by A. K. Rose
As the bailiffs attempted to wrap him up, he got in a few lucky punches, and managed to knock the bald head bailiff to the ground to continue his unplanned monologue, “You bastards killed my son! You killed Sammy and you’re going to pay! And you . . . little miss Jessica . . . how dare you stand me up! How dare you not help me! I hope you and your girlfriend know what you’re getting into,” he screamed, saliva now running down his chin, his appearance taking on more of a rabid dog look than the business man persona he had been going for throughout the duration of the case.
“Order, order,” the judge continued, her gavel rapidly tapping that wooden block, its surface already worn from years of abuse. “What is your name, sir?” she asked, her pointed question directed at one person, and one person alone.
“Jackson Healy,” he admitted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before they were both drawn behind his back, before he felt the handcuffs constrict around his wrists.
“Mr. Healy,” she started, “Your outburst in this courtroom is both uncalled for and unacceptable. You were already in contempt before you punched Mr. Kimble, and now, you can add assault to the contempt. You will be taken to the county jail for processing. Do you understand?”
Silence.
For a man who had a lot to say, Jackson had nothing to say. All of a sudden, he realized what he’d done; who he’d become. A courtroom full of people was focused on him because of his actions.
“Mr. Healy, do you understand?
“I do,” he finally managed, head bent in shame, eyes cast on his polished black wing tips.
As the outburst focused the judge’s attention on the back of the room, Rick Anderson had been developing a plan. It was obvious to him immediately that the crazy man in the back of the room had to be Mr. Brightside, and his final attack on Jessica had proven him right.
“Your honor, may I approach the bench?” Rick asked, confidence oozing out of every pore. He had promised Jessica he’d keep her safe, and his plan would no doubt do that.
“Now’s not the time, counselor.”
“I believe I have some evidence to submit that makes it the time, with all due respect your honor.”
“Counselor,” the judge countered firmly, “Now is not the time. Your case is over. We do not need any more evidence.”
“Yes ma’am. However, I believe Mr. Healy was attempting to blackmail one of my staff over the past week and I wanted to share that information with you.”
The judge was irritated, but knew she had to see this request through. Jackson Healy had just caused a scene in her courtroom—and scenes in her courtroom were not allowed. If he’d been up to other dirty work, she needed to know.
“Okay, counselor, please approach the bench.”
As he presented the note Jessica had given him, Rick quietly explained what he knew about the scenario: his lead researcher had been targeted by someone—he assumed it was Jackson Healy based on the outburst—and had been threatened if she didn’t help the other side in this case; he’d put her in hiding for a couple of days at his house because he didn’t want to risk disrupting the outcome of the case; he’d planned to go to the police immediately after the verdict. “Your honor, I believe this man is Mr. Brightside, based on his reaction to the verdict, and I felt it was important for you to see this evidence.”
“Thank, you Mr. Anderson. I will make sure this information gets put into Mr. Healy’s case file, and his connection to this attempted blackmail will be determined in court, as it should be. Now, please take your seat.” Judge Hightower was a no-nonsense judge, and Rick felt her acceptance of the evidence was his second victory today. Even if it wasn’t, he’d already made a few photocopies of the note, and he still planned to take them to the Austin Police Department later that day. As he returned to his chair, Rick gave a knowing wink and a small smile to Jessica, who had been holding her head in her hands ever since Jackson had first yelled “No.” If this was what going to court was like, she never wanted to go to court again.
# # #
“So he just stood up and started yelling?” Lana asked, as she held Jess in her arms in a big hug.
“He did,” Jessica confirmed, resting her head on her girlfriend’s chest in relief, red curls contrasting boldly against the white button up Lana was wearing. The week from hell was finally over. She was finally back at her own house with the one person she wanted to see more than anyone, safe. Jackson Healy was behind bars—at least for now—the threat of Mr. Brightside interrupting her life now dissipating.
“God, what a nightmare this week was. I was so worried about you I barely did any of my own work. I don’t think I’ve eaten in days.”
“Me either. This certainly wasn’t how I expected the week to turn out after such a lovely start—after the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had. Sunday seems like so long ago now.”
“It really does. I learned something this week,” Lana said as she stepped back and took Jessica’s hands in her own. “I don’t want to spend a week without you. I don’t want us to be apart like this. I want to see your face every morning when I wake up, and hold you close to me every night when I go to sleep.”
“I learned that too . . .”
“I wondered . . . do you want to live together?”
“You want to U-haul with me?” Jess asked, a sly smile spreading across her face. Her sense of humor was coming back with every passing moment.
“I do, if you do?”
“I do. I’d love it if you moved in here, if you helped me make this house a . . .” Jess said, her sentence unfinished as soft lips met her own in a delicate kiss, “. . . home.”
“I would love that too. I’m so relieved you’re okay. You really scared me, you know that?”
“I’m glad I’m okay too, trust me. I had one hell of a week, but I’m still here. Mr. Brightside—um, Jackson—lost, and in the end, I won. I was forced out of a closet I didn’t know I inhabited and I was forced to find strength I didn’t know I had. I learned a lot about myself this week.”
“Do you think you’ll go back to court? Do you even want to?”
