3. Knuckles
1322 Words
***six years earlier***
Walking into the room shackled with a guard on either side of me, I was nervous. I was sure there was no way in hell they would let me out early. Sitting at a table in the front of the room were a handful of people, none of them looking happy to be there. Sitting directly in front of them was a table where my lawyer sat and a chair next to him. Which I am sure is where the two guards were taking me. Behind that set, my mother and a few of the MC guys. All on one side. On the other side were Mr. and Mrs. Whiteman and their lawyer. It took a minute for me to walk over to where they wanted me to sit. The whole time, everyone's eyes were on me. It was hard to feel disappointed that the Whiteman's daughter didn't show up. If only she would tell everyone what really happened. It was hard not to be upset about that. But I did my best not to think about it. Her father probably intimidated her or somehow convinced her that his story is what happened. She was probably scared to death of the guy.
Getting to the seat next to my lawyer, the guards removed the shackles, leaving only my handcuffs. When they were done, I sat down, finding it hard not to think of the Whiteman's daughter and how even still, I had a crush on her. "Brandon McConnel, is there anything you would like to say before we get started?" The guy that sat in the center of the table asked, pulling me from my thoughts. I shook my head, "No, sir." He nodded and looked over to the Whiteman's, "Anything you all would like to say?" Of course, Mr. Whiteman stood up. "Yes, actually. I just wanted to say releasing this man would be putting a target on my daughter's head. She is terrified of him so much so she couldn't even bring herself to show up here today....." I had to clench my jaw and force myself to keep my mouth shut.
Actually, the guy was lucky I was still cuffed because I really wanted to get up and finish what I started before I was arrested. But the only lady sitting up front cut him off. "Except that's not true. How about we keep to the facts, Mr. Whiteman? Anything factual you would like to say?" Anger flashed across the guy's face as he turned bright red. The guy was probably having a hard time basically being told to shut up by a woman. To be honest, it was kind of hard not to laugh at him, but at the same time, I was curious as to what she meant. Shaking his head, Mr. Whiteman sat back down in his seat. He was furious, though. The woman nodded. "Good. Now, Mr. McConnel, you have served half your sentence and are up for parole." I nodded. No s**t, lady. "Your crime against a young woman that I wish would have shown up here today. However, she explains in her letter why she didn't, and well, I can't exactly blame her. Now we normally don't read the letters sent to us out loud. We normally would give a copy to your lawyer, but she has requested of us that we read hers out loud for everyone to hear." I glanced at my lawyer, who shrugged. He hadn't known about the letter, and this was obviously not normal. One of the guys pulled out an envelope, pulling a letter from it.
"Please read. My name is Jaylee Whiteman, and I hope that those of you that get to decide Brandon McConnel's fate today actually read this and actually listen. First and foremost, Brandon McConnel is innocent of the charges he was put in prison for. The man that actually committed those crimes. I am sure is sitting in the very room with you. He knows who he is, and he knows he will pay for his crimes one day. But I assure you Brandon didn't do it. I have said from day one. He saved me from being raped, beaten, and possibly killed that night. But nobody would listen to me. I was told I was wrong, and I didn't know what I was talking about because I hit my head. But I know what happened. I remember everything. If it weren't for Brandon, I know I wouldn't have survived. If it wasn't for Brandon, I don't believe I would have gotten the help I needed. I sure as hell wouldn't be the person I am today. I wish I could thank him in person. But even thinking of being in the same room as the man that actually committed the crime scares me. So I am sorry, Brandon, I am not there to speak on your behalf. I am sorry I wasn't at your trial originally. They wouldn't let me. All I can hope now is the truth is finally listened to. As for those of you deciding if Brandon is released today, know if you decide not to let him go home, you are sending an innocent man back to prison for a crime he didn't commit. Thank you, Jaylee Whiteman."
I was shocked. She was on my side. But why hadn't they let her testify at trial? It didn't make sense. If they had, I probably would never have been charged in the first place. My lawyer looked pissed. I wanted to ask him why she was never put on the stand, but that would have to wait for now. The guy in the center of the table pulled me from my thoughts again, his eyes on the Whiteman's. "Anything you wish to say now?" To my surprise, neither of them said anything. Mr. Whiteman looked even more pissed off, though. "Good, because we have already decided based on this letter from the victim herself and the report from the prison. There is no question in any of our minds that Brandon McConnel shouldn't be allowed to go home." His eyes moved to me. "From now on, son, I suggest you try and stay out of trouble." I nodded. "Yes, sir." The members of the board stood, and they all left the room. The guards came over and took the cuffs off me. Looking back at my lawyer, he was happy for me, but at the same time, I could tell he was pissed.
"What happened? Since day one, if she has been saying what really happened, then why wasn't she put on the stand?" He shook his head, "They had her on their witness list all through the trial. They even had her set to get on the stand, but then they pulled her at the last minute. Saying she was unstable. Even had a psychologist say she was not mentally capable of taking the stand." I was now angry as well. They knew if they put her on the stand, she would tell the truth, and that would have gone against their story. "For now, don't worry about it. You are free to go home. We have some paperwork to do before you leave, and you will be on parole for a year or so, but you will do just fine." I nodded and stood up, watching as the Whitemans walked out of the room. Mr. Whiteman was angrily talking to someone on the phone. I couldn't fully hear all of what he was saying, but I definitely heard him call whoever it was a f*****g b***h. My guess was he called Jaylee, which made me angrier. I really wanted to pound his face in, but I had to be good. I didn't want to go back to prison. So instead, I turned my attention to my mom and the MC guys standing there.
- Writer
