did happen?"
"No, he held my hand deliberately on the grill," Ezra said insistently.
"What about when you broke your collarbone? Did you not just lose control while skiing and slam into the concrete post? My client has assured me that that is what happened. It was an accident, pure and simple, and it was reported as such at the time."
"No, he broke it deliberately. I had not even been skiing that day because I was feeling unwell," Ezra said insistently as he stared at Chris intently. He could feel that he might lose his temper at the twisting of the evidence but he took a deep breath and gained some stability from Chris. I've really only gotten myself to blame, because as the lawyer says, each incident was reported as an accident at the time, Ezra said to himself with regret. I should have admitted what was going on from the start and then it wouldn't be so hard to prove otherwise.
"All the previous alleged attacks were just accidents too, according to my client. You are now just embellishing your story with these incidents but twisting facts to suit your needs. You're altering reality to make it seem that Marty had been inflicting violence for a long time. In truth, the only real violence occurred during this last incident and you instigated it. My client had turned up to plead with you to go home with him but you refused. He tried to tell you how much he loved you but you hit him instead and pulled a gun on him," Mr. Bennett stated.
"Objection!" Ezra's lawyer said loudly. "Is there a question in there or are you just giving testimony, false testimony at that, on my client's behalf?"
"Sustained," the Judge agreed. "Stick to asking questions, Mr. Bennett, if you please. Your client will get his chance to tell his side of things later on."
Marty's lawyer nodded in agreement but knew that he had done some damage to Ezra's case with his statement and previous questions. "Did you strike my client during the last bout of violence?"
"Yes, I kicked him but only...."
"Thank you, just yes or no will be sufficient. Now, as I said before, my client insists that he was just defending himself. At the time of his final alleged assault, you had obviously decided to end your relationship with him once and for all. You resorted to violence in order to do so. Isn't that true?" the man asked quickly when he saw Mr. Richards on the verge of making another objection because of his sweeping statement.
"No, he hit me. Why was I the only one with injuries..."
"Just yes or no, Mr. Standish," the lawyer interrupted quickly, knowing what Ezra was going to say. "What did you argue about?"
Ezra took a deep breath and tried to show that the man wasn't getting to him. "As you said earlier, I had refused to go home with Marty. He accused me of having an affair, and when I disagreed, it made him angry."
Mr. Bennett flicked through his notes with seeming interest. "The affair was with someone you work with. A Mr. Buck Wilmington, isn't that correct?"
"There was no affair. He is just a very good friend," Ezra said as he clenched and unclenched his fists in agitation. The room was very quiet, which was usual during a court case, but to Ezra it was more like the atmosphere found in a church. A reverend silence, which it seemed sinful to break. Ezra's words seemed to reverberate around him continually and he found it quite unnerving. He usually liked the sound of his own voice, but not today.
"Did you stay overnight with Mr. Wilmington on the day you told Mr. Lane that you were supposedly on surveillance? Why did you lie to him about that?"
Ezra flicked his eyes between his lawyer and Chris before answering. "I needed time to prepare myself for telling him that our relationship was over. Mr. Larabee, my boss, suggested that I tell him that I was on surveillance so that I didn't have to go home that night. Marty had broken my ribs that morning and my work- mates finally found out what had been going on. Buck, Mr. Wilmington, insisted that he wouldn't allow me to return to Marty, so I went home with him instead."
"Really? And what did you do that night?"
"I slept," Ezra answered with a frown.
"Alone?"
"Yes, alone," the undercover agent snapped.
"Were you having an affair with Mr. Wilmington?" Mr. Bennett asked, interrupting Ezra's musings.
"Objection! My client has already answered that question. Can't two men be friends without it being assumed, just because one of them happens to be gay, that they must be having an affair?" Ezra's lawyer asked loudly as he stood up.
"Sustained. Do you have anything new, Mr. Bennett, or are you just going to go over and over old ground?"
