by A. S. Teague
But despite all that, I know I need to look good. I need to pull myself together, dry my eyes, and act like an adult.
The drive to the courthouse didn’t taken too long, and I made my way through the metal detectors before climbing the stairs to the courtroom, where Riley is waiting for me outside. Sitting on a bench, his hands are clasped together and his head hung low. He’s deep in thought, and when I softly tap his shoulder, he jumps.
“Jesus, Grace,” he yelps, his eyes wide.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
He stands and pulls me in for a hug, letting his arms wrap around my shoulders a little too long.
His eyes rake my body before settling on my face. “You look good. Tired, but good,” he tells me honestly, and I chuckle.
“Yeah, I didn’t sleep at all last night. My brain wouldn’t turn off.”
“You should have called me.”
It had never once crossed my mind to call Riley. I’d only thought of Bronn. He was the only person that could have been any source of comfort last night.
I shake my head. “No, I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
He rolls his neck, his eyes laced with worry. “Listen, Grace, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s about—“
The courtroom door opens, the bailiff coming out to announce that the next session is about to begin.
I smile at Riley, turning to follow the other people milling about into the large room. My hands are shaking, my palms sweaty, and I have to take a deep breath as I cross through the doors.
Riley comes in behind me and points me to a row of pews that remind me of the church I used to attend with my parents when I was a child. Sliding inside, I sit and clutch my purse tightly in my lap.
There’s a set of doors to my left, and when they swing open the earth stops spinning and time stands still.
An officer strolls through with a man in a khaki jumpsuit behind him, shackles on his wrists and ankles.
Daddy.
My stomach sinks, my body flushing, and I can’t help the gasp that escapes my lips.
The strangled noise causes my father to turn his head in my direction, and there is no mistaking that this man is none other than my daddy.
He’s older, there are lines around his eyes that weren’t there when I was a child. His once thick, dark hair, the same color as mine, is now gray. He’s stooped forward, and I don’t know if that’s due to the restraints at his wrists or the years that he’s spent living under the weight of despair, but he’s no longer the tall, proud man that I remember.
But his eyes are the same shade of blue that they’ve always been, and when they meet mine, they widen. He stumbles before stopping in his tracks, his jaw falling open.
I’d rehearsed this moment in my head for days now, what I would do if he saw me, what his reaction would be, but all of that practice went out the window when the moment finally came. With a trembling hand, I lamely wave while he stands stock still, staring at me as though he’s seeing a ghost.
The irony of that doesn’t go over my head, and tears fill my eyes as I see him mouth my name.
My heart pounds so hard that I fear it will beat out of my chest as I watch the man that I thought was dead smile at me. The face that had been haggard just a moment ago transforms with that simple act, the defeat in his eyes changing to hope, to happiness. His smile takes my breath away and I swear that my heart is so full, at any moment it’s going to burst. Or worse, I’m going to wake up and realize this is all just a dream.
Even though my father is in prison, which is a nightmare, he’s alive. And smiling at me.
I want desperately to leap over the railing and wrap my arms around him, to pull the shackles from his arms so that he can hold me. I need to tell him that I read his letters, every one of them, multiple times. I wonder if he thinks that I abandoned him, if Nana ever told him that I didn’t know he was alive. I want to reassure him that I am going to get him out of here, that I will stop at nothing to prove that he’s not the monster he was accused of being all those years ago.
My mind is spinning as I stare at him, memorizing the look on his face. Staring into his eyes, I swear that I can see pride in them, and I say a silent thank you that I took the time to put myself together this morning.
The officer behind him gives him a nudge and the world begins to spin again as he shuffles over to the defendant’s table. His eyes are filled with tears as he continues to watch me.
I want to kick the officer, to yell at him and curse him for making my daddy break eye contact with me. Doesn’t he know that this is the first time we’ve seen each other in almost two decades?
Of course, he doesn’t. But that doesn’t stop the surge of anger that courses through my veins. The anger is misdirected of course, it’s not that guard’s fault that my dad is chained like a dog.
Riley’s arm wraps around my shoulder and he whispers into my ear, “Are you alright?”
Not one bit.
Shaking his arm off, I nod, my lips pressed tightly together to hold the sobs inside. He’s been so helpful these last few days, but I still haven’t forgiven him for keeping this from me. I am not ready to go back to the way things were between us. Honestly, I don’t think I ever will be.
“I have to tell you something, it’s important.” Riley’s voice is urgent and his face is lined with concern.
“Can’t it wait? I don’t think I can focus on anything right now,” I plead, my voice cracking.
I don’t care what he has to tell me, it can’t compare to the way I’m feeling. I don’t want to do anything more than stare at my father. I need to take his every feature in and commit it to memory, just in case this is my only chance to see him.
I’m desperate to talk to him. I want to touch him, to hug him, but there’s the chance that he won’t want to see me. And if he chooses not to let me visit him, I won’t have any say in the matter. I refuse to waste a single second with whatever it is that Riley feels I need to know.
The courtroom doors open again and I glance over my shoulder to see who’s coming in.
