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Chapter One Hundred-Ninety-One
Point of View: Narrator


"This court will reconvene tomorrow at 9:30 AM..."

And the gravel hit the podium.

Nick had been gathered up and led away promptly to a cell, where he was given dinner and left alone in the dark. He picked at the food, but he wasn't really hungry and as a result the warden that came by to pick up the tray clucked his tongue and shook his head, "You're gonna be awful hungry, boy," he stated as he disappeared with it.

Nick didn't really care. His mind was too busy thinking about Krystal. For the first time in the last couple months it had really, deeply struck him that she was gone. For the last several years, Krystal had been his best friend, his confidant, his world. He leaned against the wall of the cell and closed his eyes and watched images move through his mind of red umbrellas and big galoshes and running trails of paint. He could almost smell the acrylics and the gloss that her studio apartment had reeked of the first few times he'd gone over, and of the day she first sang for him, with the paint on her nose and that one piece they'd hung on the wall... and giggled when people commented on it... for they had no idea what it really was a picture of.

He wondered if Peggy knew where that piece was, if she'd give it to him if he asked. It would mean nothing to her... but everything to him.

Nick rocked himself on his heels and waited. What for, he didn't know, but it felt appropriate to wait. Part of him hoped he'd have some kind of crazy, out-there ghostly vision so he could say he was sorry to her for letting her go that night... the other part of him knew he wouldn't.



Dirk's phone rang about an hour after Judge Heath had released them all from the court room. He and Kevin and Howie were at a bar for a couple drinks after the stressful day, crowded around a heavy wood table, beers in their palms.

"You were fucking amazing," Kevin was telling Dirk, "This man.." he slapped Dirk's shoulder, "This guy right here is the best fucking lawyer in the United States." He grinned at his old friend.

Howie laughed, "That was really impressive, Mr. Bentley," he agreed, then, with a wink, "You ought to help me out in my business endeavors sometime."

"Anytime," Dirk cheesed. "But if I get your buddy off the hook, I may just be too busy for stuff like that for awhile..." he laughed.

Kevin smirked, "Ah, it's going to his head already, I see..."

Dirk's cell phone vibrated against his glass and he snatched it up - "Ah they must have Leon..." he grinned and answered it quickly, "Bentley here." Kevin and Howie talked quietly while Dirk listened to the person on the other end. But when Dirk's voice changed and he said, "You what?" Kevin looked up and saw his friend's face was paleish. "Yeah, thanks for letting me know."

When Dirk hung up, Kevin asked, "What's wrong?"

"Leon got away."

Kevin groaned.

"He forgot his wallet though," Dirk smirked.

Howie laughed, "Well, at least you have proof he was there."

"Yeah but Lord only knows where he is now," pointed out Dirk.

Kevin's eyebrows stitched together. "Great, the slimeball and his girlfriend are both missing. Peachy keen."



"...and the sister's like the center vortex that connects it all..." Brian was telling Leighanne about the court session that night as they lay in bed. Brian's ear was against her stomach and he was grinning, slowly stroking her tummy. "But Dirk just crashed through it, like he was - I dunno, the Incredible Hulk or something."

"All green and shirtless?" Leighanne teased.

Brian grinned. He sat up, "So then they plated Desi's cell phone message... and..." Brian shook his head, "I don't see how anyone could possibly think he's guilty now." He leaned forward and kissed his wife softly on the lips... then the kiss deepened. He leaned into her. "Honey," he mumbled, "Can we celebrate?"

"Last time we celebrated we made this," Leighanne commented running her hand over her still-smooth belly. "Remember?"

Brian kissed her again. "But it's not like we can add buns to the oven, so we might as well have a field day, right?" He grinned.

"Brian Thomas Littrell," Leighanne whispered, "You are a dirty old man."



Kayla and Zoe arrived home and Kayla was practically floating on air. She ran upstairs to work on her journal for Dr. Haseltine and Zoe could hear the sounds of the Millennium CD wafting through the house.

Zoe stood in the kitchen working on dinner. She stared into the pot she as throwing the ingredients for beef stew into, imagining herself making fettucini alfredo and meatloaf the next night. She grinned to herself, then opened the fridge and looked inside. She would need to go to the store and more cream in order to make the alfredo sauce.