Mr. Bennett shook his head and turned back to Ezra. "Mr. Standish, as I have said, your account differs greatly from my client's. If you now realize that you have been mistaken, now is the time to say so."
"The violence happened exactly as I said. I am not lying."
"No, just altering the facts," the lawyer stated wryly as he faced the jury and stared at them sternly.
"Objection!" Ezra's lawyer shouted as he got to his feet once more.
"No more questions," Marty's lawyer said as he sat back down beside his client.
After giving his evidence and being interrogated by Marty's lawyer, Ezra felt mentally and physically drained. He re-took his seat gratefully and heard Marty being called to the stand. Ezra sat up straight but stared at his hands, rather than at the man, as he strode across the floor to give his evidence.
Mr. Richards stood and walked to stand directly opposite Ezra's ex- lover. "Mr. Lane, would you say that you were not a violent person?"
"Yes."
"How can you explain the extent of my client's injuries after the last alleged incident then? Did he perhaps hit himself?" the lawyer asked with a bemused smile and a raised eyebrow.
"He fell against a car."
"Repeatedly? He must have fallen against it a lot to rupture his spleen and do the amount of damage that was inflicted to his abdomen. How do you explain your complete lack of injuries?"
Marty shifted slightly on his seat and seemed uncomfortable. "I learnt self-defense and martial arts and know how to deflect punches."
"Are you saying that my client never landed one punch on your body?" Ezra's lawyer asked as he pursed his lips.
"Yes," Marty replied with a shrug as he raised his eyebrows.
"How fortunate for you," Mr. Richards said wryly. He then began pacing back and forth, stopping in front of the jury before proceeding to stand before Marty again. "You say my client pulled a gun on you? According to the ATF weapons expert, Mr. Standish had handed his weapon in to him for some work to be carried out on it. Does he own another gun? Do you perhaps own a gun?"
"No, I don't know where he got it from."
The lawyer decided to go back to his previous line of questioning. "Can we just discuss my client's accidents again? Let's see, he fell on the barbecue, he fell while skiing, and he fell against a car. He falls rather a lot, doesn't he? How can you explain such clumsiness?"
"Some people are just accident-prone," Marty mumbled.
"Come, come, the man sounds like a walking disaster area. I think the jury can make up their own minds about the circumstances surrounding my client's unfortunate habit of falling and severely hurting himself, don't you?" The lawyer smiled in thanks. "No more questions. Your witness."
Mr. Bennett stood and walked toward his client. "Mr. Lane, you have heard Mr. Standish's evidence, what can you tell me in reply?"
"Ezra is lying because I am the victim in all of this. We had arguments, as all couples do, but up until the last incident there had never been any violence."
"Has Mr. Standish ever reported any abuse to the police before this?" Mr. Bennett asked with interest. He wanted to keep his questions short and to the point to try and make the answers stick in the jury's mind. So far it was one man's word against the other, and he wanted to use this small opportunity to plant doubt about Ezra in the jury's mind.
"No," Marty replied forcefully as he flicked a look at Ezra.
"Why do you think that was?" the lawyer asked as the turned to face the jury. "Maybe because there never had been any prior violence, as my client has just stated on oath. No more questions."
As Ezra sat listening, he turned to watch the jury member's faces to see their reaction to Marty's evidence. The man certainly sounded very convincing and he could see the doubt on the jurors' faces.
After Marty had retaken his seat, Ezra's lawyer studied his notes and called the storeowner who had witnessed Ezra's beating. He smiled at the obviously nervous man in an attempt to put him at ease. He watched quietly as the man swore on the Bible, and then moved to stand in front of him.
"Now, Mr. Cole. Can you tell me about the night you witnessed the fight between Mr. Standish and Mr. Lane?"
The witness sat with fingers intertwined and fidgeted in the seat uneasily, but answered the question forthrightly enough. "Mr. Standish had been in my store buying some groceries. When he left, I heard raised voices outside and I saw a man hit him. I went out to try to stop the fight but the man hit me too. I'm afraid I went back into the store without trying to help further, although I did call the police, for all the good that proved to be. They turned up two hours later."
