Falling In Hard: Book Four in The Bridgeport Lake Summer Series

by Danielle Arie

We stopped at a light, Muscles and Wispy chatting it up together and completely ignoring us, or at least, that’s what it seemed like, but this place was a whole different planet. No. That was too close. Being in LA was like being in a totally different solar system.

  “Okay, fine. I’m all ears.”

  He chuckled and slid his hands inside his pockets as we crossed the street. “From here on out, we have each other’s backs. No matter what. No insults, no blindsides, just friends looking out for friends.”

  “You really mean that, Keller?”

  He grinned. “Absolutely.”

  “I think I can get on that ship.”

  “Think so?” Something was different in the way he was looking at me. Something that reminded me of the way Cory looked at me before he said the three most important words a guy could ever say to a girl. Kyle flicked his eyes to the street and grinned. “I mean, we’ve already done the frenemy thing, right? Might as well go all in.”

  I brushed off that weird feeling, because I was obviously making it up. “For sure.”

  I don’t know what I was expecting Muscles and Wispy’s house to look like. Maybe, since we were in LA and everything, I was thinking Beverly Hills-ish? I tried not to look too disappointed when we turned down a normal street lined with plain ’50s bungalows.

  “Home sweet home,” Wispy said as she opened the door. She led us around the single level, and showed us the bedroom I’d be sharing with her if we accepted. “My roommate just moved out last week, and we haven’t found her replacement yet.”

  Her room was nice, but kind of tiny and way more fluffy, and pink, than I’d ever been.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked, throwing herself back onto her bed.

  “It’s nice.” Rent was only going to be five hundred here, and that included garbage and water. Everywhere else I’d checked out, the rent was double, even for shared rooms. I couldn’t afford much over the five without getting a job, and I wouldn’t have time for a job once we started touring. And, once we started touring, I’d barely be here anyway.

  She motioned to the bare wall opposite hers. “That would be your side, and I’m pretty easy to live with, as long as you don’t keep me up at night.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She smiled. “I hope I didn’t freak you out back at the studio.”

  “Oh, no. You didn’t.”

  “Good. Just looking out for my newest Zion sister.”

  My phone buzzed in my back pocket. “Thanks for looking out. I needed to hear it.” My phone was still buzzing. I pulled it out, Mom’s face flashing on the screen. “Sorry, need to take this.”

  “No worries.”

  I swept my thumb across the screen as I made my exit, passing Kyle and Muscles, who were laughing over some book on the coffee table.

  “Hello?” I said, stepping out the front door and onto the porch.

  “Hey, baby. I . . . um . . . You got a letter from the courts.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “It’s about Cory’s dad. You’re being subpoenaed.”

  “Subpoenaed?”

  “You have to go to his trial. They might call you up as a witness.”

  I swallowed. Cory would probably be there. “Is it necessary?”

  “Yes.”

  “When is it?”

  She sighed. “Looks like it’s scheduled for next Monday.”

  “What? Monday? We’re supposed to be working on the new song next week.”

  “I know, baby, but it’s the law. You have to be there. Do you need me to call your agent?”

  “No.” I blew a deep breath. Having my mommy call her to tell her for me probably wouldn’t help her list of Lea immaturities. “I’ll call her.”

  “I’ll send you the info, and then I’ll see about getting you up to the valley.”

  “The valley?”

  “Trials always happen in the same county where the arrest was made.”

  I closed my eyes against the mounting sting, and took a breath to try and get rid of the pressure in my chest. “Okay.”

  “I love you, Lea.”

  “Love you, too, Mom.”

  “You won’t be alone. I’ll be there. So will Nol.”

  Twenty

  CORY

  The valley courthouse looked something like the ones I’d watched on TV growing up. Not too big, but big enough that it felt like I was about to be called up on a stage. After Mom filed for a restraining order, the prosecutor decided to press several charges against Dad and they wanted my testimony to prove how violent he could be. Basically, the worst thing someone could ask of me, but I’d do it for Mom.

