Aftermath - Ann Aguirre [37]
Mary, I’m in a mood today, aren’t I? I’m going to call the guard and give her this message. I know she reads them, so I’ll also say what a fine, upstanding human she is, and that I love her hair.
Hoping to be free soon.
Love,
Jax
CHAPTER 11
“Have you reached a verdict?”
“We have, Your Honor.”
This is it. Nola Hale doesn’t glance my way or give me any reassurance; she’s convinced we’ve already won. I wish I shared her confidence. But for the last three weeks, I’ve been alone at night, wondering if it’s like Latimer said, and I just wanted the glory for myself. I’m buffer than I’ve ever been, arms tight, six-pack abs. Prison will do that to you because there’s not a lot else to do, especially when you’re in max-solitary for your own protection.
“We find Sirantha Jax not guilty by virtue of Conglomerate v. Kernak.”
Yeah, I killed to save lives. Not even intentionally, as Kernak did, so there’s now another legal precedent. Maybe someday, someone else will find herself in a mess and get out of it because of Conglomerate v. Jax. Somehow the idea doesn’t give me much comfort.
“So recorded,” the bot says.
And that’s all. I feel the sense of anticlimax now. I can walk right out of here into the face of screaming enemies and fangirls, paparazzi who want to take my picture and hope I’ll be the old defiant Jax, but she’s gone forever. Some fissures go deeper than superficial scars, all the way down to my soul.
“Thank you,” I say to Nola Hale. “A lesser barrister would’ve gotten me life in prison instead of an execution.”
“I play to win. Are you ready to face them?”
“Almost. Will you tell me who hired you now?”
“It was Velith Il-Nok,” she says, as if I ought to have known.
That’s true, as March can’t get involved with my defense for obvious reasons. His personal and/or professional involvement would only give the prosecution cause to call for a mistrial. I can see the vids now, whispering of corruption at the highest levels of government and how the Conglomerate is, at base, no different from Farwan at all. They’d lose all the progress they’ve made.
“You did a splendid job.”
“It’s the star in my crown to date. So thank you. I’ll be able to write my own ticket henceforth.” She glances toward the doors; I’ve only come through the prisoners’ entrance before. “We should face them before you lose your nerve.”
Yeah, she does understand. I steel myself as we move toward the exit. Beyond the doors, I hear screaming and catcalls, but once they open, the scene facing us surpasses my wildest fancies. People clog the corridor until it’s impossible to move. They’re red-faced and outraged; others are drunk. One man carries a sign that reads SHOW US YOUR TITS, LOVE, like that’s the only part of my past that matters. But even he’s better than the furious woman in black who is howling, “Kill the bitch!” Audible even over the other shouts.
Kill the bitch. The words echo in my head, in my ears, even after the shots ring out. The crowd tries to scatter, but they’re packed too tight, and people trample one another. Nola Hale pulls me back against the doors. Everything seems too slow and too bright as pain blossoms through me.
I’m hit. I don’t know how bad it is, but from the white- hot burn, I guess it must’ve been a laser pistol. They deploy a Peacemaker unit along with ten guards to clear the hallway so that medical personnel can reach me. Everything goes black and spotty, then the world falls sideways.
Hours later, I wake in a private clinic. There’s a bandage directly over my heart, and at first, I don’t understand the placement. That’s a kill shot. By rights, I ought to be dead, unless I was wearing body armor when I took the hit. And I wasn’t; I was in my street clothes. So what the hell?
“You’re a lucky woman, Ms. Jax.”
The prosecution called me that so much that I tense at hearing it, and I don’t relax until the doctor moves into