This chapter is dedicated to CrystalREnriquez who kept me busy this week with her many interesting comments. Thanks so much for your support :)

13 - Who Is The Bad Guy?

Rena's POV

Though I hated myself for it, I actually started to appreciate my time away from Noah more and more. School was picking up and I was buried with homework; the days he was with Charlotte gave me a chance to catch up. Patrice and I would meet and hang out at the mall on some afternoons and I relished to just sit at the food court with a coffee, chatting away with her about almost anything.

It was the first time I realized how much I missed having a girl friend – Kade was an excellent listener and a great adviser but he was also close to thirty and a guy who could be quite patronizing. Patrice and I had a lot in common and we found a closeness after only a few weeks that had taken me years to build with Caroline. Not having a fussy baby around when I poured my heart out to her certainly helped.

I finished out my junior year with a decent 3.5 average and almost immediately started to dread the long summer. Patrice was off with her mom and siblings for a month to Southern France to escape Marcus and I was stir-crazy after the first week. While Noah was away, I spent my time lying on the bed, listening to the ticking of the cuckoo clock that Kade had gotten me during a ski trip to Austria, and waited for the evening to come when I could officially turn off the light again to go to sleep.

Therapy was the only highlight of my day and it didn't take Doc long to figure out that something was wrong. By now, he knew me well enough to determine my mood just by looking at me when I stepped through the door.

"I think it's time for you to focus on your community service," he said.

I grimaced. "I don't know, Doc. At the moment, it's still really hard to talk about my abuse and I can't picture myself standing up in a front of a bunch of strangers and tell them about Brent. Mr. Rose said I could wait until after I graduate."

The frown on his face was a clear indication that he did not agree with my probation officer. "Sharing your story can be therapeutic."

I gave him a feeble smile in response, having learned not to get into debates with him. He was the typical educated know-it-all – his arguments were usually sound and it was exhausting to try to change his opinions about anything.

"I'm just not ready, Doc."

I sighed in relief when he dropped the subject.

"How about a part-time job?"

That was actually not a bad idea and would give me some extra cash to spoil Noah with. Charlotte bought him a ton of toys and books in addition to the cutest outfits and the jealousy that she was able to afford all this had been chipping away at me from the beginning.

My lifestyle with Brent had been quite elaborate – even if he had called all the shots and had kept me on a tight leash – and readjusting to my father's stingy standards by living off a $50 monthly allowance had been a challenge. In all fairness, he covered the necessities like diapers and formulas, but felt that anything in excess of the basic wardrobe was a waste for a baby since Noah grew so fast. My dad had no clue that dressing up my son and parading him around was something a mother thrived on.

"Well, I guess I could work in a supermarket or maybe the mall." I grinned at Doc, awaiting his approval.

Yet, the frown on his forehead did not vanish but only deepened. "I think you could do better than that. Why don't you get a job at an office? Maybe that will also help you to figure out what you want to do after high school."

I did type fast and surely could operate a copy machine. "Do you think someone will hire me?

The frown finally disappeared and he had that smile that always reminded me of a mischievous child who had just convinced his parents that his terrible idea was actually a good one.

"I know that Pam was looking for a summer student. That would also give you an opportunity to work with the shelter which could help you with your community service later on."

I couldn't shake the felling that this had been his plan all along to ease my reservations. He probably hoped that it would be easier to face my inner demons if I was around women who were victims themselves and could relate to me. Whatever his reasons, the idea grew on me the more I thought about it – working in a law office would be cool and maybe I could even help out Noel with some of his clients for free to repay him for accepting my custody case.