  Dad was sitting at the defendant’s table, and Mom was across the front from him at the plaintiff’s. A massive cowboy was in an onlooker’s seat in the row behind her. The boss from her new ranch.

  Interesting.

  I cleared my throat and slid into a seat behind him, checking the clock. Two-fifty-one, and the trial was set to start at three. I didn’t want to look at Dad. Didn’t want to waste another second of my life over someone that twisted. Who does something like that to their eleven-year-old son?

  The doors creaked open behind me, and Mom’s attorney glanced over his shoulder at whoever had walked in, leaning to whisper something in Mom’s ear. Her mouth dropped open, and she turned to see for herself, her eyes watering and sparkling at the same time. She popped her bottom lip out and stage-whispered a “sorry” at the person. I didn’t have a clue in the world who she’d talk to like that.

  Whoever it was shuffled into a row a few behind mine, and it wasn’t until I caught the scent of apple shampoo that I knew exactly who it was. All I could see was the image of Dad shoving her to the ground.

  My fist tightened on my knee, and I narrowed my gaze at him. He got a bewildered look on his face and scratched his head, whispering something to his attorney. Every bone in my body wanted to pay him back for all the pain he’d caused me. To climb over these chairs between us and give him a little taste of his own medicine. But that wasn’t the goal of this hearing, and it would land me in the same exact place as him.

  As much as I couldn’t stand what he did, the thought of winding up just like him made bile rise in my throat.

  The doors creaked open again, someone’s footsteps swishing over the carpet in a hurry. I turned to see Nolan sliding into the chair beside his mom. I caught a glimpse of Lea’s hazel eyes, locked on mine and drawing me in. I didn’t miss the pain in her stare, the way her lips turned down and her body stiffened. She shifted her gaze to Nolan, and I turned back around, feeling like someone had tackled me from behind, maybe got a sucker punch or two in.

  “All rise,” the bailiff said.

  The judge banged his gavel and let us know the trial was starting, and adjusted his glasses. The hushed buzz in the room settled.

  “Your honor, today’s case is Ms. Wanda Griffin versus Mr. Silas Griffin,” the bailiff said.

  The judge asked the attorneys if they were ready; they stood in turn, said their yeses, and sat back down.

  Mom’s attorney stood and made his way to the front, opening up with a long line of history between Mom and Dad I’d never expected she’d make public knowledge. Not with the way she used to get so ashamed about it. Her shoulders shook when he covered the barn fire, and she looked over her shoulder at me, eyes bloodshot, mouth quivering like she was the one who should be sorry.

  I shook my head and squared my shoulders, hoping she’d see how strong I was because of it all.

  She turned back around, and Cowboy reached out to touch her shoulder. Her hand covered his.

  Dad’s eyes bulged when he saw it, and he slammed his fist on his table. The whole room started.

  Dad leaned forward to glare at Cowboy. “Get your hand off my wife.”

  The bailiff moved toward dad.

  “Last I heard, she’s your ex-wife,” Cowboy said. “Better check your mail, sonny.”

  I couldn’t help but snicker.

 
; “Order in the court,” the judge said, pounding his gavel.

  Dad’s attorney shook his head, looking as exasperated by it all as I felt, and he’d just met the man.

  Mom’s attorney finished with the account of what happened to Lea at camp, proof that his violent behavior was still a current issue. A few sighs sounded behind me.

  I ground my teeth together, ducking my head. She never would’ve been touched if it wasn’t for me.

  “This man is a danger to both Ms. Griffin, their son, Cory Griffin, and those close to them, as well as a threat to the rest of society as his violence seems to know no bounds. It’s my opinion that his cruelty should be brought to justice on both the behalf of his former spouse and their son, as well as those affected by his reckless behavior. Thank you.”

  The judge told the attorney to call his first witness.

  “I’d like to first call Barbara Tallen to the stand.”

  I closed my eyes, my heart dropping straight to my gut as my elderly childhood neighbor passed my row, and she swore to tell the truth. She took her seat, and Mom’s attorney faced her.

