“I love you,” I whispered.
A grin spread across his face, his cheeks pinking. “I love you, too. But what brought that on?”
“I’m excited about starting the next chapter of our lives today. After this, I mean.”
“Me, too.”
Pamela looked at the two of us and rolled her eyes. “You guys are so lame.”
Jeff and I chuckled. I started to zing her back, but the door opened again.
And there he was. My father. My breath caught, and I heard Pamela gasp.
He looked like he’d aged twenty years in the three months since we’d seen him. His hair was gray and scruffy, and his skin looked pasty, like he hadn’t seen the sun in years. His prison garb was a hideous green. Didn’t defendants usually wear a suit? Maybe I had watched too many crime shows.
His eyes scanned the room until they landed on us. He stopped walking until a guard nudged him to continue. I shivered at the coldness in his eyes. He looked at Jeff, then gave an expression of disgust. He turned to sit at the table alone, apparently waiting for his lawyer.
A chill ran down my spine and I wanted to get this over with immediately. I glanced at my grandparents. My grandpa had his arm around Grandma, her head on his shoulder. God, I hoped this wasn’t too much for them.
The door opened behind us and a man in an expensive-looking suit entered, quickly joining my father at the table.
The woman by the judge’s desk stood. “All rise for the Honorable Judge Hyatt.”
We stood as a tall man in a black robe entered and sat at the desk. He told us we could be seated, and as I did, I felt dizzy. My chest tightened, but I closed my eyes and used the counting trick Dr. Ottinger had taught me, and in under a minute, I regained control. I’m sure Jeff’s hand on my back rubbing small circles probably helped more than the counting, but either way, I didn’t give in to the panic.
I listened as the judge spoke to the lawyers, confirming the plea deal, before turning to my father. “Mr. Daniel Pickard, please rise.”
My chest tightened again and I held Pamela’s hand. Jeff squeezed my other hand and we all held our breath as he rose from his chair.
“Mr. Pickard, do you admit to killing Ruth Pickard?”
My father nodded.
“Mr. Pickard, you need to speak in court,” the judge reminded him.
“Yes, your honor.” He sounded old. Feeble.
“Please elaborate for the court.”
He shrugged. “I don’t remember doing anything. I was…drunk.”
Rage consumed me. I fought the urge to stand and scream out for my mother. He couldn’t remember? He’d destroyed her life and caused her to die, but he claimed not to remember?
“There were witnesses that stated”—the judge flipped through some paperwork—”you beat your wife and continued kicking her even as she bled on the floor.”
“Yes.”
I heard my grandma sniffle, and saw that Grandpa had a tight grip around her.
The room fell silent as the judge stared at my father. “Sir, do you understand what is going on here?”
He nodded again.
“Sir, you must speak,” he reminded again.
“I understand. And yes, I understand the beating I gave my wife is what led to her death.”
“Thank you. You may sit.”
That was it? I looked at Jeff, pressing my lips together. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but this definitely wasn’t it. There’d been no apology, no remorse. Nothing.
Jeff mouthed, “Hang in there.”
So I stayed put, but my entire body vibrated with anger. He wasn’t sorry. It was clear in his voice. He almost sounded irritated that he had to be here.
“I understand the victim’s son, Aaron Pickard, would like to make an impact statement. Are you here?”
I rose, letting go of Jeff’s and Pamela’s hands. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Come to the front of the room, son.”
I pulled out my statement and took a deep breath. As I passed my father, I didn’t even look at him for fear I’d vomit. Instead, I faced the judge.
“My father’s hatred ended my mom’s life. She protected us from him for years and never did anything to deserve the almost daily abuse he inflicted on her.” Tears sprang to my eyes and my voice began to waver. “He never truly loved her or me or my sister, Pamela. I know that now.” I wiped away the tears as they fell down my cheeks, then looked at the judge, shrugging. “I had a hard time writing down what I was feeling, but now I think I just want to say what’s in my heart, if that’s okay?”
“Of course, Aaron.”
I took a deep breath and braced myself before turning to finally face my father. He sneered at me and looked away. Anger bubbled up inside me. I glanced at Jeff, and his gaze met mine. The connection between us was enough to comfort me.
I blew out my breath. Strange, but all my life I’d been afraid to speak my mind to him, and yet, here I was, with the chance of a lifetime. I could tell him I hated him. I could tell him he was worthless. I could tell him he was an evil monster.
But that wouldn’t bring my mom back. And I would be sinking to his level.
