Confession of a King

I looked down at my lap, my black dress pants hugging my thighs, still not being as skinny as I was pre-Alec. My hands were folded over my lap, the watch on my wrist was saying that it was twenty past twelve. We had been here for an hour and change, and it felt like we were getting nowhere. I looked up and to my left, my eyes fixating on Matt’s profile. His jaw was tight and his brows were furrowed, his hazel orbs were staring directly in front of us. One of his tattooed arms laid on the table in front of us, as they allowed him to be un-cuffed for the trial. His other one was relaxed, his hand resting in his lap. How bad I wanted to grab that hand and hold it with mine. I pulled my attention from Matt and looked forward, first taking in the visual of the judge who was staring down Mr. Morgan, who was being interrogated by Brian.

“So, you mean to tell me that there is no evidence stating that Mr. Sanders committed these two murders that you are charging him for?” Brian asked, pacing in front of the room.

“No hard evidence. We have heard him confess to killing more than Mr. Clements, but he has not given names for the victims,” Mr. Morgan responded, professionally.

“How are you going to convict someone without hard evidence?” Brian paused his pacing and looked at Mr. Morgan, raising an eyebrow. “You have no confession.”

Mr. Morgan’s eyes left Brian and looked toward Matt and I sitting together, “He was never willing to speak to us, and in the short period of time Ivy worked for us, he refused to confess to the murders of Mr. Jones and Keller. Confessions that he has committed other murders should count in this, should they not?”

“Isn’t this trial based off of the murders of Mr. Jones and Keller, not for cases that your sect has been unable to justify other than by word of mouth?” Brian nearly snapped.

“That is enough, Mr. Haner,” the judge spoke. “Mr. Sanders, please take the podium.”

My breath caught in my throat as Matt stood up, his arm brushing against me. I grabbed his wrist and looked at him, reminding him to be professional. Brian sat back down at our table, glancing at me quickly with a small frown. Mr. Morgan was now going to be the one interrogating Matt, and it terrified me. Matt sat and looked forward, his eyes boring into mine. His bottom lip was jutted out a little more than usual. I’m sure a million things were going through his head at this moment.

“Mr. Sanders, you were arrested in 2002 for the murder of Roger Clements. Can you run through that murder with us again?” Mr. Morgan asked, now being the one doing the pacing in the front of the court room.

Matt licked over his lips and spoke smoothly, “I have already been interrogated for that murder and found guilty. I would prefer not to bring my memory back to that.”

“But you killed Roger Clements due to your gang affiliation, correct?” Mr. Morgan pressed.

“Ever so slightly,” Matt purred out. “I mainly murdered Clements because he hired an assassin to take me out and injured someone else.”

“Your confession said he was in debt to your gang. Twenty-thousand dollars? Am I right?”

Matt nodded, “Yes, you are right, but the…”

“And you threatened him and held his loved ones hostage to try to get the money back, correct? That is why he hired an assassin to take out you and your henchmen,” Mr. Morgan nearly stated word-for-word the confession Matt had given me months back about what happened.

“You are correct,” Matt responded, his eyes showing irritation, but his face still stoic and made of stone.

I didn't know where Mr. Morgan was going with this, either. I wasn’t aware of the way that Jones and Keller were killed, but if it was anything like the way Clements was killed, Matt was going to most likely get nailed. He had confessed to me prior that neither one of those men were killed by him or anyone affiliated with Avenged. I had brought that tape with me, in case someone had something up their sleeve.

“You murdered Mr. Clements by gutting him with a switchblade. Mr. Jones and Keller were also found with injuries to the abdomen from a switchblade, and were affiliated with Mr. Clements gang. Are you aware of this?” Mr. Morgan tapped his foot while staring Matt in the eyes.

“I was not aware of that,” Matt answered, honestly. “I didn’t research how those two men died because it had nothing to do with me, and was none of my business.”

“So you mean to tell me that it is just a coincidence that the same type of weapon was used on Mr. Jones and Keller, that was used on Mr. Clements?”

Matt shook his head with a smirk, “Switchblades are common weapons used by multiples of people. If someone dies by a bullet to the head, and then someone else gets shot in the head a day later, does that mean the same person killed them?”

“Excuse me, your honor,” I spoke loud and clear. “I have Mr. Sanders confession to murdering Roger Clements on tape, and in that same confession he states to me that he did not have any affiliation with the deaths of Mr. Jones and Mr. Keller.”

The judge nodded, “Please proceed with playing the tape.”

I grabbed the tape labeled as “Matt’s confession” and placed it into the player, pressing play. My voice came over the tape, “Whatever you want to talk about, Matthew. Let’s talk about the accusations in your last trial.”

Matt spoke, “I pleaded guilty to the murder of Roger Clements.”

“How did you kill him?”

“I gutted him alive with a switchblade. Tied him up in his penthouse with cable and put electrical tape over his mouth. Started on his upper abdomen and made the incision downward. He bled out before I was able to finish, but his last moments were with a blade in his large intestine.”