Shock washes over me as I see Dani and Bronn walk in, their eyes scanning the room.
My focus still on the doors that my boyfriend and his sister just walked through, I ask Riley, “Did you call Bronn?”
Instead of waiting for his response, I crawl over him and out of the pew. My heart leaps at the sight of the man that I’ve missed so deeply these last few days.
Even though I specifically asked Riley not to tell anyone what was going on, seeing Bronn’s face causes relief to swell in my chest.
I should have told him myself, and if I had known that I would feel this much better just by being in the same room with him, I would have. But it doesn’t matter that I wasn’t the one to tell him, I’m just glad he’s here to support me.
I rush over to where they stand, their heads bowed together, whispering.
“Bronn!” I shout, unable to get to him fast enough.
My jumbled mind clears, and all I can think about is being in Bronn’s strong embrace.
He turns away from the man he’s speaking to just as I throw myself at him. Wrapping myself around him, I let out a deep sigh.
This is who I need to comfort me, not Riley.
“Grace?” Dani and Bronn say in unison, their voices thick with confusion.
I cling to Bronn and bury my face in his neck, inhaling deeply.
“God, I’ve missed you,” I mumble into his neck.
He squeezes me tightly, murmuring into my hair. “I’ve missed you, too. But you can’t be here.”
I pull back, my mind whirling. “What do you mean?”
His brows are bunched, the line between them deep. He pushes his hand through his hair, a deep sigh escaping his lips. Lips that I’ve longed to kiss for days. “I don’t want you involved in this.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Aren’t you here because Riley called you?”
&nb
sp; I glance over my shoulder to see Riley making his way toward us, the look of absolute horror twisting his face.
What the fuck is going on?
My gaze returns to Bronn, but his stormy eyes are on Riley, his mouth set in a thin line. I look to Dani, hoping she can give me some insight into what’s going on, but her face is just as confused as mine.
“Bronn, what is going on?” I whisper.
He tears his glare away from Riley and looks at me, his fists opening and closing at his sides. I take a step forward and grasp his hand, pulling him away from the crowd.
Once we’re out of earshot of everyone else, I squeeze his fingers, bringing his attention back to me.
His eyes are blazing as he repeats himself. “You can’t be here. You need to go.”
I blink. I don’t know why the hell I would go anywhere. “I’m not leaving. Why would I leave?”
Squeezing the back of his neck, he drops his gaze to the floor. “You are the best part of my life.” My heart flutters as he lifts his gorgeous blue eyes back to mine. “But this,” he gestures around the courtroom, “this is the worst part of it. And I don’t want the two mixing.”
His words are sweet, but I’m still lost as to what he’s talking about. “I’m not going anywhere, Bronn.” I step to him, wrapping my arm around his waist. Pressing my cheek to his chest, I hear his heart hammering in his chest. “I have to be here.”
“No, you don’t,” he argues, his deep voice vibrating in his chest. With his arms still wrapped around me, he begins pulling me toward the exit.
I dig my heels in, bringing us to a stop. “Bronn, are you not here for me?”
I assumed that Riley had called him, had asked him to be here for support. But that theory doesn’t explain why Bronn is so intent on me leaving.
“What do you mean this is the worst part of you?”
Bronn pulls away, his face appearing almost haggard. “I don’t want to go into details. I just want to keep you away from this. Please, Grace, go.”
I still have no idea what he’s doing here, or what he’s talking about, but it’s obvious that he isn’t here for me. This wasn’t the way I wanted to tell him about my dad. I wanted to wait until we were home, hopefully curled up in bed, before telling him everything. I had hoped that by explaining everything to him it would somehow help me make sense of it all.
“I’m not leaving,” I tell him firmly. Taking his hand in mine again, I suck in a deep breath. “This isn’t how I’d envisioned telling you, but life never seems to go as planned. At least not for me.” I force my mouth to curve into a smile. “My dad’s not dead.”
Bronn stumbles back, as if I’ve physically pushed him. His hand releases mine and my fingers feel empty.
I scramble to explain everything. “He didn’t die in that convenience store. Nana lied to me. He’s been in prison all these years.” There’s so much more to the story, so many more details that I need to fill him in on, but we don’t have time for that because the hearing is about to begin.
The crowd that was standing around has thinned, most of the people having taken their seats. Dani and Riley still stand where we left them, their eyes wide as they watch us.
I turn back to Bronn, his handsome face is twisted in a scowl, his eyes dark.
I’ve never seen him this way before, and a chill races down my spine. My tongue feels thick, and I have to swallow several times before I can get the question that’s blazing through my mind out. “Why are you here?”
His voice is so low I barely hear him, but there’s no mistaking what he says. “Mickey Chumley murdered Jimmy Williams seventeen years ago in a robbery gone wrong.”
My heart pounds, dizziness threatening to overtake me. “How…” I whisper. “How do you know that?”
He looks me straight in the eye, hatred shimmering. “Because Jimmy Williams was my father.”
The sob that tumbles from her lips echoes in the courtroom.
