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Forever & More: The Friend Zone series

Page 18

by Thompson, Tabetha


  “Yeah, I’m starved. That sounds like a great idea.” Sara bounces excitedly from her chair. We all laugh at her enthusiasm. Harley grabs Sara’s chair as we all say our goodbyes. I trail behind them, lost in all things Skye.

  I was sure he would have come to the trial, but I didn’t see him. He could have been in the back of the room, I guess. I didn’t really pay much attention to the people seated back there, so it’s a very good possibility. Was he with Jay? I hope he wouldn’t do that, knowing the hurt it would cause me, but he did leave with her yesterday. I don’t know how he could’ve done that in front of my face. How could he move from me to someone else so quickly, knowing that I’m carrying his child?

  A small, salty drop of liquid trails down my cheek. I reach up and wipe it away. This time, when we enter the hallway, there are several police officers and no press. I’m beyond relieved for the lack of chaos. We enter the elevator and make the short ride up to the level we parked on. When we climb off the cart, I stumble in the threshold but quickly catch myself.

  I look up and see Sara and Harley a few steps in front of me, both waiting for me to catch up. Something moving catches my eyes. A tall, muscular frame is walking around the corner. His dark hair and build look identical to Skye’s. It couldn’t be, could it? My stomach begins to flutter as I shout at him to wait up.

  I race in his direction, leaving Harley screaming at me to come back and to wait. I don’t listen to a word they say. My mind and body are on a mission and that’s to get to him. When I turn the corner, he’s gone. I drop to my knees, sobbing loudly. It was him, I know it was. How could he walk away from me like that?

  Strong arms embrace me, then help me stand. Before any words can be uttered, my phone goes off. I dig frantically in my purse for the device. When I finally pull it out, an unknown number is displayed on the screen.

  “Hello?” I carefully ask.

  “The verdict is in. They are giving everyone an hour to get back to the courthouse,” Catledge replies.

  “Already? Wow, thank you.” I stumble all over my words.

  “Don’t get your hopes up just yet. It just means they reached a decision. Not that the decision is in our favor. I will be waiting in the lobby when you get back.”

  I tell him okay and we end the call. I relay the conversation to Sara and Harley and we race back to the courtroom.

  None of us says a word as we pass through the pristine white hallways and vaulted ceilings. As much as I try to convince myself that I’m okay, I know I’m not. My thoughts wage war with each other. Images of Skye walking away from me in the parking garage haunt me, thoughts of Todd being hauled away to spend his days in a concrete room lined with bars lifts my spirits. The up and down motion of my thoughts cause me to become nauseous.

  I focus on my feet steadily walking across the large marble squares. I run into the back of Harley and realize we’ve reached the room we just left. He opens the door and we enter. I do the same thing I did the last time when I entered this room. Thirteen stripes, fifty stars, one pole, one ball and one eagle reigning from its golden perch. A symbol of liberty, freedom, justice, and hope. I can only pray that the flag that represents this justice system sways in my favor.

  We slide in our familiar seats and sit quietly, waiting for everyone else. One by one, over the next half hour, people begin to trickle into the room. A thick, anxious air hangs heavy in the room, fogging up the space and making it difficult for me to breathe. Someone slides in next to me and when I look over to see who it is, I’m staring into the face of none other than Brady. Kasey slides in next to him a second later, followed by the rest of the employees at BAR. Erin & Anna smile sincerely in my direction.

  “How you holdin’ up, girly?” Kasey asks, breaking the silence.

  “I’m here. You doin’ all right?” I ask. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Kasey, but he looks exactly the same. Young, muscular, and happy. The lights in the room make his red hair glow a vibrant, burnt orange color that settles just below his chin.

  “It’s almost over. Then you can really put this shit behind you and move on,” Brady comments and I nod.

  “Where’s Skye?” I can’t help but ask. The unknown is killing me. Everyone is here but him and Jay. Are they together right now? Why would he miss the verdict? After everything that’s happened, it just makes absolutely no sense to me that he’s not here. Is she the reason he’s not here? Did she give him some sort of ultimatum?

  Something about Skye missing just doesn’t feel right, but I don’t know if it’s because it’s out of character or if it’s because I feel abandoned.

  Brady doesn’t meet my eyes when he tells me he hasn’t spoken to Skye. I don’t dig though; I would do the same for Sara if I needed to. It’s not Brady’s fault I pushed Skye away. I, unfortunately, have to own up to that one.

  Catledge enters the room and sets his briefcase on the table in front of me.

  “I was waiting for you in the lobby.” Shit, I forgot he was going to wait on me out there.

  “I’m sorry, I was so focused on getting in here I didn’t think about it. Is there a particular reason you wanted to meet with me? Do we have time to step in the hall?” I fire at him.

  “No, it’s all right. I was going to give you a quick briefing on how this usually plays out, but I’m sure you’ve seen something close to it on television. Since this is the state versus him, it pertains to you but at the same time, it doesn’t. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes. I understand exactly what you’re saying,” I reply.