“The only courtroom I want to be in anytime soon is the one Jackson Healy will be in. I want to testify against him, but otherwise, no. I’m going back to the books and staying put for a while. Rick was so understanding with me—he gets it—and told me I don’t have to go to court again if I don’t want to.”
“So you’re staying at the firm, then?” Lana asked, pulling them to Jessica’s well-worn couch to sit.
“Not forever. For now. But I don’t want to talk about that anymore. No more work. I want to . . .”
“. . . what?”
“Will you sing for me?” Jess asked, knowing just the song she wanted to hear.
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, what song?”
“You know what song,” she said, desire filling her emerald green eyes just as it always did when Lana Parker was concerned. The bass player had a grip on Jessica she still couldn’t explain. It was probably a blessing in disguise that Brightside had sped up her coming out process, because the rocker with the heart of gold had stolen her own heart; she couldn’t hide her feelings if she wanted to.
Lana did know the song—it was their song now. She didn’t have a guitar—didn’t have any background music either—but she didn’t need accompaniment. She simply slid off the couch and onto one knee, took Jessica’s hand, and began to softly sing.
I could stay awake just to hear you breathing
Watch you smile while you are sleeping
While you're far away dreaming
TWENTY-TWO
“I can’t believe it’s already time for South by Southwest,” Cassie said to no one in particular as she and her tribe stood waiting for The Crickets to take the small corner stage, afternoon sun beating down on them with unapologetic abandon. It wasn’t much in comparison to the main stage, but the fact that Lana’s band was performing during the festival at all was a
small miracle, and she knew Jessica was very excited about the booking. After all, her girlfriend’s band was playing SXSW. Some bands try for years and never get a stage at the event.
Later that day, everyone they knew was invited over for their moving party. They’d hang out and hear music all afternoon, and then keep the party going at home later—making sure to say goodbye to Rachel’s house in style.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Jennifer offered sincerely, leaning past Rachel to place a hand on Cassie’s forearm. She’d come to town specifically for the event—her company had a booth in the tech fair portion—but was happy to be able to hang out with her future ex-husband’s cousin for a few hours. Cassie had been invaluable to her as she’d navigated the confusing process of coming out to Stuart, breaking up her marriage, and negotiating custody and asset division. They were at the beginning of the process that was bound to take the better part of that year, but Jennifer was so appreciative to have an ally along the way. The last time she’d seen her, Cassie had been hit in a crosswalk by a pickup, and she couldn’t help but feel bad about that accident. “It’s so good to see you walking and standing, Cass.”
“I’m glad you were able to make it,” Cassie smiled, tugging on the bill of her baseball cap to better protect her eyes, ponytailed blonde hair peeking out the back. Sunglasses alone weren’t cutting it on this day. Though it was March, the sun was intense and it was already abnormally hot, the blacktop beneath her feet not helping the situation much, cold beer not enough to bring her core temperature down to a reasonable level.
“So, remind me, what is the significance of this band we’re waiting on?” Jennifer asked, the midday sun impacting her too, its intensity starting to melt her make-up and flatten her hair slightly, her feet feeling sticky in the cowboy boots she’d worn for the occasion.
“It’s my girlfriend’s band,” Jessica chimed in from Cassie’s opposite side, “Lana is the bass player, and leads the band . . .”
“. . . and is quite a hottie,” Cassie finished on Jess’s behalf. That part was undeniable, Lana Parker had the looks and the swagger, and apparently, had stolen her best friend’s heart. She’d come into Jessica’s world out of the blue and managed to show her the kind of love she deserved, the kind of love she’d never had from all the male musicians she’d dated over the years. In a few months, she’d also taught Jess how to love in return. Because of that, Cassie would always have a soft spot for the bass player. Jess wasn’t in her dreams anymore, but she still loved her friend, still wanted her happy.
“Hey!” Rachel said, an elbow swiftly landing in her fiancée’s side.
“Baby, no one holds a candle to you; you’re still my hot dentist,” Cassie quickly recovered, her arm finding its way around her companion’s waist.
“I’m just kidding! Lana is definitely a hottie! We’re happy for you, Jess. And we’re happy that whole blackmail scandal is in the past.” They’d had their ups and downs, but Rachel sincerely liked Jessica. Whatever had happened with her and Cassie in the past was in the past, it was clear.
As The Crickets finally took the stage, the modest crowd seemed to triple in size, and Rachel noticed someone very familiar standing a few feet away scanning the crowd. Could it be? Certainly it wasn’t. She didn’t like live music; she’d always said it was too loud and the crowds were too rambunctious. But, it looked an awful lot like her.
“Elise! Hey, Elise!” Jennifer called. “Over here!”
It was her. As Rachel’s ex found her way to their little patch of asphalt, she couldn’t believe it. What were the odds—in a sea of people, amongst the sheer madness of SXSW—that her ex-girlfriend would turn up in her face and know Jennifer? Jennifer, who had inadvertently wreaked havoc on Rachel’s life just months before by dragging Cassie to the coffee shop that fateful day of the accident. Jennifer, who’d blatantly hit on her in Cassie’s mother’s house over Thanksgiving.