Instead, I chose love.
“I’ve learned a lot over the last few months. As Pamela and I go forward with our lives, I don’t want to be thinking about you or what you did. I want it over. So, I’m not saying I forgive you—I’m not to that point yet. But I don’t hate you. I pity you. You had an amazing family and you lost it. No, that’s not true—you threw us all away. Mom…was beautiful and loving and lightness, and she tried so hard to make up for the lack of love we received from you. She deserved better than what happened.
“Today is the last day I will speak to you. What you have done will shape the rest of my life, as well as Pamela’s. But we refuse to give in to the anger and hatred. We choose to love our family. Our friends. We choose to respect others. We choose kindness. That’s what Mom taught us. It’s something you can’t take from us no matter how much you want to. Goodbye.”
He hadn’t bothered to look in my direction the entire time I spoke, but as I walked by, he whispered something under his breath.
I stopped. “What?”
“I said faggot. I don’t need you to judge me.”
I found myself looking into his blackened soul. He truly hated me for being who I was. A chill spread through me and I looked at him with pity, shaking my head.
I shoved my crumpled paper into a pocket and returned to my seat. Next to Jeff. Where I belonged.
He took my hand and Pamela leaned against my side as we listened to the judge tell my father he was being sentenced to fifteen years. Once again, he showed no emotion and I was glad he wasn’t looking at us. I never wanted Pamela to see the evil I’d just seen. Although, to be fair, she’d already seen it. She was there the night he beat our mother so badly we had to call 911.
It was over in minutes, and my father shuffled out without another glance in our direction. Over. We made our way into the hall and I immediately wrapped my arms around Jeff.
“I’m so proud of you, baby,” he whispered and kissed the top of my head.
“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kind of proud of myself. I wanted to cuss at him. Tell him what he really was. But that would’ve made me like him, wouldn’t it?”
“You’re nothing like him. Nothing.”
I smiled at Jeff. My biggest champion.
“That was wonderful.” Grandpa patted my back. “Very mature, Aaron.” He wiped at his eyes with his other hand. “You were right to ignore him, too.”
We stood talking for a while until Jeff and I reminded them we needed to go.
They all gave us hugs, then made both of us promise to call and text often.
When Judy hugged me, I started crying. “Thank you for taking me in.”
“You will always be part of our family, Aaron. There is no thanks needed.” She hugged me tighter before letting me go.
I’d heard the phrase about w
eight being lifted from shoulders. I first experienced its meaning several months ago when I finally came out of the closet, and that’s exactly what I experienced now by leaving my father behind and beginning my new life.
Jeff and I walked hand-in-hand to the parking lot.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” I murmured.
“Happy?” he asked as we reached our vehicles, parked next to each other.
I leaned against the driver’s door of his truck and smiled. “‘Happy’ doesn’t even begin to describe it. I think maybe that was closure for me. Knowing he can’t hurt me ever again—or Pamela—it’s like I can finally breathe.”
Jeff braced his arms on the window, on either side of my head. “I’m glad, Aaron. Nobody deserves that kind of abuse.”
I rested my head against the window. “It’s a whole new life.”
He grinned. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, yeah. Are you?”
“Are we going to break our new room in tonight?”
I licked my lips. “I guess that depends on you.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean, if you keep looking at me like that, I may drop to my knees right here and now, then we’ll never get to the dorm on time.”
His eyes grew dark and he pressed closer. “Oh, yeah?”
I swallowed over the lump in my throat as he hardened against my hip. “Yeah.”
Jeff brushed his lips against mine in a soft, teasing kiss. “Then I guess we need to get the hell out of here,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.
“Well, maybe one more little kiss,” I whispered back before his lips claimed mine.
Oh, yeah, I was going to like this new life. Well, new in many ways, but one thing would stay the same—even as new classes and new experiences filled our days, Jeff would still be holding me every night. And that was the most exciting prospect of all.
THE END
ABOUT SARAH HADLEY BROOK
Sarah Hadley Brook reserves her evenings for her hobby-turned-passion of writing, letting the characters she conjures up in her mind take the lead and show her where the story will go. She dreams of traveling to Scotland someday and visiting the places her ancestors lived. Sarah believes in “Happily Ever After” and strives to ensure her characters find their own happiness in love and life.
For more information, visit sarahhadleybrookwrites.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small queer press with competitive royalty rates publishing LGBT romance, erotic romance, and young adult fiction. Visit jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
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