  Todd enters the room, escorted by his police entourage, and Brady grabs my hand. I try pull from his grasp but his grip tightens. I realize that he’s not holding on to me for my sake, it’s more for him. If he lets go, I fear he may fly across the room and end up in his own set of cuffs. I link my fingers with his and give his vice-like fingers a small reassuring squeeze.

  He gives my pink manicure a confused look, like he didn’t realize he was gripping my hand. I squeeze again to silently let him know that it’s okay.

  The next several minutes are filled with more people entering the room and eventually the judge is seated on her throne. Judge Maxwell goes through her speech about why we are here.

  “Please bring the jury in,” she announces.

  One by one, all twelve of the selected and sworn individuals enter the room, they remain standing.

  “Todd Philip Lucas, the defendant has been charged with first-degree home invasion; assault with a deadly weapon with the intent to kill; intent to commit vehicular manslaughter in the first degree; possession with the intent to distribute. All are felony charges. If the defendant is found guilty, he will be sentenced twenty to life with no chance of parole. Mr. Lucas has plead not guilty to first-degree home invasion; guilty to assault with a deadly weapon; not guilty to intent to commit vehicular manslaughter; not guilty to the possession charge. Jury, have you reached your verdict? Will the elected foreperson please stand?”

  A man with silver hair, a full beard, and a large but soft frame stands. He hands a paper over to the bailiff, who in turn takes it to the judge.

  She silently looks over every piece of paper before looking down at Todd from her bench. Her eyes stay on him for a moment before switching to the jury box and back to the foreman.

  “Mr. Foreman, this is the verdict that has been unanimously decided?” she asks.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” the man nervously announces.

  “And everyone agrees to this verdict?” she asks all twelve jurors.

  They all nod their head in unison.

  Judge Maxwell begins to read from the documents in front of her. “As to the charge of first-degree home invasion, we the jury, find the defendant guilty, so say we all.” She continues with the rest of the courtroom jargon of case numbers and dates and the location of the courthouse, all of which I don’t hear once the word guilty left her mouth.

  She continues, catching my attention again, “As to the charge of assault wit
h a deadly weapon, we the jury, find the defendant guilty, so say we all.”

  I zone out the mutters in the room and only focus on her words, “intent to kill.” I’m chewing so angrily on my fingernails I can taste a twinge of blood.

  “We the jury, find the defendant guilty, so say we all,” she continues and I exhale a lung full of stale oxygen.

  The charges continue, intent to commit vehicular manslaughter in the first degree and possession with the intent to distribute. My eyes begin to sting with unshed tears as I hear the verdict being read after each charge—guilty. I grip Brady’s hand so tightly I can feel his knuckles pop but he doesn’t say a word.

  I can breathe clean, fresh, precious oxygen. A weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and I feel free.

  “Todd Philip Lucas, you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers on all accused accounts. First-degree home invasion, assault with a deadly weapon with the intent to kill, intent to commit vehicular manslaughter in the first degree and possession with the intent to distribute. You are hereby sentenced to life with no chance of parole. I also grant Miss Thomas’ request for a restraining order. You are prohibited from contact or communication with Miss Thomas now or in the future. Juror’s, thank you for serving this court, you are free to go.” She slams the gavel for the last time.

  The jurors stand and begin to exit. No one says a word until Todd is being hauled away. He starts fighting the guards.

  “You stupid bitch! You think this is over? Not by a fucking long shot!” he screams.

  Brady places a protective arm around me and I turn into his embrace. Todd is dragged out of the courtroom and Brady whispers in my ear. “I’ve got you, C. He can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” The words sound wrong coming from his mouth. That isn’t his promise to make me. I give him an awkward smile and step from his grasp.

  Sara’s arms extend in front of her and I fall into her lap, wrapping my arms around her neck. We cry tears of joy and relief. It’s really over. My life is going to be mine again. No longer will I be haunted by what may be lurking around the corner. I don’t have to worry about Todd catching up to me and making my life hell.

  “It’s finally over,” I breathe a sigh of relief and whisper into her neck.

  Guilty! That’s the only word I hear outside of the courtroom. I didn’t go inside like I had done earlier today. I couldn’t risk it again. Running from Chloe in the parking garage was the second hardest thing I’ve ever done. The first being letting her go after what she tried to do to my child. It’s only been one day since I went into hiding, as Harley puts it, but it feels like an eternity.

  I can hear people cheering from the other side of the door, I should be in there cheering with them. Congratulating Catledge for a job well done and hugging my friends in victory, but it’s not possible. She’s probably searching me out right now and I can’t let her see me like this. The swollen tissue has diminished some, but the bruises have only faded slightly. My nose is angled to the left and my lip busted. If she sees me, she’ll know.

  The DA knew the moment he saw me, he didn’t ask, but I could still see the concern in his eyes when I met with him this morning before the trial.

  I arrived at the courthouse before everyone else. As I make the familiar trip to District Attorney Catledge’s office, I stare at the white tile. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this. I lick my busted lip and can still taste the blood. My jaw aches from the fists it survived yesterday, but is now combined with the tension from grinding my teeth.

