Page 231 of Gabriel
“I don’t care about any of that,” I snap, cutting her off. “There is no amount of money in the world you can offer me that would make up for what he did. I’m not letting him buy his way out of this.”
She purses her lips. “What is it that you want, then?”
“Jail time. That’s my bare minimum.” I won’t settle for anything less.
“He is my son?—”
“Then hold him accountable!”
Jaymin’s eyes narrow and she considers me. “If we go to trial, there’s a reasonable chance he could walk.”
“I’m willing to take that chance,” I tell her. “I won’t settle for anything less than Austin behind bars.”
“One year.”
I choke on a laugh.
“Not good enough.”
“Two, and we still provide you restitution. The same amount.”
My heart races. Two years? No way. “No. Two years is nothing.”
“Alright.” She holds her arms out wide. “What do you want, then?”
Biting my lip I tell her, “Fifteen years.”
Jaymin scoffs. “That’s the maximum sentence for a second-degree murder charge. This is his first offense, and there is no evidence to show it was premeditated.”
Bullshit.
“You asked me what I want. This is what I want. I want fifteen years.”
She lets out a soft, almost mocking laugh. “Be realistic, Ms. Russo. We’re both sensible adults here. Two years is more than fair.”
“No.”
“No?”
“You heard me. No.”
“Are you aware of the sway the Holt name has in this town? Your father is already struggling simply by our withdrawal of financial support for his campaign.” I bite my cheek until blood coats the back of my tongue. “Imagine the strain it would put on your parents if my husband and I decided to truly set our sights on them. I could bury both you and your family. I can make it unbearable for any of you to remain in Richland. All it wouldtake are a few phone calls to the right people, and the entire lot of you would be run right out of town.”
Ice slithers down my spine.
There she is. I knew the apple couldn’t have fallen far from the tree.
“You could.” I’m not naive. I know how much power Austin’s family has. They helped him get away with raping me, after all. “But your son would still be in jail,” I tell her. “You might bring me and my family down, but you’d lose too, and Austin behind bars would be satisfaction enough.”
Jaymin bares her teeth. “Four years.”
“No.”
“You insolent little—” She takes a deep breath and gathers herself. “He is my son.” There’s a plea in her voice, but I’m not buying it.
“He is a monster.”
“That may be,” she confesses. “But he is mine. My monster. For better or worse, I will protect him.”
