When Russell finished asking Samantha questions and sat down, Schlosser was finishing a quiet discussion with his assistants. After a moment, they all nodded at each other.

Schlosser stood up and said, “Your honor, due to the unforeseen developments regarding the evidence in this case, the state has decided to drop all charges against the defendant.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Schlosser? I don’t want to come back and do this again,” the judge said.

“Yes, your honor,” Schlosser said.

“Let the record show that in the matter of the State of California vs. Christos Manos, case number SD-2013-K-071183A,” the judge intoned, “the State has dropped all charges. She banged her gavel. “Case dismissed. Mr. Manos, you are free to go.”

For a second, I couldn’t believe my ears.

The huge smile that spread across Russell’s face proved that I hadn’t been hallucinating. “Congratulations, son,” he said while shaking my hand and squeezing my shoulder vigorously, “let’s agree never to do this again. Feel me?”

“Agreed,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

He pointed at me with a jabbing finger. “I mean it, son. No more bullshit. You’ve got better things to do than waste my time in a courtroom.”

“You know me too well,” I smiled. “I promise, no more courtroom bullshit.”

With any luck, I’d be able to live up to my promise.

* * *

SAMANTHA


I practically jumped over the witness stand trying to get to Christos when the judge dismissed the case.

Christos came out from behind the defense table and I leapt into his arms.

“We did it!” I squealed.

He spun me around once and set me down. “No, you did it, agápi mou. You won this case single handed.” He glanced at his lawyer and said, “I mean, Russell helped, but you, Samantha, stole the show. Samantha, meet my attorney, Russell Merriweather. He’s an old friend of the family.”

I shook Russell’s hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Christos is right, Ms. Smith,” Russell smiled. “You should send him a bill.”

I grinned. “Nah, I’ll figure out a way to make him pay for it with services rendered.”

Christos chuckled. “Gladly.”

Brianna Johnson walked around the defense table and frowned at Christos. “Christos, how could you forget to mention to Russell and I that your girlfriend was at the crime scene?”

Christos shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

“You could’ve saved yourself a whole lot of time and trouble had you told us sooner,” Brianna admonished.

Christos cracked out a dimpled grin. “I was trying to save Samantha a whole lot of time and trouble.” He rubbed his hand against my shoulder. “She has better things to do.”

I rolled my eyes at him. “Russell was right, Christos. You are crazy!” I looked at Brianna for agreement.

She gave me a sisterly smile and shook her head, “Men! I swear, if it wasn’t for us women, they wouldn’t be able to tie their own shoes!”

“I know, right?” I smiled.

“Hey,” Christos quipped, “I’m standing right here.”

“Good. Then maybe what we’re saying might sink in.” Brianna winked at me. “Despite his thick head, Christos is a good young man. But don’t you let him weasel out of doing a few chores to make up for all the trouble he’s put you through.”

“I won’t,” I smiled.

Spiridon walked up a moment later with someone who could only be Christos’ dad. They both exchanged big hugs with Christos.

“The Manos men,” Russell said proudly, smiling at all three of them, “all up in this here thing.”

“Samantha,” Christos said, “I want you to meet my dad, Nikolos Manos.”

I shook Nikolos’ hand. He looked like a slightly older version of Christos. He was as dashing as his son and had the same priceless blue eyes. Seeing the three of them together, it was obvious that Christos was going to be painfully gorgeous at every stage of life. I know people said that George Clooney got better looking as he got older, but Nikolos and Spiridon put poor George to shame.

“I’ve heard all about you,” Nikolos smiled. “My father tells me that you’re a good young woman, and a talented artist too. Maybe you could teach my son a thing or two about painting. He needs all the help he can get,” he winked.

Spiridon smiled at me. “Yes. Samoula has moved into the house to be Christos’ private painting tutor. Isn’t that right, koritsáki mou?” He patted me affectionately on the shoulder.

I was so overwhelmed by all of it, the relief that Christos’ trial was over and the sense of having a family that I absolutely adored, that I couldn’t speak. I smiled and nodded my reply as tears blurred my vision. I did my best to hold them in as the group of us walked out of the courtroom together.

Now that it was over, I secretly hoped that would be the last time I ever set foot in a courtroom. Between Taylor Lamberth, Damian Wolfram, and Christos, I’d had enough trials to last a lifetime.

