A/N: This was my FAGE 6 piece for Rebadams7.
Chapter 1
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?"
"Yes, Your Honour."
"Please hand the verdict form to the court deputy." The deputy crossed the room and took the
papers from a juror, then returned to the front of the courtroom and handed them to the judge. He looked them over briefly before proceeding.
"Mr. McCarty, will you and your counsel please rise and face the jury." Once the young man and
his attorney were standing, the judge handed the verdict papers to the court clerk. "The clerk will
now deliver the verdict."
"District Court of the State of Washington, County of King, in the matter of the people of the State
of Washington versus Emmett James McCarty, case number C71038573. Count one - the jury finds the defendant guilty of first-degree assault with a deadly weapon. Count two – the jury finds the
defendant guilty of possession of more than 20 kilograms of marijuana with intent to distribute."
Emmett expected to hear a gavel come down and see people start to cry or cheer, but instead the
room remained silent. As it turned out, court trials were not nearly as entertaining as Hollywood
made them out to be. He hung his head and kept his eyes on the floor as the clerk asked each
juror to affirm that these were in fact the verdicts he or she had reached. When all was said and
done, the judge stood.
"The next stage of this trial will take place Monday at eleven am. The defendant will continue to be held at the Seattle Jail until a sentence is determined. Please remain standing while the jury exits."
"This isn't over yet," his lawyer, Royce King, whispered. "We can appeal this after your
sentencing."
Emmett shrugged. "Aro knew what he was doing. I'm fucked."
"You're not fucked. You were framed. You know it, I know it, and we'll do whatever it takes to
make sure those on the outside know it too."
Once the jury and courtroom audience were gone, the judge took a seat and glanced at the sheriff
standing in the corner. "He's all yours, Sheriff. Counselors, please approach the bench."
"Remember, don't talk to anyone," Royce hissed. "I'll call Carlisle as soon as I get out of here." The sheriff cuffed Emmett and led him out of the courtroom.
"The media is everywhere outside," the sheriff commented. "Do you want to answer one or two
questions?"
Emmett shook his head. "I don't talk without my lawyer present."
"Very good." The sheriff eased the courthouse doors open and the two men stepped outside.
Reporters and photographers lined the stairs, converging on the two men instantly.
"How do you feel about the verdict?"
"Why did you attack Senator Volturi's son?"
"When is your sentencing hearing?" Emmett wanted to answer every one of their questions. He
wanted to scream at them until they understood it wasn't him who attacked Demetri Volturi. But
he knew better than that. Royce had spent weeks schooling him on the importance of avoiding
questions without his legal representation present. So, he turned his eyes to the ground and gave
the one answer he knew was okay.
"I have no comment."
The questions continued to come, even after the sheriff had placed him in the back of the squad
car. Emmett kept his eyes focused on his lap and tried to ignore the embarrassment that the
situation brought with it.
He would do the right thing and serve whatever amount of time the judge gave him, even if it was
time that belonged to another truly guilty individual.
Karma was a concept he had always believed in.
And karma would take care of the rest in the end.
{-} P&P {-}
The socialization room was full as always, but Emmett managed to find an open chair in the back.
He'd learned on his first night in jail not to try and change the channel once someone had selected
it, especially if that someone was bigger than him. So, as much as he despised news broadcasts, it looked like that's what he would have to watch.
"In local news, the McCarty trial came to a close today when the defendant, Emmett James
McCarty, was found guilty on both charges brought against him. McCarty was arrested in August
after following Demetri Volturi home from a downtown Seattle bar and beating him with a lug
wrench. Police also found a large quantity of marijuana in McCarty's apartment. KING5 news was
on the scene at the Seattle Courthouse, where the city's prosecuting attorney answered
questions."
Emmett's blood boiled when Rosalie Hale's face appeared on the screen. She was egotistical,
ruthless, and stunningly beautiful, and he hated that he was still falling for her even after she had
helped falsely convict him.
One of the reporters that had hounded him on his way out of the courthouse stepped forward and
held a microphone out to Rosalie. "Congratulations, prosecutor! How does it feel to have won yet
another case?"
"They've all started to blur together, but it does feel nice to know that we've taken another
criminal off the streets."
The next reporter stepped forward. "Do you have any idea what McCarty is looking at in terms of a sentence?"
Rosalie shook her head. "I only help convict criminals. Sentencing is up to the judge."
Another microphone was thrust in her face. "What's next on your court schedule, prosecutor?"
"I can't share that information, unfortunately." The attorney looked down at her watch and smiled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it's after four o'clock on a Friday, which means my weekend has
officially begun." The camera stayed on her as she descended the stairs and got into the back of a
waiting car.
"Man, someone needs to teach that bitch a lesson," the inmate sitting next to Emmett sneered. A
few of the other inmates muttered in agreement.
As the broadcast moved on to the next item of news, Emmett couldn't get Rosalie's face out of his
mind. Royce had said something about appealing his conviction, and even though he wanted to
have faith in the process, Emmett had a feeling the prosecutor would find some way to have her
hands involved in everything that went on. Rosalie didn't seem to believe he was innocent, and
until she did, he doubted any judge would either.
Perhaps he needed to furnish proof to someone other than the judge.
Perhaps he needed to convince the prosecutor that he was worthy of being exonerated.
