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Dad’s new lawyer, Cameron, had so many stress lines on his face, it was a wonder he wasn’t dead from a perforated ulcer. He stood with me outside the courtroom.
“Are you certain all the charges against him are being dropped?” I asked. As much as I wanted this to be the case, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Yes, we’re certain. The District Attorney has already told me they are no longer pursuing the charges originally filed against your father, with the exception of withholding evidence.” He saw the look of alarm on my face and before I could jump in, he continued, “The DA is happy to let that one go on a time-served basis.”
“So he’ll be free to go if the judge agrees?”
“Yes.”
I sank onto one of the wooden benches that lined the corridor. When all this kicked off and Dad was arrested, I held on to the hope that one day, he’d be free again, cleared of all charges. But now it was finally happening, I was nervous. Dad was likely traumatized from his stint in prison. I knew he’d had a rough time, thanks to Silva’s associates. The fact he was still alive was a miracle.
After everything came to light, Norcross had arranged for Dad to be transferred to a low-security facility, so he would be safer from retaliatory attacks. That had reassured me somewhat, but until he was standing in front of me without armed guards flanking him, I refused to believe he was free.
Cameron had walked off to take a phone call while we waited for the judge’s decision. The waiting was killing me slowly. Cameron wouldn’t be the only one with a perforated ulcer soon.
My stomach roiled uncomfortably, unable to settle long enough for me to eat something. The only thing keeping me functioning right now was coffee. Which, thank God, was readily available. Even if it was utterly shit coffee brewed from filtered mud particles.
“Thought you might be ready for another one,” Quinn said as he dropped down beside me, two cups in hand. I recognized the brand name on the cups as the coffee shop two blocks away and smiled.
“You picked up my favorite!”
“A doppio macchiato with a shot of vanilla. Of course.” He rolled his eyes obnoxiously as if to say, please, give me some credit. “Any update?”
“Not yet. Cameron thinks the judge won’t take long now the DA is happy to let most of the charges drop.”
We sipped our coffees and waited. Harley had been called back to college for some practical assessment or other, which he’d been warned he couldn’t miss, and Brax was busy stepping into his role as the new CEO of Walker Industries. He told me he had no clue what he was doing, but I didn’t believe him. Brax’s grandmother had groomed him for years to take on this role, and I knew for a fact she wouldn’t have considered him if he wasn’t capable.
Brax still planned to complete his degree, but for now, the job came first. His tutors had given him special dispensation to study remotely, which meant he hadn’t returned to college with the rest of us.
Not gonna lie, I missed him, but we video chatted every night and while we were apart physically, the benefit of endless conversations meant I felt more connected to him emotionally.
His sisters were getting the psychological help they needed to process their father’s death, and Brax had also started seeing a counselor, one recommended by Quinn’s mother.
Things were good. All I needed now was for my father to be freed and then life could move on.
“How are you doing, Angel?” Quinn pulled me close, and I rested my head against his shoulder. As always, he smelled divine. Like pine trees with a side note of eucalyptus and pepper. Was it creepy to want to sniff his neck?
Probably. I wasn’t sure I cared.
“Nervous. I keep waiting for something to go wrong. For the judge to announce Dad is being sent to a Super Max for life, with zero chance of parole. Am I being stupid?”
“No, Angel, it’s understandable to expect the worst possible outcome given everything that’s happened, but Cameron is right, you really have nothing to worry about.”
“I hope so.”
We both looked up as Cameron hustled over. “The judge wants to see me in chambers. He’s ready to announce his decision.”
Quinn escorted me into a side room while we waited for the outcome of the conversation with the judge, the DA, and Cameron. The gray walls gave it an air of hopelessness. I wondered how many families had stood in this room waiting for news of their loved ones’ cases.
Although I’d seen Dad briefly when he arrived at the courthouse, we hadn’t had a chance to talk. He’d looked a bit better, at least. Less gaunt, with no obvious bruises marring his pale complexion.
Quinn squeezed my hand as we leaned against the wall and I examined the scuffed wooden floor. Loud ticking from a clock on the wall marked the passage of time oh-so-slowly. What was taking so long? Surely the judge had had his say by now?
A side door opened. Cameron walked in, closely followed by Dad. Dad’s smile told me all I needed to know, but still, I hesitated. Was the rug about to be pulled from under me?
Dad and Cameron talked for a few moments then Cameron left.
“Are you free?” I asked tentatively.