* * *

CHRISTOS


I inhaled a deep breath of mellow afternoon air as we stood in front of the Hall of Justice in the San Diego sun.

I was free.

It still hadn’t quite sunk in. Part of me had been fully prepared to be led out of the courtroom in handcuffs and trucked off to prison after my trial. The foggy claws of that fear still nicked at the back of my neck. Not to worry. They’d fade. I was in the clear. I was with my family and friends, and I was free.

“Who wants to celebrate?” I smiled. “I was thinking drinks and dinner at the Yard House up the street? I’m buying.”

“You’ve spent enough money on me already,” Russell smiled. “We can all head over there and I’ll pick up the tab.”

“Christos Manos?” some random guy walked up and asked abruptly. He had come from the direction of the Hall of Justice and wore an expensive suit and held a briefcase. Was he a court clerk or something?

I narrowed my eyes. “Who wants to know?”

“Are you Christos Manos?” the guy asked again.

Now that I’d had a chance to look at him, he didn’t seem threatening. But he held a thick white business envelope in his hand. “Yeah, I’m him. What do you want?”

The guy raised his arm and jabbed the envelope at me. “You’ve been served.”

I shook my head and took the envelope from him. He immediately walked away.

“Christos, Christos, Christos,” Russell sighed. “What is it this time, young man?”

I opened the envelope and read the paperwork.

“What?” Samantha asked, worried.

I sighed heavily. “Hunter Blakeley is suing me.”

“What? Why?” Samantha frowned. “Because you tripped him that day at SDU?”

She was referring to the time I’d walked up on Hunter giving shit to her and Romeo in the Eucalyptus grove on campus. “No. Because I punched him in the face.”

“When?” Samantha asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I want to know,” Russell interrupted. He took the summons from me. “And I want to know who all was involved. No more of these last minute surprises.” He scanned over the paperwork. “This is a civil suit, Christos. He’s suing you for damages. Did you hit him?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “But it was self defense.”

“I’m sure it was,” Russell said.

I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. He was probably pissed that I’d walked out of one trial and right into another. I couldn’t blame him.

“Look,” I said, “A couple weeks ago, Hunter and three of his buddies followed me and Jake after we left Hooters. Hunter took a swing at me, so I back-handed him in the nose. Once.”

Russell pursed his lips while his brow knotted over his dark eyes. “Sounds familiar. Unfortunately, a civil trial isn’t like a criminal trial, son. If you hit him, you’re probably going to have to pay. The only thing I can do is work to minimize what you’ll owe him.” He flipped through several pages of the document. “Which, in this case, is a whole hell of a lot. This guy’s attorney is asking for a million in medical bills, lost wages, and pain and suffering. We can cut that down quite a bit. But I might not be able to make it all go away. May I ask, did you have a film crew on hand to save your ass in court this time around?”

“I doubt it,” I said. “It was the middle of the night on an empty street. No one was there except Jake and the three guys with Hunter.”

“All right,” Russell said. “We’ll figure it out. In the mean time, may I please beg that you not get in any more fights? Is that possible? Or am I asking for water from a stone?”

Everyone was staring at me expectantly. Samantha, my dad, my grandad, Brianna, and Russell. All had skeptical looks on their faces.

“Come on, guys,” I pleaded, “the only reason any of this shit started is because I was defending Samantha. The first time at her VW, the second time in the Eucalyptus grove at SDU. Hunter never would’ve cornered me and Jake that night if I hadn’t tripped him that day at SDU. He was still pissed I’d made him look foolish.”

“While your actions have been honorable,” Russell admonished, “the next time there’s trouble, I encourage you to run the other way. Feel me?” He raised a doubtful eyebrow, but a slight smile betrayed his seriousness.

“What about Samantha?” I asked. “What if I need to protect her? I’m not going to leave her in trouble.”

“You’re a strong boy,” Russell smirked. “Pick her up, throw her over your shoulder, and run.”

I chuckled, “I can handle that.”

Russell put a big hand on the back of my neck. “All right, you all. I’ve had enough courtroom drama for one day. Let’s get some dinner.”

We all walked east on Broadway and went inside the Yard House. Since it was early and the dinner rush hadn’t set in, we got a table for six right away.