Unarmed

Chapter 22

Lucas' POV

I watch, somewhat in awe, as Jeff makes his closing statement. As predicted, the trial has only lasted a week and closing statements are already being done. I feel more than confident that I'm going to walk away a free man. And yet, it doesn't really feel right.

"Officer Lucas Stevenson was a simply a man doing his job. As one of the few people in the country who can handle the pressure of being a police officer, we should not be punishing this man." Jeff walks from one end of the courtroom to the other. All eyes follow him. "Lucas Stevenson should be celebrated as a hero. He is a loving son, brother, uncle and boyfriend. To punish him would take him away from those who need him most, the American public."

Jeff makes his way back to our table. I glance at the all white jury. The way that some are nodding their heads and trying to contain their smiles of approval tells me that Jeff has just sealed my fate for the better.

The prosecution makes their closing statements but my mind wanders. The last time I saw Chantelle was nearly two weeks ago when she came to visit me. Since the trial started, I have only been allowed to see my lawyer and my immediate family members. I've tried calling Chantelle but each time, I was sent to voicemail. I know that all this has to be just as hard on her as it is on me.

And still, I miss her. I want to hear her voice. She's the only thing keeping me going.

"Will the defense please rise?"

I am startled from my thoughts when Jeff kicks me underneath the table.

"Stand up," he says sharply under his breath.

I quickly get on my feet, buttoning my suit jacket along the way.

An old white man stands from among the jurors and starts to read from a piece of paper. "We the jury find the defendant Lucas Stevenson not guilty in the case of murder in the first degree."

There are several mixed responses that come from the viewing gallery, including cheers and crying. The judge bangs his gavel and calls for order.

The old white man continues reading. "We the jury find the defendant Lucas Stevenson not guilty in the case of manslaughter."

Another mix of cheers and cries.

"We the jury find the defendant Lucas Stevenson not guilty in the case of negligence."

I look at my lawyer and he smiles from ear to ear then claps me on the back. "You're a free man Lucas." I let go of a breath I didn't know I was holding. The entire courtroom is erupting. There are shouts of anger, happiness and everything in between. I can't focus on anything though.

Moments later, the sheriff has his arm on my shoulder and is escorting me out of the courtroom. Another bailiff joins us as I am escorted to a holding cell.

"Your family or lawyer will be here momentarily," he says. "You're here for your own safety." He puts a small paper bag on the bench next to me.

I nod as his words barely register. I want to see Chantelle. I need to see Chantelle.

"Baby boy!" My mom comes rushing in with tears in her eyes. Before I know it, her arms are wrapped around me and she's sobbing. "You're free you know?" she says, caressing my face. "You're free."

I nod slightly and glance at the door to see my dad walking in. He pulls me in for a bear hug.

While I'm glad that my parents are happy, I know that the consequences for my actions didn't end in that courtroom today.

My face has been on national television for weeks. People either hate me or love me; there's no inbetween. While I've been free of all charges, the Bellevue police department has asked me to seek employment elsewhere. They did give me a very generous payoff, enough to keep me going for at least two years without working. Nevertheless, I will probably never again be able to find work as a police officer again. And to add to it all, I may have just lost the love of my life.

"Let's get you home," my mom says, taking my hand. "We've all missed you so much."

"I need to see Chantelle," I say immediately.

"Luke... sweetheart. I think she needs to process all this. Let's get you home and then you can call her."

"Yeah, son," my dad chimes in. "First things first. We want to get you out of here."

I nod slowly then grab my bag. I then follow my mom, dad and an escort out of the holding room.

"Where are we going?" I ask my mom as we jump on interstate 5, heading towards the family home.

"Home," my mom says glancing over at me from the driver's seat. My dad is in the back.

"You missed the exit for my apartment."

My mom gets quiet.

"Mom. Please take me home."

"Honey," she sighs. "Do you really think that's the best idea? Why don't you come home for awhile and we'll sort things out."

"Yeah son. We want to get you home," my dad repeats.

While the idea doesn't sound bad, I want to see Chantelle. I need to talk to her and to hold her. It's been so long and I have no idea where she stands. Where we stand.

"Take me home Mom," I say again. "I'll be okay."

My mom sighs once again then begins to make her way towards my apartment.

I kiss my mom on the cheek as she drops me off at my apartment.

"I'm going to order some groceries for you from Amazon, okay?"

"Okay mom." I nod at my dad as he takes the passenger seat. "Thank you guys. I'll talk to you soon."

I grab the small bag that contains a few of my possession. Instead of heading straight to my apartment, I take a bit of a detour.

When I get to Chantelle's door, my heart is racing. I have no idea what I'm going to say to her but I do know that I want to see her.

I knock three times then wait for her to open the door. A moment later, the door opens and I see Chantelle.

I feel my heart skip a beat as I see the woman I love. Except, she's different.

I can tell she's lost weight. Not a lot but enough so that her curves aren't as defined as they once were. She also has dark bags under her eyes and isn't standing as straight as she once did.

"Baby," I say, reaching towards her.

She closes the door slightly, keeping me outside her apartment.

"Chantelle?" I ask, shocked and saddened by the small but meaningful action.

"I need time," she says. Her voice is barely audible. I miss her loud, booming voice.

"I understand that," I say nodding slowly. "I just... I needed to see you. I missed you."

Chantelle nods. I can tell she isn't herself. She seems disconnected... almost zombie-like.

"I love you," I say.

She simply nods again. "I'll talk to you." She closes her door and just like that, the conversation is over.