  The large, wooden door that leads to his office comes into view. I take a deep breath and knock three times before I hear someone calling for me to come in. I open the door and step inside, John Catledge is seated at his large desk signing several papers.

  “Can I hel—” His words stop when he looks up and see’s my appearance. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.” I brush him off. “Do you need me for anything in particular today?”

  “No, today is closing arguments and then the jurors will hopefully come to their verdict and this whole thing will be over,” he responds. His eyes take in every bruise slowly as he tries to figure out the reason behind my new injuries.

  “Well, in that case, I’m going to be in the back of the courtroom. I felt like I needed to let you know just in case you needed me for anything,” I reply.

  I’m really not sure why I told him all of this or felt like I needed to come down here to his office. I just did.

  “Here.” He grabs a business card out of a container on his desk and scribbles something on the back. “That’s my personal number. If you need anything, call me. I don’t care if you’re in trouble or if you just need someone to talk to. Use it,” he demands.

  I take it and thank him. We both stand in an awkward silence for a moment before I start to back out of the room. A thought occurs to me and I’m not sure why, but I feel like I can confide in him. I’m not ready to let him in on what’s going on, but he might be able to help me with one thing I may need in the near future.

  “You know any good private investigators?” I ask.

  “You’re looking at the best my man. Again, use the number I just gave you.” He gathers his belongings and stuffs them in his chocolate colored briefcase.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have an asshole to put in jail for a very long time.” He smiles.

  We exit the office together, walking side by side down the long hallway until we get close to the elevators in the main lobby. I hear a ding, and then my feet stop moving while I watch Harley and Sara exit the cart. Chloe follows, dressed in all black. Her hands rest on her midsection in a protective gesture and she glides across the marble floor. Her skin glows against the dark clothes she’s wearing. My hands itch to run my fingers through her soft waves and watch the sun-kissed strawberry color of her hair glow against my tan skin.

  We are in complete contrast; where I’m hard, she’s soft. Where I’m rough, she’s gentle. Where I’m happy, she’s sad. It’s that last one that causes my eyes to sting. I can’t think like this today. The DA has long since left my side, so I make sure there’s a great distance between Chloe and me before I follow them to the room where the trial will be taking place.

  When I know the coast is clear, I find a seat in the back of the room in a hidden corner so she can’t see me. I watch her the entire time without shame.

  “Oh, sorry,” a man says as he runs straight into me. I take a step back and notice the press badge around his neck. I decide now is as good of a time as any to get out of there before anyone recognizes me.

  “No problem, man,” I politely reply. My back is now facing the man and I’m power walking down the hall. I frantically jab the elevator button, silently begging it to hurry. It dings and I’m in it, stabbing the “door close” key in the same manner I just assaulted the other button. As the doors close, I see Chloe walk out of the courtroom, Brady’s arm is wrapped around her as he escorts her toward me.

  He looks up as the doors start closing. Our eyes meet and his thick reddish eyebrows raise in surprise. He gives me an apologetic look already knowing that I don’t like his hands on her. The doors close and I’m left alone in solitude with nothing to do but let my mind wander and stew in my anger.

  What the fuck was that about? So help me God, I’ll kill him if he’s making a move on her. Why would she act so comfortable in his embrace? Has something been going on under my nose? Have I been ignorant to the things going on around me and missed this huge neon sign that pointed to the two of them having a thing?

  My mind taunts me with questions and when those run out, I start overanalyzing every moment they were around each other while I was there. Every laugh he pulled from her lips. The other day in the kitchen, when he put his arm around her and she flinched. Was that because she didn’t want to be obvious instead of her not wanting to be touched?

  It’s excruciating! Every single memory is relived and picked through like the dollar
bin at Target. I’m at my Jeep already and don’t even remember the walk here, I’m lost in my mind. Brady would never do that to me though, would he? I have to be overreacting. I guess the only thing I can do is wait it out. One thing at a time, I remind myself.

  I climb in the cab of my vehicle, turn the ignition and the engine comes to life. I navigate the narrow lanes out of the building, then do the same for the streets until I’m behind BAR. I climb out and start to shut the door, but a small, book in the backseat catches my eye. I push the driver door closed, then open the backdoor.

  My hand lands on the small book, I recognize it. It’s Chloe’s journal. How the hell did it get here? I look around the alley and grab the book. I use my key to enter BAR. There are no lights on, the room is completely black. There’s no sound, no patrons, nothing. It’s like walking in to some weird twilight zone. Like stepping into nothing. The back door closes and I see nothing.

  I pull out my phone to light a path to the upstairs apartment. When I enter, everything is exactly like Brady had described. It’s a man cave, a bachelor pad. Dirty clothes are thrown all over the leather furniture, there’s four inches of dust on everything. Empty beer cans are on every flat surface. This place is a mess, that’s for damn sure. I walk in and set Chloe’s journal on the counter. Brady told me he had packed a bag and was going to crash at Kasey’s. He mentioned that he hadn’t touched any of Tom’s stuff when we settled his estate. Hell, I didn’t even know the room was up here. So, since I’m laying low, I think maybe looking here would be the best place to start in finding this money trail.

 

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