Opening statements passed quickly, and the first person on the witness stand was a face Jack recalled: Yuri Fensin, the man who had attacked Liam in the barn on D land, friend of Hank, and all-around bastard. He’d plea-bargained his way down from Attempted Aggravated Sexual Assault to Assault in exchange for turning state’s witness against Hank. The prosecution worked hard to push every single button for the jury. The defense accused him of lying to cover his own ass, but he didn’t back down. Jack called it a win, if you could call what sat on the witness stand a win. Yuri wouldn’t look at Hank, and that was telling in itself.

Then it was Clinton’s turn. The PI was wearing the suit that Jack had seen hanging in the room, and he looked a different man. Still slimy and obsequious, he was focused on what he was saying. The defense was pushing him to reveal evidence, but with every question was becoming more and more impatient. Clinton gave nothing, just simple background stories on each boy that had been allegedly abused, but not once did he mention one of them being a call boy.

Finally it appeared the defense was done and outright asked Clinton if he’d found evidence that one of the young men was indeed a prostitute, which may well suggest all the boys were?

Clinton glanced at Jack and subtly nod his head, then turned back to face the question. “No,” he said. Just like that. A single word. And the defense didn’t seem to know what to say or where to go.

If Jack hadn’t been in court, he would have pumped the air. This was a small victory, but there was a lot of evidence to hear yet.

The first victim on the stand was the young man in the jeans, the one who looked like he’d tried his hardest to scrub up in the right way. He was stoic but looked tired, and he didn’t cry even though the defense attorney tried every single thing to get him to retract the story of systematic abuse over the past two years. This was Hank’s most recent victim, and Jack’s stomach turned when he heard the young man was only sixteen and another throwaway just like Liam had been. Jack resolved to make sure he was okay, made a mental note to check if he had a job or at the very least somewhere to go.

The well-dressed young man was next, although up close Jack could see that under the confidence was another child who’d been destroyed by what had happened to him. His testimony was the same, but when he was pushed by the defense to explain details of one particular attack, he cried.

Jack added another name to his list.

“Are you hearing all this?” Robbie whispered. “These are kids, Jack.”

“I wish Liam didn’t have to go through this,” Jack answered just as quietly. He glanced behind himself again. Still no one, no family or counselors or, hell, anyone. What happened to the three men when they left the ranch where so much had happened to them?

The young man in the suit a couple sizes too small silently moved into the room with his eyes downcast. Jack could sense the change in the room. The prosecution exchanged worried glances that Jack could see, and the defense straightened in their seats. Even the jury sat forward in their seats.

“Kyle Braden,” the witness spoke his name shakily, and the prosecution began a series of questions. After five minutes or so, Kyle appeared to relax, and he even lifted his chin a little. He was brutally honest about what happened, and his words went from shaky in their delivery to crisp and matter-of-fact. He was the oldest of the boys, twenty-five and he admitted there had even been boys before him.

Then it was the defense’s turn. And shit, they ripped into him, and every shred of what had been built up was torn down. After it was all over, Kyle had to be helped from the witness stand.

“What the fuck?” Robbie growled.

How could a jury not fail to see what had happened to these kids? Jack wanted to go home, get a rifle, and point it between Hank’s eyes, shoot the man dead there and then for the lives he had destroyed. When Jack saw the defense team exchange smiles, Jack wanted to let Robbie go, just to see him pummel them into the ground.

But then it was Liam’s turn and Jack had to stop himself from standing up and stopping this whole fucking debacle. Next to him Robbie moved like he’d had the same idea, and Jack quickly laid a hand on his foreman’s knee. He looked directly at Jack, and all Jack could see in the depth of Robbie’s eyes was despair and anger.

Liam looked different from the other three. Yes, he was nervous and scared, but he was looking behind Jack and when Marcus settled next to Robbie, Liam was staring right at him. Liam smiled and nodded his head. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes or change the stiff way he was holding himself, but he had someone to look at through this.

He answered prosecution questions with soft but insightful replies, from the way his abuse started to the lies he was told by Hank to keep him quiet. Then with a brief but visible closing of his eyes, he faced the defense attorney.

“You’re gay.” The attorney opened with the same thing he had with all the others.

“I am.”

Then it went much as the others. Until they came to the question that Jack dreaded.

“I would suggest you made yourself available, and in fact led my client into sexual situations. How would you answer that?”

Liam stared straight ahead to Marcus, whose hands were twisted in his lap.

“On no occasion did I make myself available,” Liam began. “I will admit that I craved the attention after the first time.”

“You’re saying that sexual advances were welcome?” the defense attorney offered with the silkiest tone Jack had ever heard.

“Never welcomed. I was homeless, and the Castille family took me in. They were the closest thing I had to family—”

“Did you, in fact, lead my client to believe you wanted a relationship?”

The prosecution interrupted with an objection, but the judge simply said, “Overruled.”

Liam sat absolutely still.

The defense pushed again, clearly high on what they assumed would be a case-winning admission. “Mr. Frazier? Is that what you did?”

The judge looked at him, then leaned forward. “Please answer, Mr. Frazier.”

Then Liam did something absolutely extraordinary. He half turned to address the judge. “I was answering, sir, but this man interrupted me. It’s like no one wants to listen to me.”

Jack waited with bated breath. The judge took a few seconds, then addressed the defense attorney. “You will let the witness answer. Continue, Mr. Frazier.”

Liam nodded. “Thank you, sir. I wanted to belong. I needed to belong somewhere. I was only sixteen, and Hank made it seem like unless I did what I was supposed to do, I wouldn’t have a home anymore. He was physically bigger, a man, whereas I was a boy. So if you are asking if I led him on, no I never did, but if you’re asking why I never spoke out, that is simple. I wanted a family that wanted me. I was scared to lose it all again.”

The defense attorney took a step back before recovering his equilibrium and the questions continued. It was Hank’s word against that of a handful of boys and Yuri, but somehow everything had slotted together and Jack hoped to hell the jury agreed. But that point there was Liam’s moment, and he hadn’t blown it.

Jack couldn’t be prouder.

Then it was Hank’s turn on the stand and he used every smooth oily way of explaining away his actions, calling Yuri a liar, the boys liars, talking about how he was an upstanding member of the community. It fell apart spectacularly when the prosecution simply asked:

“Are you gay?”

Talk about turning the tables. Hank spluttered and looked as if he felt the question was beneath him, and he looked directly at the defense team for them to intervene, to object. Weakly they did, they finally stood and stated “objection” loudly. The judge dismissed their stalling and directed Hank to answer.