Baby Just Say Yes

"All rise for the honorable Judge Georgia Burwood," the bailiff said to the packed courtroom two weeks later. Indeed, everyone rose from their seats, trying to catch a glimpse of Richard Coslov, who was standing rock solid at the defense's table, looking smug in one of his perfect suits, his salt-and-pepper gray hair in a perfect comb-over, his eyes cold sheets of ice. Rayleigh hid her face in Brian's shoulder when he turned his head slightly to the left to send her a danger-filled glance, and he kissed the top of her head, not paying attention to the media as they snapped photos of it.

"Mr. Richard Andrew Coslov, do you swear upon the Holy Bible, in the presence of all witnesses present and in the presence of God, to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" The bailiff asked her father, holding out a Bible in front of him. Her father turned his head to look at her again, and then he turned to the bailiff.

"Yes," he said coolly. The bailiff nodded, and then stepped away. "We will progress with calling Mr. Coslov to the stand." Her father walked to the chair, and his lawyer walked up to him.

"Mr. Coslov, do you believe you deserve to be here today?" He asked his client.

"Relevance, your honor!" The prosecution called out. The judge looked at her father and his lawyer.

"Get to the point, Mr. Toole,” the judge said, looking over at Toole. The lawyer sighed dramatically, then nodded, as if it were a great task.

"Very well. Why do you believe you are here today, Mr. Coslov?"

"Because my daughter pressed charges on me. My wife, as well. And several other...ah, people." Her father said, as if Brian and the others didn't deserve to be called human beings. His lawyer nodded.

"And what did you allegedly do?"

"I was charged with the attempted rape of a minor, attempted incest, four counts of attempted murder, and one count of a hostage situation.,” he listed in a bored tone of voice, as if these accusations were no big deal. Unable to help herself, Rayleigh coughed in panic, and Brian held her head to his shoulder.

"Baby, it’s alright,” Brian whispered quietly into her hair, pulling her close against him and wrapping his arms around her waist as he held her against him, trying to calm her down.

"Relevance, your honor!" The prosecution again called out. The judge sighed impatiently.

"Get to your point, Mr. Toole, or call upon a different witness,” the judge told Toole, who once again sighed, turning to give the jury a slick, warming smile before turning his attention back to his client.

"Would you ever intentionally hurt your daughter?" Toole asked Richard, who put on a perfect horror-filled look. Rayleigh had to control herself not to vomit on sight. She knew it was just a mask, and so did Brian, who glared at her father.

"Certainly not. I've done everything for Rayleigh,” Richard said, raising his head in a dignified manner as he looked over at his daughter. He knew he wasn’t allowed to say anything directly to her, but his gaze spoke volumes, and she began shaking in Brian’s tight hold, turning her gaze to the floor, unable to meet her father’s eyes any longer.

"You paid for her vehicle, correct?" Toole asked. Her father nodded.

"Yes. And I put aside a fund for her college, if she ever wanted to attend. And I started college funds for any future children she may have."

"Are you aware that she is pregnant, Mr. Coslov?" The lawyer asked with a smug grin on his face, turning to face Rayleigh as he said it. A sob escaped her mouth, and the press instantly turned their cameras from her father to her.

"My chambers. Now," the judge said, standing up, an angry look on her face. "Court is adjourned until ten tomorrow morning."

As everyone began standing up, the press made their way to Rayleigh, and made a tight circle around her.

"Is it true you're pregnant, Rayleigh?"

"Who's the father?"

"Are you getting an abortion?"

"Do you--"

"Enough!" The prosecutor called out, making her way over to Rayleigh, giving both her and Brian sympathy-filled looks. "Come with me, Mr. and Mrs. Haner."

The prosecutor led them to the back entrance of the courtroom, and to a squad car waiting for them outside. She gave them a sad look. "I'm afraid we can't do anything about what the media will print." She told them. "The best you can do is ignore them."

"I understand,” Rayleigh said in a strained voice as she leaned in to Brian’s shoulder, grateful for his warm arms as he held her.

"Your father will go back to prison, Rayleigh," The prosecutor promised her. "I won't sleep until I make it happen."

"You can't--" Rayleigh started. She cut her off.

"There's nothing to worry about, Rayleigh. Just get to your hotel room. Court will resume tomorrow morning at ten."

"They'll call me as a witness, won't they?" She asked, looking at the ground. Upon hearing her question, the prosecutor sighed and shot her another sympathy-filled look.

"Yes, they will. And they will try to make you look like the bad guy. But I promise ] that if you answer everything honestly, and I know you will, the jury will put your father in jail for a very long time."

"There's no proof," she sobbed all of a sudden, very hysterically. Brian pulled her to his chest, and the prosecutor shook her head.

"No, there is proof. There are pictures from the night he attempted to rape you, and the police took photographs of the wounds you, Brian, and your friends received when he tried to kill you. And proof for your cousin and uncle's attempted murders is merely the fact that they are still in the hospital, and have agreed to testify via satellite."

"Can I be sure he'll go to jail?" Rayleigh asked. The prosecutor smiled.

"Yes. Rest easy, Rayleigh. Go get a good night's sleep, and be ready to testify tomorrow morning."