  “Thank you for coming today, Mrs. Tallen.”

  She nodded and folded her hands on her table.

  “Would you please give us an account of the night your barn burned down?”

  Sweat pricked across my brow, and I dropped my sights to the floor, everything riling inside me. I’d never told a soul other than the Navy recruiter. Obviously, this attorney was good at his job for digging it up.

  Mrs. Tallen told the room about the smell of smoke, and the bleating of the animals, and the way her husband panicked and went out to try and save the animals while she called the fire department. “Not one made it out, and the barn burned nearly all the way to the ground.” She swept a weathered finger under her glasses and sniffed. “Our whole life went up in smoke that night.”

  Something smoldered in my chest, and I cleared my throat to try and put it out. But it wouldn’t fade.

  “Do you know who was responsible for setting that fire?” Mom’s attorney asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  I wanted to run out of the room.

  “Mr. Griffin set that fire, sir. My husband saw his truck flying across our property after it was already in flames.”

  “That’s a lie!” Dad slammed his hand on the table again, his attorney trying to get him to shut up, but that was like trying to dam Niagara Falls with a tarp. “Cory started that fire, and he won’t deny it, will you, son?”

  “If you cannot keep yourself under control, the bailiff will see to your removal from this court!” the judge said as the bailiff moved toward Dad again.

  I set my hands on the sides of my head, heat spreading from my neck to my cheeks, and then my ears.

  “I’d like to request a recess,” Dad’s attorney said.

  “Yes, I think a recess would be wise.” The judge sighed. “Let’s convene in ten minutes.”

  The room came to life, full of whispers and footsteps.

  A gentle hand rested on my arm, and I looked up to see Mom standing there. “I’m going to go over the plan with my attorney. Are you okay?”

  I nodded.

  She sighed and followed her attorney out.

  I sat in all the comfort of resting on a thousand needles and folded my arms across my chest, still staring at the floor, because the truth wasn’t just out to my recruiter. It was out to every person in this room—worst of all, Mrs. Tallen. I’d never forget the quiver in her voice or the tears spilling down her cheeks as she recounted it all.

  “Cory?” A soft and creaking voice broke my thoughts up.

  I swallowed and dared a look at the owner of it. Mrs. Tallen smiled down on me, coming to sit in the chair beside me. She set her palm on my cheek and shook her head. “That man is an utter and complete mess. Has been since the day I met him. I want you to know that Bob and I, we saw the heartache he caused you and your mama. We’d always tried stepping in, but your mama stood by that man tougher than a mama bear stands by her cubs. She loved him something fierce, and I honestly believe she was doing her best to try and keep your family together.”

  I nodded.

  “The night before the fire, we saw the bruises on her cheek, and we reported him to the sheriff. He went out to talk to her, but she didn’t want him to press charges.” Mrs. Tallen pressed her lips together, a distant look clouding her stare. “Wished she would’ve, but at least she’s done it now.” She drew a deep breath, patting my cheek and offering a grin. “I want you to know that even if you were the one who set that fire, we’d never hold it against you. Took us a while, but our son was good to us out in Wyoming. We were able to recover, and Bob died a happy man.” Her eyes were misting again. “Whatever you do, don’t let that man keep his power over you. You owe it to yourself to take the higher road, you hear me?”

  I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She chuckled and pinched my cheek. “Turned into a strapping young feller, didn’t ya?”

  I ducked my head.

  “Bashful as ever still. You take care, Cory boy.”

  “I will.”

  She stood to leave, and as I watched her go, I saw Lea out of the corner of my eye, still sitting in her seat, probably close enough to hear every word Mrs. Tallen just said.

  I shouldn’t even look at her after all I’d put her through, but there was a part of me that felt different when she was this close. A part that felt whole.

  The judge’s door squealed, and he took his seat again. “The trial will now resume.”