Jennifer, Rachel thought, realizing the common denominator to many of life’s frustrations.
“Hey, sweetie,” Elise greeted, placing a kiss on Jennifer’s cheek as she did.
“Guys, this is Elise,” Jennifer introduced, holding her hand out in the direction of her friend, palm making its way to the small of the woman’s back in an instant.
Though there was noise all around them, though she could hear Lana speaking from the stage in the distance, Rachel couldn’t really register what was happening. It seemed like—though it couldn’t be, could it?—it seemed like Jennifer was dating her ex-girlfriend. It made no sense. Jennifer lived in Houston. How would they have even met? And more importantly, how did this woman keep dropping bombs on her life?
“Hey, Rach,” Elise said, discomfort evident as she took a step forward to offer a cordial half-hug, releasing Jennifer’s hand from her body in the process. She noticed the blonde standing next to her ex-girlfriend as she did. “Good to see you again.”
“Wait, you two know each other?” Jennifer asked.
“We used to, yes . . . we were together for several years,” Elise admitted as she shoved fisted hands in the front pockets of her tight jeans, shoulders practically in her ears as she did, and then brushed off the question as she retreated to Jennifer’s side. “But that was a long time ago.”
“It was,” Rachel agreed, hoping someone would change the subject, and fast, but instead, the clicking of drumsticks with Jon’s signature 4-beat came through the sound system, and all eyes—except Cassie’s—were diverted to the stage as the band began to play. Music was, after all, what they’d come for. Cassie didn’t turn just yet. Instead, she gave Rachel a knowing glance with a head tilt indicating exactly what she thought needed to happen. “Hey, we’re having a moving party tonight, after the show, you’re both coming, right?”
“Are we invited?” Jennifer asked cautiously, now fully aware that her new girlfriend had a past with the dentist.
“Of course you’re invited,” Cassie said, smiling, that little gap between her two front teeth as prominent as ever. Rachel had never even mentioned fixing it because she liked Cassie just how she was, and this moment was proof they were meant to be together. The way Cassie had welcomed her ex-girlfriend into their lives without question was exactly what made her her.
Music filled the air and bodies swayed in time with the beat—as bodies are known to do when provided the opportunity—Lana now front and center on the stage as she played her signature bass guitar solo.
“She is so amazing,” Cassie said directly into Jessica’s ear, “I’m glad you two found each other.”
“Yeah, me too,” Jess agreed, before adding with a strained voice to be heard over the music, “We’re moving in together. Tomorrow, she’s moving into my house.”
“Hey, congratulations!” Cassie said, giving her friend a hug in encouragement. It was a time of obvious change, and she knew she’d remember it for a long time to come. A freeze-frame image was already forming in her mind of standing in the sun listening to The Crickets surrounded by women that had all shaped her life in one way or another. Five women with vastly different pasts, live music providing the soundtrack to the present, futures unknown.
It’s been said anyone can be connected within six steps of another person, and as she assessed her friends in the moment, Cassie Hollander knew that theory to be true. Indirectly, they’d all kissed each other by way of the others in the group, their pasts overlapping like the latticed crust of a homemade pie. The crust holds everything together though, and Cassie knew that without their pasts, none would have the present they did—and from where she stood, the present was pretty damn good.
THANK YOU
Thank you for reading! Indie authors are lucky to have the outlet we do, and I’m eternally grateful for your support. If you liked this novel (or even if you didn’t), I’d appreciate a quick review on Amazon so I know what you want to read from me in the future.
I love hearing from readers! You can find me at: https://akrosewrites.wordpress.com or akrosewrites@outl
ook.com.
-A.K
GRATITUDE
Writing is a fickle partner. Sometimes the words come with reckless abandon, their enthusiasm impossible to contain. Sometimes, they hide, unwilling to appear until the time is right. As I was writing this book, words and I had many disagreements. It’s due to the support of an amazing group of friends and beta readers (and friends that are beta readers!) that I was able to finish the book with my sanity intact, and I owe them all a huge shout out, a big hug, and lots of gratitude.
A million thanks to these fantastic friends who are always there for me:
Heidi, who should really consider being a professional editor. She keeps me honest about the minutia that I just make up, tells me about annoying phrase overuse, and fixes all of my comma blunders. After 25 years of friendship, nothing’s off-limits, and for that, I’m eternally grateful. If it weren’t for Heidi, this story wouldn’t flow nearly as well.
Paula, the sister I never had, and development director who rides my ass to keep the story going, provides ideas I would have never thought of, and supplies endless amusement with her wicked sense of humor. Your by-line is coming friend.
Bonnie, honorary other mother, biggest fan, and best life coach a girl could want.
Heather, an angel on earth with a big heart and a bigger smile, always there when I need her with the most thoughtful insights on both book writing and life.
Lisa, who continues to read a book that is so not in her genre simply because she’s an amazing friend and wants to be supportive. I’m glad you’re in my corner.
Ron, the lone male who provides thoughtful commentary on story arc and plot with a side of British humor, the best way to receive said commentary.
And a special thanks to my brother, Charles, the resident attorney who answered my random legal questions with patience and humility.