Upstairs, Kayla had written exactly one word: Nick and had been distracted by his voice crooning I Want It That Way through her stereo speakers. She leaned back in her chair and stared at a picture on her desk of the two of them. She smiled and looked at his eyes in the photo - at the way his arm curved around her waist... She couldn't wait to let him hold her and touch her again. She missed him so much...

Her mind started to travel to the idea of Nick's body heavy over hers in bed, of his hands, wide and strong, covering her breast and his mouth on her skin, warm and wet and delicious, tasting purely of him.

But then, like the scratching of a record, she remembered.

She had a lot to explain to him.



AJ was sitting in his living room, watching TV with Leslie, who was leaning against him, her head on his shoulder, hugging his arm. She felt like a lil sister he'd never had. He put his feet up on the coffee table. Every channel, it seemed, was talking about Nick's trial and the pending decision by the jury. He sighed.

"What's wrong AJ?" Leslie asked.

"I've been a horrible friend," he admitted.

Leslie rubbed his arm. "You're not that bad."

AJ nodded. "I am. I was behind her at the courthouse today, and all I could do was smell her hair every time she moved..." AJ shook his head. "I dunno what the fuck my problem is. I know I can't have her - she's Nick's and I could never do that to him..." AJ folded forward, his head by his knees and cupped his hands around his neck. "But I can't stop thinking about her, either."

Leslie ran a hand down his back. "You're being too hard on yourself."

AJ shook his head.

"No you are, AJ," Leslie insisted, "You didn't really do anything with her, right?"

"Right."

"So you haven't done anything." She looked at him carefully. "AJ, it's gonna be okay. Nick trusts you and you're one of his best friends. It's really gonna be okay."

AJ sighed, "I know.. I know Nick trusts me, that's just it. I wish he wouldn't trust me..." he looked over at Leslie, "Because I don't trust me right now. Leave me alone with her ten minutes and I'm gonna lose all my control and rip all her clothes off and..." he stopped. "Why the fuck am I talking about this with you?" he asked.

Leslie rolled her eyes, "Why not?"

"You're his kid sister..." AJ answered, "You're like my kid sister."

"AJ," Leslie whispered, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a kid anymore."

AJ laughed, "You'll always be a kid to me, kid."

Leslie sighed, "Yeah, I know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" AJ demanded.

Leslie shrugged, "I'm just saying. I'll always be a child to you, evidently. But I'm not anymore. I'm just as much a woman as... as what's her name is."

"Whatsername?"

"Kayla."

AJ snorted. "Yeah okay, Les." He stood up and wandered out of the living room into the kitchen and started rummaging around in the fridge.

Leslie curled her legs up and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and grumbled, "Well I am," as she pulled the blanket over herself.



In a small room in the courthouse, a panel of jury members were crowded around a table in a brightly lit room. They all had tense expressions on their faces, their backs stiff and straight, their eyes serious.

"Have we all reached a decision then?" a woman with brilliantly red hair asked.

"I think so," answered a balding man. He looked at the ballots cast by the jury members.

After hours and hours and hours of debating and opinions and arguments, they'd reached their decision, and now all they had to do was pass it the next morning before the judge.

"Does anyone else feel bad - sending this kid to jail for the rest of his life?" piped up one woman.

"The evidence is overwhelming, Doris," spoke up another, "Don't go soft on us now."

"But he's so young," Doris said, shaking her head.

"If you have an argument why did you vote guilty?" demanded the balding man, "The vote was unaminous."

Doris sighed, "I believe he's guilty... I just wish he wasn't. I wish we could give him another chance."

"Once a murderer, always a murderer," muttered another guy with dark brown hair.

"Yeah, Doris, he deserves to be locked up," said the woman with the brilliant red hair. "If he isn't put behind bars, there's no telling what he could do in the future."

Doris nodded, "I know... I know... that's why I voted guilty in the end." She sighed. "But I still feel bad for him. He's obviously been through a lot himself."

The balding man nodded, "But that doesn't change what he's done."