22

Spencer Cypress

It was the final court session. And I was going to go face-to-face with the man that had terrorized me for too long.

I knew the time would come. First, Fergus went up. He made a show of him being in a wheelchair and making whining noises.

He looked at me. While his face looked sad, behind his eyes, I knew he was perverting me. Because that is just the man he is.

"Fergus, could you go over the events of the night of January 20 earlier this year?" his lawyer asked.

"Uh," Fergus muttered.

"You don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable." His lawyer added. I wanted to scoff. He was being coddled like he was the victim.

"No, I can do this." Fergus let out a sigh. "We were coming back from the party, and I was a bit tipsy. I think this was a perfect opportunity for Spencer to take advantage of me."

"Prejudicial statement!" My lawyer retorted. Judge Lebbeck reprimanded Fergus.

"We were on our way back when Spencer began to tease me. I pushed him away because I was drunk and didn't feel like doing that. When he tried to lean in to kiss me, I pushed him away. I just so happened to also be leaning on the rail. And Spencer got angry that I rejected him, so he pushed me off the railing. Next thing I knew, I had fallen on top of a car."

I noticed Fergus' wife sobbing.

"Do you think Spencer had any malicious intentions when he pushed you off?" His lawyer then asked.

"I don't know. But his intention then was definitely to hurt me. And he is still trying to hurt me today with this farce."

The lawyer continued to pry questions that were specifically asked about how horrible he felt after the accident. I knew my lawyer would pick up on this too.

Bertie then went up and slicked back his hair.

"Mr. Manchineel. I'm sure you are aware that there is much evidence against you, right?" My lawyer asked.

"I would like to see it." Fergus replied.

The TV lit up and there were text messages and emails being shown.

"Is this not you? In one message, you call Spencer your 'second-wife'. And you often sent him heart emojis."

Logan objected. "Heart emojis mean nothing, your honor. I send my friends kissing emojis. Does that mean I want to kiss them?"

"Do you even have anyone that would want to kiss you?" My lawyer asked. Bertie was reprimanded by the judge.

"He was my assistant. Of course I was close to him. He knows what restaurants I like, he knows how I'm feeling based on the socks I wore, and even the exact temperature of my coffee."

"And do you think that closeness led to more?" Bertie asked. He walked back to the TV. "I was able to retrieve footage from the Monarch Hotel in Reno, who were happily able to give us footage of that night."

The TV turned on. The grainy footage, dated of that night, showed me carrying my drunk ex-boss through the hallway.

"As you can see, Mr. Manchineel's hand is slipping past Mr. Cypress' hips and towards his behind."

"My hand just happened to glide there!" Fergus shouted. "I was drunk!"

"And here, Mr. Manchineel has pinned Mr. Cypress right against the front door of their room. Notice my client trying to push him away by placing his hands on Mr. Manchineel's chest."

I didn't want to watch the video. But I had to. Even though the footage was grainy and low quality, my face was easily seen. And it was clear I did not want him to be one me.

"Even if Mr. Manchineel was drunk, it still doesn't match his original story of Mr. Cypress forcing himself on him." Bertie explained.

"We would request for this footage to be stripped from the record! It had no basis in the context of this case as we are discussing the harm Mr. Cypress caused and not what my client has or hasn't done!" Logan shouted.

"On the contrary, Mr. Manchineels actions relate to what led Mr. Cypress to push the defendant from the second floor of the hotel."

"Overruled, Mr. Privet." The judge replied.

I turned and saw Graham sitting there. He gave me a smile. And I felt better with that. But when I looked behind him, I saw the two people I dreaded seeing: My parents. My mother glanced at me before turning back forward.

"Your honor, the plaintiff wishes to enact Vincent's Law." My lawyer said.

"And the defendant refuses! Vincent's Law is barely new and has no relevance to this case." Logan replied.

"According to Article 3 of Vincent's Law, any individual who makes above $299,999.99 is required to present an invoice of any purchases at the request of a court of law or member of said court. Seeing as how Mr. Manchineel fits those requirements, he is obligated to send us that invoice or face an inquiry and audit on behalf of the IRS." My lawyer explained.

