Her Rebellion (The Rite Trilogy 2)

“Mercedes,so nice of you to finally join us,” Hildebrand remarks dryly as he stares down at me from the dais in The Tribunal courtroom. Gone is his easy manner from the night we all had dinner together, and now I know I’m dealing with Councilor Hildebrand, rather than the man.

At his flank are two other councilors. They are the same men who presided over Abel’s trial. The same men Ivy had to face when she was accused of poisoning my brother. I was here on both those occasions, and I know they are not men who will be swayed by the charms of any woman. They are all wearing severe expressions as they look down on me in shame, and if it weren’t for Santi holding my arm, I might pass out entirely.

Judge is on my other side, his body rigid, and he’s not touching me. I don’t have to guess why. I’m certain he’s already received a few strange looks from my brother as I was laid out across his lap hurling my lunch up.

“I’m waiting for a response, young lady,” Hildebrand chides me, and Santi gives my arm a little squeeze as he speaks for me.

“It’s my fault,” he says, taking on the burden himself. “Mercedes wasn’t aware of the situation at hand. We thought it best not to worry her. She’s been… in a fragile state.”

“Fragile, how?” Hildebrand arches a brow at me. “It didn’t appear that way when she was at dinner, flirting away with Theron Montgomery without a care in the world.”

I swallow when Santi clearly doesn’t know how to respond to that, and I’m sure he’d like to believe I’ve lived without any guilt or remorse for the things I’ve done. But that’s simply not true.

“If I may.” Judge directs the councilor’s attention to him, stepping forward in a way that shows no fear. And for a moment, it makes me feel like maybe things will be okay. Because he does this every day. He knows how these situations work. Only that’s in the outside world. In our world, we all know nothing is ever certain.

“You may.” Hildebrand nods at Judge.

“As you are aware, Mercedes has been in my care for quite some time.”

“We are aware. A result of her involvement with her own brother’s poisoning, no doubt.”

Santi tenses beside me, and I want to look up at him and see his expression more than anything, but I know I can’t.

“It was a result of many different factors,” Judge replies coolly. “But first and foremost, I would say that it’s a direct result of her grief, the loss of her family, and the uncertainty of navigating such dark times. I will be the first to admit that Mercedes has had her troubles, but I will also be the first to tell you that she has come leaps and bounds from the young woman I first took into my care. She has proven herself to be generous, intelligent, soft-hearted, and gracious. Mercedes De La Rosa is a Society daughter, and with that comes expectations. She has learned, as many of us have, to portray herself in a favorable light at all times, despite any turmoil that might be lingering beneath the surface. I can assure you that the Mercedes you saw at dinner is not an accurate representation of the many layers in her. She has put on a brave face for the world, but there is more… so much more to her than anyone could ever know. I’m kindly asking you to take this into consideration before we proceed with a messy trial that will tarnish her reputation or the De La Rosa name.”

An uncomfortable silence falls over the courtroom as Judge’s words settle over us all. I’m staring at the back of his head, my heart beating three times faster than I know it probably should. Santi’s gaze is on him too. As are every pair of eyes up on the dais.

“I had no idea you had it in you to say so many thoughtful words about someone, Lawson,” Hildebrand snorts. “But I suppose you’ve had your practice, haven’t you? This is exactly the type of defense that would sway you in your own courtroom.”

The councilor’s response deflates me immediately, the small moment of comfort I felt from Judge’s testimony dissipating into the void. What Hildebrand said makes sense, and that’s far easier to believe than the genuine sentiments from a man who’s practically told me he’s incapable of love.

“If you aren’t here to listen to us testify to my sister’s character,” Santi interjects, “then what is the purpose of this charade?”

Hildebrand narrows his gaze at my brother before turning his appraising eyes on me. “Character testimony can be saved for later. You are correct in that, Santiago. Let’s get on with the questions then, shall we?”

He gestures with his hand, and I see he has a remote. It’s only after he presses a button that I realize they’re actually going to show us the surveillance footage. I feel like I’m going to be sick all over again as the white screen at the front of the room flickers to life, and the video starts to play.

It’s undoubtedly footage from Lana’s apartment. I recognize the setting right away, my eyes moving to the very lamp I used to end her life. I clutch at my stomach, swaying slightly as Santi holds me tighter in his grasp. And then I watch in horror as one of the worst nights of my life is replayed for me.

On screen, I enter the apartment, pushing my way inside as soon as she opens the door. We have words. She laughs in my face, denies ever betraying me as she looks me in the eyes and tells me I’m insane. I grab her by the arm and tell her she’s coming with me, trying to hold her hostage with the small knife in my other hand. In retrospect, it was a stupid move, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. All I knew was that my brother had almost died again, and she had done it. She had poisoned him, and there was no alternative. She had to pay. But things didn’t go the way I thought.

Lana had some kind of self-defense training, and it became obvious when she disarmed me quickly and tried to swing the knife at my throat. I blocked her with my purse and then threw it at her face before I launched myself at her with everything I had. We both tumbled to the floor, and the knife skittered beneath the sofa. But it didn’t end there.

She came at me with an unexpected fury inside her, throwing her fists at my ribs, my chest, my throat, anywhere she could reach. I hadn’t ever been in a physical fight before. I was fighting blindly, throwing out haphazard slaps and punches, when she flipped me onto my side and socked me in the gut so hard I couldn’t breathe. Then she grabbed me by the hair, slamming my head against the floor, disorienting me. That’s when she started to crawl for the knife, and I knew only one of us was getting out of there alive.

I don’t even know how I staggered to my knees and grabbed the heavy glass lamp from the table. It must have been a moment of adrenaline. A pure survival instinct. I didn’t wait for her fingers to latch around the knife before I slammed the fat end of the lamp against the back of her skull. It made contact with a thud, and she grunted as she collapsed but recovered far too quickly. She was still reaching, still trying to get the knife, and I knew if she did, I was dead.

I don’t know what came over me at that point, but it’s obvious to everyone I was more animal than human as I hit her in the side of the face with all my might. All my rage boiled to the surface as she fell back and hit the floor with a sickening crack. But still she slapped weak hands at me, even as I crawled on top of her and thrust the lamp down in her face. Again and again and again, I released my pain and anger over what she’d done. At the life she almost stole from me. The only family I had left.

It wasn’t until the glass finally shattered in my hands and my jarring bellows came to an abrupt halt that I realized she was no longer moving. Her face was unrecognizable. It was gory and disfigured, but it was the crimson oozing from her skull that sealed my fate. The reality I accepted far too slowly on the screen, holding my bloodied hands in front of me and releasing a heart-wrenching sob.

I watch silently as that alternate version of me whispers in horror at the realization of what she’s done. And even now, I can recall the pain lancing through my chest as I stupidly tried to revive her. As if I could. As if I wasn’t a fucking monster.

“That’s enough,” Santi’s choked voice echoes from beside me. “We get the point.”

I can’t bear to look at him. I know I can’t. I’m too terrified of what I might see in his eyes.

“I think the film speaks for itself.” Hildebrand uses the remote to turn off the screen, his eyes falling upon me again. “Will you deny what’s obvious, Ms. De La Rosa? You were there. The proof is indisputable.”

“I was there.” I hang my head, trying to hold back my tears. “I won’t deny it.”

“It was self-defense,” Santi snarls from beside me. “Anyone can see that.”

Despite my assurance I wouldn’t, I swivel my gaze to him, and more tears fill my eyes as I realize he’s not just saying it. He really does believe that.