“Can you tell me why you murdered Mr. Clements?”

“He was in debt twenty-thousand dollars to us. It was past due by six months and I was tired of waiting. I started small with trying to my money back from him. Using threats, a couple of shots fired, a few times holding people hostage. Then he hired an assassin to try to take me and my men out. One of my men got a shot to the back. That was the end of it. Something had to be done.”

“So you brutally killed him?”

“I did what I had to do. I didn’t say I enjoyed doing it. I just had to do it.”

“Did you do this to anyone else?”

“No. I didn’t kill the other two that they try to say I killed. They were involved in Clements’ business, but they didn’t die by my hand, or the hand of anyone affiliated with me.”

“Do you know who killed them then?” I asked.

“No, I don’t… and I don’t care who did. It has nothing to do with me. Any other questions?”

“Thank you, Ms. Miada,” the judge spoke. “Mr. Morgan, if your team has no hard evidence to back up your accusations, and Mr. Sanders has continuously pleaded not-guilty to the murders of Mr. Jones and Keller, I hereby declare this half of the case dismissed. Mr. Sanders, please have a seat and we will begin with the remainder of your case.”

I wanted to do a victory dance as I heard Matt say thank you with a smile on his face. He came back over and sat down between Brian and I, his dimples sinking in and that smile never leaving his face. Once he was seated he turned to me, beaming, and grabbed my hand in his, squeezing it lightly before letting go and placing his on the table.

“Congratulations, sugar,” I said quietly while I smiled at him, my face almost mirroring his. We just had to get through this final portion, the portion regarding his mental stability… and this was going to be more thrown on me than anyone else here.

“Thank you, honey,” he said under his breath.

“Mr. Morgan, please state the remainder of your case,” the judge spoke.

Mr. Morgan stood up and walked to the front of the court room again, his eyes landing on Matt and I. He cleared his throat, “Although Mr. Sanders has now been declared not-guilty for the murders of Mr. Jones and Kelly, we believe that he is far too mentally unstable to be released into the outside world. On behalf of the prison, we would like to call Ms. Ivy Miada up to the stand to talk about her interactions with Mr. Sanders while working under us.”

I nodded and stood from the table, locking eyes with Matt once more before walking over to the front of the room, taking a seat. I gnawed on my bottom lip as I straightened out the bottom of my shirt, looking from Matt to Brian, then back to Matt. Mr. Morgan cleared his throat again and my attention snapped to him.

“Ms. Miada, you were Mr. Sanders psychologist for ten months prior to him leaving the program, correct?” He spoke smoothly.

I nodded, “That is correct.”

“You would say that you had a good, working relationship with Mr. Sanders for the majority of that time?”

I took a deep breath, “Yes. Mr. Sanders confided much more information in me than he had previous psychologists. He worked well with me and was given different privileges for being so cooperative.”

“Can you talk about those privileges? Did granting these things to Mr. Sanders ever come back to haunt you?” Mr. Morgan asked, and I knew exactly what he was eluding to.

“Mr. Sanders was granted the opportunity to not be restrained while in my office. We had an agreement that as long as he was friendly and cooperative, he would not have to feel chained while in my presence,” I spoke clearly, despite feeling my insides shaking from nerves.

“There was a time that caused Mr. Sanders to be restrained once again, right? He had attacked you in your office. Two officers pulled him off of you because he had you pinned to your desk, asking if you were interested in dying. Isn’t that right?” Mr. Morgan raised a brow at me.

I swallowed the spit in my throat and licked over my lips, “Mr. Sanders and I had gotten into a disagreement. Minor anger does not equal to mentally unstable. All other interactions between Mr. Sanders and myself were anything but negative. I do not believe that he needs to be medicated, nor locked up for the rest of his life. He fits the mold for an inmate that can be released into society.” I grabbed the paperwork that I had sitting in front of me and handed it to the judge, “The prison has a worksheet to determine if someone is pliable to release, and Mr. Sanders is the perfect example of this.”

“Thank you,” the judge muttered while reading over the worksheet with her glasses. “I would like you to elaborate on the disagreement between Mr. Sanders in yourself that caused him to attack you.”

I frowned, “I wouldn’t say that he attacked me. We were on a friendly level and were talking about some outside-of-work topics, something that we usually did. I can’t remember exactly what we were talking about, but we got into a disagreement. Some curse words flew around the room and then things escalated, ever-so-slightly.”

“Were you afraid of Mr. Sanders when this happened?” Mr. Morgan asked.

“No. I have never been afraid of Mr. Sanders the way the majority of the prison was. I do not find him to be threatening.”

“That’s enough questions for me,” Mr. Morgan replied. “Someone else from the prison would like to ask you questions, if that is okay.”

“That is fine,” I responded, my eyes nearly popping out of my head when Red replaced Mr. Morgan.

Notes