The anguish should have stirred something in me, should have made me go to her, but I don’t move. I stare as Grace’s knees buckle, going out from under her. I watch as she collapses to the floor, her hands covering her face that is now wet with tears, her perfect makeup running in black streams down her cheeks.
I should be jealous as Riley rushes to her side and scoops her into his arms before tucking her against his chest. I should be angry, watching her wrap her arms around his neck and clinging to him. Her arms aren’t meant for anyone else but me.
I should be irritated when Dani takes my arm and pulls me to our seats. I shake her hand from my bicep and sit stiffly behind the county solicitor. He’s the man whose job it is to ensure that Mickey Chumley stays exactly where he fucking belongs—in prison.
I should feel sadness as I listen to the attorney recount the events of the crime and the day that my life changed forever.
I should feel guilty as I listen to Grace sob across the aisle from us, seated directly behind the man that she thought was dead for all these years.
She’d been so happy to see me, relief written all over her face. I’d been relieved to see her, too. But that feeling had been short lived, just like it always was. Life had a way of giving me a taste of the good stuff before shitting all over me.
That day in the bar rushes back to me, and it dawns on me why Grace looked so familiar. It wasn’t a fluke that her face had reminded me of someone. It was because she was the little girl I’d seen in the back of the patrol car, being driven away from the devastation as I was riding toward it.
She’d been there that day, the day that Mickey Chumley had decided to play God and ruined everyone’s lives.
I would never forgive him. Dani had urged me over the years to try, in the hopes that I would be able to find peace within myself, but I just couldn’t. How could I forgive someone for royally fucking me over?
Grace and I were done.
How could we have any sort of relationship while I lived my life hating her father, the man that she so clearly adored?
No, there was no hope for us.
And that realization left me feeling empty inside.
Dani and I sat through the hearing together, her hand holding mine tightly, but I couldn’t focus on what was being said. When the judge bangs his gavel to dismiss the court, I have no idea what just transpired. I hope that Dani was paying attention, otherwise we’ll have to talk to the solicitor later.
But for now, I need to get the fuck out of here, and fast. I need to think and attempt to wrap my mind around the fact that my girlfriend is the daughter of the man that killed my father.
I rush out, not even bothering to tell Dani that I’m leaving. When I see a crowd waiting on the elevator, I change directions and head for the stairs. I slam the door open and begin my descent, my footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell.
“Bronn!” Grace’s voice is loud behind me. “Wait! Please, wait!”
I don’t slow down and continue to race out of the courthouse.
“Dammit, Bronnson!” she screams, her hand grabbing a fistful of my dress shirt, causing me to pause.
“Just give me some space,” I growl, my back still to her.
I need air. The courtroom had been suffocating. I can’t get outside fast enough, and Grace is only slowing me down.
“No!” she says fiercely, not letting go of my shirt. “Turn around and face me.”
Her courage, her fucking fierceness is admirable, but right now I need to clear my head.
I shake free of her grip and continue down the stairs.
She follows, begging. “Hear me out. Just give me a minute to explain everything. Or at least, everything I know.”
I pause, my hand gripping the railing so hard my knuckles are white. She takes my hesitation as permission to continue and begins to ramble. “My dad, he’s been alive for all these years.” Her voice breaks, but she doesn’t stop talking. “I know he didn’t do what you said. Not the father I knew. He wouldn’t.”
I know that it’s not
her fault that her dad is a monster, but, I can’t stand here, unable to get air into my lungs, and listen to her defend him.
I whirl to face her. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
I turn, racing down the stairs while praying that she’ll get the message and let me be. But she doesn’t and continues to follow, calling my name, begging for me to stop and listen.
When I reach the bottom of the stairwell, I begin to push through the exit when her shout causes me to stop.
“Where are your balls?” I turn, glaring at her as she continues. “You’re acting like a puss, running away from me!”
I have to give it to her, she’s got a point.
I should be a fucking man and stay. But I can’t.
“You’re right. I have no balls. Just like your fucking father when he robbed my dad and killed him.”
Her face crumples and guilt courses through me, warring with the anger that’s simmering in my blood. I don’t want to hurt her; I don’t want to be responsible for her sadness when I’d worked so hard to replace it with happiness.
She scrubs a hand over her face and composes herself. “Bronn, I love you!”
The world stands still as the words leave her mouth, and I fight to take air into my lungs. I knew that she loved me, but the words hadn’t been uttered until this moment.
Scoffing, I shout, “Great. Just fucking great. You love me.”
She pushes up on her toes until her eyes are level with mine. “Yes. I do. I fucking love you. And you love me, too. I know you do.” She places a hand on my heart and my stomach lurches. “You don’t have to say the words for me to know how you feel.”
She’s right. I do love her. I’ve been in love with her since the day her nana had called me trash and she’d defended me. But, fuck, I don’t know what to do about that now. And I can’t think with her in my face, her flowery perfume filling my nose, the nearness of her causing my body to ache to hold her. I need to get away, and I need to do it now before I say something I regret.