When I left Doc's office that day, I had a job – full time on the days Noah was with Charlotte at the impressive salary of $500 a week. Pam had loved the idea when Doc had called her right on the spot and I was scheduled to start the next morning at 8:00 am sharp. I was excited and treated myself to an ice cream cone before calling Patrice to tell her the good news. Little did I know that people didn't just pay you this type of money to be nice – they actually expected you to work hard for it – and I was in for a few surprises.

~~~~

The first thing I learned was that working full time in a law office exceeded the usual definition of an eight hour day. Pam started at six in the morning, usually staying until seven or eight at night and as her personal intern, I was expected to be available at her disposal from at least eight to six. She was more vague on my responsibilities – mostly running errands and taking care of her scheduling when she was in court, which was a lot.

We headed out for an arraignment a few minutes after I arrived – one of her more prestigious client had been arrested for driving under the influence of alcohol. The courthouse was located on West Washington Street and brought back bad memories of my trial. My scalp tingled as I walked through the metal detector – I was halfway expecting that the guards would pull their guns to arrest me. When a hand stopped the elevator in the last second and a woman squeezed in, I almost yelped.

"Oh, hey, Hannah," Pam greeted her.

"Hi." Hannah gave me a quizzical look, followed by a small smile. "Is that your daughter?"

"No. Celine decided that law school wasn't for her and changed her major to business. She is working for Lance this summer." Pam's expression was flat, I couldn't tell if her daughter's decision to follow into her father's footsteps bothered her. Kade hadn't even mentioned that his sister had changed her mind – according to my latest info, she had been on the fast track to Yale law school, her mom's alma mater. At least that explained why Pam was all of a sudden in need of a summer student.

"This is Rena Cooper," Pam introduced us. "Rena, this is Hannah Harlan. She is Tivon Goldstein's partner."

That booted Hannah right off my list of people I liked – anyone working with Tivon was an enemy by association. It even surprised me that Pam was so civil to her – I knew from Noel that the Goldstein firm was often the opposing counsel and a nuisance. According to him, they were "ruthless and ready to cut anyone's throat to make a buck".

The quizzical look turned into pure curiosity. "You were convicted of murdering your boyfriend, right?"

I coughed into my fists, nodding, my face burning by her apparent insensitivity. Coming from her mouth, the full implication of my verdict really hit home – for a bystander, I would always be a psychotic girl who killed a man in cold blood. Pam shot her a nasty look which shut her up. I was grateful, certainly not in the mood of having to justify myself to Tivon's stooge.

The rest of the ride was spent in uncomfortable silence and I whimpered to myself when Hannah got off on the same floor, closely tagging along behind us. The courtroom was packed with reporters, some of them staring openly at me as I followed Pam along with my eyes glued to the one person I hadn't expected but dreaded the most – Marcus Forrester. There must be a high profile arraignment on the docket for him to be present.

The prisoners were already in the jury box and for a moment, Kade's pained face flashed in front of me while he had waited for his own arraignment after I had gotten him into trouble with the stalking complaint. I glanced around – it could have even been the same courtroom. My eyes landed on the back row where I had sat next to Brent, unable to stop the injustice because I had been too weak and despicable. When I had agreed to be Pam's intern, I had never expected it to tear open old wounds and wondered whether Doc had anticipated that.

For a second, I even considered quitting on the spot but then I met Marcus's gaze who smirked at me with this 'you are way out of your league' look. I gritted my teeth and swore I would stick it out. People like him and Hannah would not rule my life.

"You okay?" Pam asked, pulling me from my sullen thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I studied the prisoners in the box – five guys and a woman who appeared like she hadn't washed her hair in a week.

"I know this place brings back bad memories" – she gave my arm a reassuring squeeze – "but hiding at home is not the answer. You need to face your fears if you want to move on with your life."

I frowned, this sounded like one of Doc's little pep talks. Now I was certain they were in cahoots together to draw me out of my comfort zone – probably worried I would fall into a deep depression. The sad thing was that they were probably right and having them worry about me was a comforting thought. I wouldn't even put it past my dad to have called Doc to complain about my sulky mood.

"I have to talk to my client," Pam said. "Wait here."

I slumped into a chair in the audience, studying the prisoners. Pam's client was an older guy in his mid-forties who looked a little disheveled with dark circles under his eyes but had that aura of someone who screamed old money. His nose was stuck up in the air and when he was talking, his eyes complained about the unfairness that he wasn't allowed to drive around drunk as a skunk. His hands were delicate with an impeccable manicure, he never worked a day of physical labor in his life. If I had to guess, I would put him on the board of a big company.

Hannah's client, on the other hand, was your stereotypical criminal who could have easily stepped out of an episode of 'Law and Order'. I wondered how he could afford her. He was of Hispanic descent with hard, cold eyes and a menacing look that sent shivers down my spine. If I met him at night on the street, I would run.

"Enjoying yourself?"

I squinted at Marcus who had snuck up on me and was standing next to my chair, – too close for my liking – gazing down at me. I bit my lip, pretty certain that he wasn't actually expecting an answer to his question.

He tilted his head, staring at the jury box. "Imagine." He sucked in a deep breath. "One day, you'll be back in that seat and this time, I'll put you away for good." He smirked, bending down, his voice almost reduced to a whisper. "Then I'll go home and screw Patrice, giving her your regards. It will be epic."