Ezra's lawyer put his head on one side and asked, "Can you see the man who hit you and Mr. Standish in this courtroom today?"
"Yes, he's over there," the man said as he pointed straight at Marty. "He was very angry and was real rough with Mr. Standish. It was definitely more than a lover's tiff to my eyes."
"Objection, personal opinion," Marty's lawyer shouted.
"I think Mr. Cole is more than capable of telling the difference between a violent fight and a little slap and shouting match, your Honor. He did after all become embroiled in it for a brief time, as he has just told us."
"Overruled."
"Thank you, your Honor." Mr. Richards turned back to his witness. "Now, according to Mr. Lane, my client threatened him with a gun. Did you see him produce a weapon at any time during the fight?"
"No," the man answered firmly. "I watched the whole thing from inside the store and Mr. Standish never drew a firearm. He hardly even defended himself except for the one kick to Mr. Lane's shin."
"Thank you, no more questions," Ezra's lawyer said as he sat down in satisfaction.
The Judge looked at Bennett. "Your witness."
"No questions, your Honor," Bennett replied, knowing he had probably lost the case after that damning evidence. He really couldn't think of anything to ask that would turn the situation back to his advantage. He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers thoughtfully as he looked at Mr. Richards.
As his last witness, Ezra's lawyer called the doctor from the hospital who had treated the undercover agent's injuries. The medical man was very thorough and was adamant that Ezra couldn't have fought back after such a vicious attack. Now that the jury had heard from all the witnesses, it was time for them to make their minds up about what had truly happened.
The jury was sent off to make their decision after the two lawyer's had summed up their evidence. They came back quickly and re-took their seats. The foreman stood up and Ezra felt his skin erupt in goose-bumps as he anticipated what the verdict would be. He couldn't tell just by looking at the man's face whether it was going to be good or bad news.
"Guilty."
That was the sweetest word that Ezra had ever heard. He let out his breath in a whoosh and felt Chris pat his back again, although he didn't turn round to face the man. The undercover agent rubbed his face slowly and felt his hand trembling, so he flexed his fingers to try to stop the movement. Ezra then couldn't resist the urge to look over to where his ex-lover was sitting. Marty looked pale as the verdict sank in, and Ezra couldn't help feeling bad. He still loved the man even after everything that had happened between them. The undercover agent sighed and shook his lawyer's hand gratefully before making his way outside shakily.
"Okay, Ez?" Chris asked when all the men met up outside the courtroom.
Ezra shook his head negatively and sighed. "He can still get to me even now. I feel guilty about getting him convicted. Why should I?"
The blond studied the younger man quietly and then put a gentle hand on his arm. "You have a conscience, Ez. He don't. You loved him, but he abused that love. Don't let him ruin the rest of yer life. You deserve better than him."
Ezra smiled. "Thank you all for helping me during this rather nasty experience." The undercover agent turned to the ladies' man and held out his hand, which Buck clasped strongly in return. "I want to thank you most of all, Bucklin, for making me see sense through all this. I would probably have gone back to him if it weren't for you."
"That's alright, pard. Now, I want you to stay with me for the next few days, or however long you want to. I want you to have company until yer feeling better."
"What about Mr. Dunne? I've deprived him of his home for far too long already."
"Ezra?" JD said from behind. "I'm fine with Chris. There ain't no hurry for me to go home. I'm getting used to the country life and it's great to ride horses whenever I want."
The undercover agent studied the younger man to make sure that he wasn't just trying to placate him with the offer. He could see, though, that it was a genuine offer.
"Thank you, Mr. Dunne. I need to regain my own life again though, so I will stay for one more week and then pick up the pieces of my shattered life. At least, thanks to you all, I have a life to pick up." Ezra smiled and accompanied his friends out of the courthouse to start afresh.
The End