  LEA

  Sitting in the row behind Cory was basically like some type of low-level torture. Maybe beyond. When I first saw him, my heart did a weird lurch. Almost like that time Nolan tried to teach me how to drive his stick-shift Jeep, and I kept stalling it out. Yeah. That’s exactly what seeing him again felt like, even if it was against his own will. Then he looked at me, and I felt like I’d swallowed a golf ball.

  It was his turn at the stand, and it was so unfair. Everything about Cory being forced to talk in front of a room full of people was wrong. So wrong. And as much as I’d wanted to see him again, I never wanted to see him like this. Head ducked. Cheeks all blotchy. Every inch of his body wound tighter than a new set of guitar strings.

  His mom bawled the whole time he talked, giving his “yeses” to the accounts of the abuse he witnessed when he was little. Giving his “yeses” to the times his dad turned his anger on him. It wasn’t my place to get defensive for him, but every tendon in my body was coiling at his dad sitting there in his chair, smirking and shaking his head like none of it was true.

  I wanted to pounce on him.

  After Cory recounted what happened at camp, only looking at me once, by the way, and answered the lame questions his dad’s attorney asked him, he came down off the stand.

  “I’d like to call Miss Lea Miller to the stand.”

  Oh crud.

  Mom squeezed my shoulder, and Nolan nodded as I stood and passed them.

  My palms were sweating. There was a reason they’d called me here. I needed to prove that Cory’s dad was still a threat, that no matter how much he said he’d changed, he hadn’t. As much as I wanted to hit the floor and army crawl my way out of this place, I couldn’t. Someone needed to stand up to that jerk, and I wasn’t about to let him think I was afraid of him.

  I sat in the stiff chair and held my head high, because there was no way that guy was getting a rise out of thinking he scared me. I’d go toe-to-toe with him for all the junk he’d put Cory through, and I’d let that fact be my fuel for this whole shebang.

  Cory’s Mom’s attorney approached the stand. “Miss Miller. Please tell us about the night Mr. Griffin accosted you.”

  Everything about that night came blaring back through my brain. From Cory’s goofy grin when I told him to break the rules with me, to the alarm in his voice when he told me to stay away from him. My gaze flicked to his. He sat stick-straight, leaning forward on his elbows as
he watched me. He nodded.

  “I was hanging out with Cory up at camp, at Bridgeport Lake. We went out for a boat ride. Then June—she works in the office—she buzzed in on his radio, saying a man showed up at camp, and he was yelling something about Cory in the parking lot. So we rowed back to shore and . . .”

  I glanced at Cory again, but his head was down.

  “Cory ran to figure out what was going on. And I didn’t know what to do.”

  The attorney nodded. “And what happened next?”

  I closed my eyes, rubbing my hands on my pants. “After Cory ran off, I decided I had to follow him, that someone needed to try and protect him.”

  “From what?”

  “His dad.” Shoot. My eyes were stinging.

  “Why?”

  I frowned. “Because of everything everyone’s been saying up here.”

  He nodded. “Did Cory tell you all of these accounts previously?”

  “Not all of them, but enough to know this guy’s a jerk, and he wanted to hurt Cory.”

  “Would you say Cory was afraid for his life?”

  I took a deep breath, shrugging. “He looked worried, but if you know Cory, you know he doesn’t talk much.”

  “Please give a straight ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to the question.”

  I swallowed, looking at Cory, but he was sitting back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, staring hard at his dad. “Yes. I think he was afraid for his life.”

  “Bull!” Cory’s dad shouted.

  I frowned and faced him, jutting my chin.

  “Mr. Miller,” the judge interjected. “One more outburst and you’ll be watching the rest of the trial from a jail cell.” He banged his gavel again, and Cory’s dad huffed a breath. “Resume.”

  The attorney nodded. “What happened next, Miss Miller?”

  I swallowed, drawing another deep breath. “I ran up to see what was happening, and his dad was all up in his face, spitting and yelling, and he grabbed Cory’s shirt.”

  “Did he threaten his life?”

  “Objection, your honor!” Cory’d dad’s attorney shouted. “There is no charge of murder.”