“So, really, they just have an innocent bystander who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“There’s the tiny matter of you confessing,” he reminds me.
“I was out of my mind with shock. I’ve never seen so much blood before. I panicked and didn’t want to get shot by the cops. That happens a lot here, you know.”
Matteo blinks at me. “That might actually work,” he says, sounding surprised. “If we need to go down that road, I have a strategy I’m going to try.”
“Care to share it with me?” I ask.
“They have nothing concrete. They have circumstantial evidence at best. I’m going to argue they’ve charged you prematurely. They won’t be able to present probable cause to the judge and he’ll have to throw the case out.”
“Okay, let’s go with that,” I agree.
“They still have the body. What are the chances of them finding your prints on that body?”
“Zero. I never touched him.”
“What about Frankie’s?” he presses.
I recall the events of yesterday, seeing Frankie being grabbed by the guy. I didn’t see her touch him directly. She stabbed him twice but I don’t think her hands ever touched his body or his clothing. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think? We need more than that.”
“He grabbed her. She had a knife in her hand already, and she used it. Once in his leg. Then she spun and hit his neck,” I tell Matteo. “But if you try to use this information to get me off these charges, I will deny it and come after your entire fucking bloodline. I do not want my wife being used as an alternate suspect. I would rather rot in a cell for the rest of my life.”
“Threaten my family again, Emilio, and you’ll need to find yourself a new lawyer,” Matteo warns. “I’m not your enemy here.”
“I know.” I lift a single shoulder. “I just want to make it clear that Frankie is off-limits.”
“I’m aware,” he says.
Twenty fucking hours. That’s how long I’ve been sitting in this shithole cell with a fucker who, at first, wouldn’t shut the fuck up. He quickly learned not to fucking talk to me after I knocked him out cold.
I don’t give a fuck who he is, or who he thinks he is. I have family here. Guys who are loyal to my father and therefore loyal to me. I’ll survive if I have to stay inside. More than that, I’ll probably end up running the joint. Not that I plan on staying here long.
“Lopez.” A prison guard bangs on the metal bars of the cell. “You’re up for transportation to court.”
I get cuffed, both wrists and ankles. I chuckle at the guard. If they think that would stop me from being able to snap their necks, they’re fucking idiots. Of course I keep these thoughts to myself. I’m not going to risk a chance at seeing Frankie.
My wife. I smile. I have a wife.
It still feels like a dream. Apart from theme being in prisonthing. The rest, Frankie being my wife, that’s a fucking dream come true.
I get shoved into a bus along with three other guys, all being transported to the courthouse. Once we’re there, we’re taken to a holding cell.
An hour later, Matteo appears, and a guard escorts us to a room where I’m given some clothes to change into. “Your mother sure does know how to pick a good suit,” Matteo says.
“It’s her job to know it,” I remind him. My mother’s company, Evie’s Vault, has stores across the country, mostly focusing on women’s attire but she lives and breathes fashion.
“Remember, speak when spoken to,” Matteo says.
“Got it.” I nod. “Is my wife out there?” I know I told her to stay home, but I’m anxious to see her too.
“Yes, your whole family is, as well as hers.”
“Full court then.” I chuckle.
“It is.” He nods. “You ready?”