My hand automatically curled to a fist – I wanted nothing more than to punch him – but then he would have gotten his wish. Assault on the Deputy District Attorney in a Cook County courtroom in front of dozens of witnesses and armed guards – a dream come true. He had to think I was stupid, trying to push my buttons here of all places. When Pam turned around and glared at him, he straightened. "Watch your back, Cooper," he muttered under his breath before retreating to his table on the other side of the aisle.

Pam took a seat next to me. "What was that all about?"

I was just about to tell her what Marcus did when the judge walked in and everyone jumped to their feet like good little soldiers. The judge nodded at the audience with a grim 'good morning' and we were allowed to sit again.

"The State of Illinois versus Silvan Alvarez," the bailiff announced.

The judge shuffled through his paperwork. "Defendant is charged with five counts of distribution of a controlled substance, assault with a dangerous weapon and attempted murder." His eyes wandered to the jury box. "All right, gentlemen, who of you is Mr. Alvarez?"

"That's me." Hannah's client watched the judge through hooded eyes, leaning back in his seat while rocking gently back and forth. He didn't show the slightest inclination to stand.

Hannah cleared her throat as she rose, shooting him a dark look. "Hannah Harlan for the defendant, your Honor."

With a sigh, Silvan decided to show the judge some respect and got on his feet almost like a lazy wildcat.

The judge gazed at Marcus over his reading glasses. "Are you representing the State, Mr. Forrester?"

Marcus stood up, his eyes gleaming with a vicious glow. I had seen this expression before, it was his way of readying himself for the kill. "I am, your Honor, and the State opposes bail in this case. The US Attorney's Office is in the process of filing charges against Mr. Alvarez in Federal Court and there is a strong possibility that we'll be amending the complaint to Murder I. The victim in this case is Mr. Alvarez's girlfriend and she is in critical condition at the ICU. Chances are she won't make it."

I clutched my hand over my mouth when Silvan's and my eyes interlocked, my insides cold as ice. He was an abuser like Brent and I hoped that Marcus would lock him up and throw away the key. It was ironic how perceptions could change within a matter of seconds – I would never have pictured myself cheering for his team. The thought that he actually put away bad guys had always been overshadowed by his appalling behavior.

"We are not seeking bail at this time," Hannah confirmed.

The judge grunted something that sounded like fabulous before scribbling something in the file. "Bail is hereby denied. Motions to be filed within ten days." He swung his gavel for good measure. "Next case."

I excused myself when Silvan winked at me, ready for a good cry. In the bathroom, I sprinkled water on my face, staring at myself in the mirror. When I had been in that jumpsuit, did people see me as a common criminal? Had they been scared of me, secretly thanking fate that their son had not been the one getting involved with me? How did anyone know I was not a monster or better yet, how should I know that I was not like Silvan? After all, I had taken a human life and was no different than him in the long run.

The questions buzzed in my head as I continued to glare into the mirror, trying desperately to come up with some answers. A few tears rolled down my cheeks but otherwise, I managed to keep it together. After a few minutes, I convinced myself to go back. Pam was probably already waiting for me.

When I turned the corner, I bumped into Marcus who was brooding, not paying any attention to me. My eyes burned into his back as he strolled towards the elevator, and I pushed myself to call out to him. "Mr. Forrester."

He spun around, a surprised expression on his face. "Yes?"

"This guy, Silvan." I grimaced when he arched an eyebrow. "Can you make sure you get a conviction?"

He studied me with a somber expression though I could swear his lips twitched for a second.

"You see, Ms. Cooper, the trouble with people like Silvan Alvarez is that they'll always be a step ahead of justice. His girlfriend who turned evidence on him will die, the other witnesses will be too intimidated to testify or disappear, and any other trail will go cold. He hired by far the best defense attorney in the state and has enough money to kill or pay everyone off who could put him behind bars. Guys like him are almost untouchable – we were lucky to even secure an arrest warrant."

I frowned. "So that's it. People like him go free while I might end up in prison."

He shrugged. "Pretty much. Justice comes in small dosages." His eyes stayed on me. "Don't get me wrong, Ms. Cooper. I totally get why you killed Brent Parks, you truly thought you were protecting your son. The trouble is, you didn't."

I wanted to walk away so badly but there was something in his pose that kept me frozen in place.

"You see, Ms. Cooper, you're just like my mother. She shot my dad for the exact same reason – claiming it was all for my own good. Do you know what happened to me after the jury disagreed?"

My body was stunned in shock, my breath stuck in the back of my throat.

"I went from one foster home to the next, discarded like a piece of trash whenever they grew tired of me. One guy beat me half to death, another used me as a living ashtray. I was a poor kid from the streets, so no one cared." Wetness glistened in his eyes. "Don't expect sympathy from me because you made a questionable choice, Ms. Cooper. I'll hunt you down until Brent Parks got justice because that's what I swore to myself every night growing up – putting people like you and Silvan Alvarez in prison."

He just let me standing there in the hallway, every part of me throbbing. All I wanted was to go home and hug my son, but he was with Charlotte – and I was the only one to blame for that.

So Rena struggles to come to terms with her conviction. While many of us sympathize with her because of Brent's abuse, she is a murderer and people judge her accordingly. Do you agree? What would you make of Rena if you just met her and found out she killed someone?

I developed a little bit of Marcus's backstory to show you that he also has a different side - plus it is quite a scary thought that we probably all want him to put away Silvan, making him the good guy here (at least for a brief moment). What do you make of that? Are you totally set against him or do you feel good that he fights for the people of Illinois?

I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments and thanks for reading! Please don't forget to vote if this chapter deserved it - it always puts that extra smile on an author's face. Hopefully, see you next week :)