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The prosecution team went first, wasting a couple hours bringing in witness after witness to tell the tales of how I’d shoved Devon into lockers, threatened him, all the bullshit teenagers do in high school. Not a goddamn one of them met my gaze while spewing their shit—even if they did speak the truth.
And my lawyer? Didn’t cross-examine. What could he ask that would refute their words?
It would all come down to Addilyn.
Recess gave us a break from the monotony, but I twitched to return to the courtroom, my knee bouncing, my stomach tight. I skipped the provided lunch, anxious to finally see my princess, have her words set me free.
We traipsed back in after recess, and Devon took the stand. His words confirmed everything already stated by his friends and even the football’s team captain I’d also gotten into it with. Unlike everyone else though, Devon looked at me while answering, his smug smirks and hard gaze so like his father’s that I wanted to wreck him again.
Re-break his nose. Knock him the fuck out.
Bathe in his fucking blood and bury him six feet under.
My entire body tensed, hands fisted in my cuffs and jaw clenched. I stared the fucker down, hating his freedom to pursue what belonged to me—what had always been mine and I hadn’t been man enough to own.
I became obsessed the first time I had seen her, and not taking what I wanted had landed me in more trouble than claiming her ever would’ve.
Devon stepped down from the witness stand without being cross-examined by my lawyer with a swagger I wanted to knock off-kilter. My glare stayed on him until he sat.
The cop that had come for me with Sheriff Bradshaw took the stand next—what the fuck for, I had no clue. The prosecuting attorney announced evidence, giving papers to the judge—and handing the same to the cop.
“Can you please tell the jury what you found, Officer Shearer?” he asked.
Records.
My records, the ones supposedly wiped clean. Erased—by Dad.
The entire goddamn jury seemed to lean forward, breath held while listening to the shit from my past.
I turned, and Dad held my gaze with a steady one of his own. Cold.
Un-fucking moved.
Unapologetic.
Three prior arrests as a juvenile—for physically assaulting other assholes who’d pissed me off. Broken nose, dislocated shoulder, and a bruised spleen, whatever the fuck that was.
My jaw fucking ached from clenching it as my stomach rolled. Sweat broke out on my forehead even though chills swept up my spine.
The fucker had turned his back on me, planned to help put me away.
All for free access to the one he had truly moved us to Alaska for.
Addilyn Jane Reed.
My princess.
The only one who could save me.
The prosecution called her in, and the court doors creaked open.
She stepped into the room, her mother on her heels—but I didn’t give that cunt a second of my time.
White-blond hair pinned atop Addilyn’s head. Wide gaze flitting around the courtroom with every hesitant step up the aisle—landing on me last.
My breath left with a grunt at the fear, the need in her eyes as that connection between us once more slammed into place. Arms aching to hold her, fingers digging into my thighs to keep from reaching for her, I stared as she ripped her focus off me. She faced the seat awaiting her like it was some goddamn electric chair that would zap and claim her life if she spoke one wrong word while her mother settled onto the bench behind me.
Addilyn’s hand trembled while reaching to lay it atop the Bible. Her gaze flitted toward me and away again as she swore to speak nothing but the truth.
Tell the truth that’s in your heart, princess, I wanted to whisper in her ear, give her all the strength she needed to get through the trial of our lives.
She sat, hands hidden behind the stand but without a doubt primly folded atop the suit pants she wore. The jacket couldn’t hide her slouched shoulders, nor the shimmery makeup her pale face and red rimmed eyes.
Addilyn shot one last glance my way, and the questions started.