"And what exactly are you looking for with the invoice, Mr. Areca?" The judge asked.

"Proof that Fergus Manchineel has hired private investigators, bribed his own employees to testify in his favor, and also suspicions of siphoning money from the company."

The judge leaned back in his seat. "The plaintiff's request is accepted. The defendant will submit a list of all purchases from all accounts he has. I have yet to see Vincent's Law be executed, so this should be intriguing."

Fergus' questioning ended. Then it was my turn to take the stand.

It was hard to face Fergus. So, I didn't. I looked away and avoided his eyes. Instead, my vision was set on Graham Birch. He looked out of place sitting amongst the crowd of professionally dressed people.

Wearing only a light blue button, which was slightly wrinkled because I forgot to iron it last night. And his hair was slightly messy, unlike others who were perfectly styled. And yet, I loved him for that.

Graham gave me a reassuring smile. His blue eyes had a sparkle in them.

"Mr. Cypress, could you explain your relationship with Fergus in the initial part of your job?" My lawyer asked.

"I started working as Fergus' assistant after graduating from Rice University. At first, my job was simple. Paperwork, setting up meetings, all that jazz." I said.

"And then what started to change?"

I sighed. "Fergus started staying late. I asked him what was wrong, and he told me he was going through a fight with his wife. I offered support and let him know that I would help him. It went on like that. Then the touching started.

"They were subtle at first. Just a tap here on my hips or rubbing my shoulders when he passed by. Then they got more noticeable to where even some of my coworkers asked if there was something going on between us."

"And how did you feel about his sudden affection, Spencer? Please be honest." Bertie said.

Graham smiled at me.

"I liked it at first. I was alone at the time and the affection Fergus was giving me made me feel wanted. And I knew it was wrong, so he told me that he and his wife were getting divorced." I explained. My lawyer showed those text messages on screen.

"Could you tell us when you knew something was wrong between the two of you?" My lawyer asked me.

I glanced down to my lap, feeling tears pierce my eyes. Bertie placed a box of tissues next to me.

"Uh, I sort of came to the realization when he tried to take control of my life. Yeah, he bought me clothes, but he also told me what I should wear. He also began to change my schedule by making sure it aligned perfectly with him. Even on his days off, if he went somewhere, I was assigned to go with him." I explained.

"By the time prior to the Reno event came along, how did you feed towards Fergus?"

I looked up, looking at Fergus. He could see my face and teary eyes.

"I was disgusted by him." I said. I could see Fergus' eyes flinch. For so long, I was afraid to say anything to him. I knew this was my time.

"What went through your mind on the night of January 20, Mr. Cypress?" My lawyer asked.

I explained the first few hours of the event, which went somewhat mundane. I also pointed out how my boss was getting drunker as the night went on and I grew worried.

Then I explained what happened in the moment leading up to when Fergus fell from the second floor of the hotel. When he began to touch me, when I pushed him, and when he fell off.

I knew I was crying when telling the story. And I couldn't stop crying and speaking. I had spent so much time wondering what I was going to say when I was on the stand.

Would I stutter? Would I be frightened by the judge? And most of all, was I going to falter upon seeing Fergus, the man who had hurt me so much?

But I was brave. At least, I thought of myself as brave at that moment.

"No further questions, your honor." My lawyer said.

Combined with the camera footage, my co-worker's testimony, and my testimony, it was no surprise when Fergus' lawyer couldn't find anything to question me about.

"Very well," Judge Alan Lebbeck said. "Fergus, please submit the forms needed as requested by the plaintiff. We will reconvene in five days."

The court began to file out. I wasn't surprised to see my parents being the first ones to leave. I wondered what they were even doing here. They said what they said when all of this came out.

"Wanna get something to eat?" Graham asked me as he placed his hand on my neck.

"Yeah," I muttered.

"You were really brave up there, Spencer. I'm proud of you." He told me.

I wasn't sure why, but he saying that to me felt amazing. I really needed someone to tell me that.

On the bright side, once this ends, no matter the results, at least I knew that I put up a fight and didn't let myself be kicked down.