Fool Me Once (New England Bay Sharks #2)

Chapter 30

M r. and Mrs. Jones, my parents, Saylor, and I sit on the bench in the courtroom.

My fists are clenched so tightly that my fingernails are digging into my flesh. Richie hasn’t even walked in yet, and I’m fucking fighting an internal battle with myself because thoughts of me killing him keep flashing through my brain. I’m not stupid enough to do anything on impulse, but, Jesus Christ, it’s going to be hard to keep it together.

Even though we’ve had to be apart from Gemma while she waits to be called to testify, Saylor and I wanted to be here the entire time to not only watch it play out, but to be here for our girl when she came out. I know today is going to take a lot out of her, and I just can’t wait for it to end so she can put it in the past.

The door opens, and within seconds, Richie is walking past us with his lawyer at his side. His shoulders are tense, and even though he’s likely facing jail time, he carries himself with arrogance, his face remaining stoic.

When he takes a seat, he turns his neck just enough to look at me, and then he dares to glance at Gemma’s parents. Gemma’s dad mutters something under his breath, and her mom squeezes his hand.

The footage from that day replays over and over in my mind, and I know this is going to be a long-ass day of me biting my tongue and keeping myself contained.

He hurt my girl. He hurt my Firefly. He deserves more than a few measly fucking years in jail—if we’re lucky. Yet I’m sure that’s all he’s going to get.

I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack, and I clutch my chest.

My sister pats my arm. “Just breathe, Smith. I know. I get it. Trust me. But anything we do would have repercussions. We need to help bring this chapter of Gem’s life to an end. She deserves it.”

I know that she’s right, but, fucking A, I feel like a failure of a boyfriend, sitting here and doing nothing at all, just like I’ve had to do since I first found out what a piece of shit this fucker was. I would give anything—anything at all—to have ten minutes alone with him, and by the end of it, he’d be begging to go to jail. Or maybe he wouldn’t because if I ever was alone with him and I knew my actions wouldn’t pull me away from Gemma, he’d probably never speak again.

Because you can’t talk when you’re fucking dead.

The trial starts. My fists never unclench, and my jaw never loosens.

For a month now, I’ve had a ring for Gemma hidden in my dresser, but I want all the bad shit to be behind her so that she can truly enjoy the engagement. That, and I just want to make sure that when I propose, she’s ready. She’s had to fight her way to get her mental health back, but she’s done it. And I’m so fucking proud, but it also makes me want to take that next step. Once we get the fuck out of California and back home, I’m not wasting any more time. I want her forever. I want her to have my last name.

After what feels like the longest hour of my life, I can sense that the trial is almost over, and the only thing getting me through this testimony and feeling the stare of Richie’s cold, dead eyes on me is looking at Smith and Saylor. They both somehow send silent messages that tell me it’s all okay and that it’s almost over.

While waiting to testify, I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t hug Saylor or kiss Smith, and that was hell. But the second I was called on, I walked in and saw them both, and when they each gave me a small, reassuring smile, I knew I could do this.

Just last week, the Sharks had won the Stanley Cup, and while I loved celebrating with Smith, I think we both had this trial looming over our heads, knowing that, in just a few days, we’d have to travel to California and I’d have to face Richie .

“Thank you, Ms. Jones,” the lawyer says impassively. “You are dismissed.”

Even as I stand up and let my feet carry me as quickly as possible, I can feel Richie’s presence. I’m scared, even though I know he can’t hurt me.

It’s the kind of fear that creeps up your spine, rendering you useless. It makes your brain go numb and your fingers grow cold. I feel all of those things, but when my man stands and ushers me out of the room … it slowly dissipates.

My angel. My savior. My safe haven.

If someone had told me when we were kids that Smith was going to grow up to be this patient man, covered in tattoos, who had the ability to calm even the strongest of my storms, I don’t think I would have believed them. We were young and immature. And as much as I wish that we could have continued to grow up together instead of him leaving and maturing on his own, I’m not sure we would have been as resilient as we are right now. Both as individuals and as a couple.

This foundation we’ve built wasn’t made overnight. It was formed from the deepest parts of our souls. Where things like grief, anger, patience, communication, and selflessness roam all together, learning to coexist. We’re here right now, stronger than we’ve ever been, after learning to keep the things that matter most closest to us and letting go of things that we can’t change when it’s time.

Being a victim of abuse has shaped me into the warrior that I am today, and when I look in the mirror, I’m proud of the woman staring back at me. She’s worked so hard to get to the place she’s at.

Once we’re outside the courtroom, Smith wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer. His lips press to the top of my head as he sways us back and forth. “I’m so proud of you, baby,” he murmurs thickly. “You did so well.”

Even though today has sucked, I can feel a weight that’s being lifted from my body. Almost like I’ve had bricks sitting on my shoulders, waiting anxiously for this all to be over, and one by one, someone is pulling the bricks off of me and tossing them to the side.

Smith kisses me before releasing me because his sister is all but shoving him out of the way.

“I want to hug her too!” she whines before throwing her arms around me and running her hand over the top of my head as our foreheads press together. “You amaze me, you know?” She sniffles.

“I love you.” I smile, squeezing her tightly.

My mind flashes back to that very first day in a new school when I was a kid. Since then, Saylor has been my constant. She’s never strayed, and somehow, I know she never will.

And Smith has proven time and time again that he’d move mountains just to make me smile, even though I wish he didn’t have to.

I don’t deserve these two Sawyer siblings, but they’ve gotten me through this life and all its challenges.

When Saylor finally lets go, I walk over to my mom and dad.

My father hugs me first. “I’m so proud of you, Gem.” His voice is strained, and though he tries to stay strong, when he releases me, I see his eyes are glossed over.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “For being here.”

Before he can respond, my mom throws her arms around me. “I’m sorry we didn’t know,” she whimpers against my ear. “I’m your mom. I should have known.”

“Shh … it’s okay.” I rub my hand over her back. “It’s all over now.”

When she steps back, Smith takes my hand to lead me outside, and I can’t believe my eyes when I see so many of the Bay Sharks standing in front of the courthouse.

The courthouse is all the way on the other side of the freaking country from Maine, and yet here they are … waiting for me because I’m now a part of their world.

“Look at that,” my mom practically sobs behind us. “They all came here for you, baby.”

Maci and Paige rush toward me, wrapping me in a group hug before Poppy appears. My heart is so full, and I’m so overwhelmed in the best way possible.

When they release me and I sweep my eyes over all of Smith’s teammates who came here just to support us, my eyes land on Kolt’s, and I smile before throwing my arms around him.

He might look scary to everyone else, but to me, he’s a teddy bear with a huge heart.

“Thank you,” I say, tears pooling in my eyes. “For giving me a place to stay when I needed to heal, for making me feel safe, and for marrying one of the very best humans on the planet.” I look back at Paige before turning to face Kolt again. “You and Paige deserve the world, Kolt. And one day, you’ll have it.”

Kolt’s eyes grow misty, but he tries to hide it and pulls his sunglasses on before giving me another hug. When he releases me and I feel a hand on my back, I know it’s Smith.

Sliding my hands to his sides, I angle my face up to look at him. “All these people flew to California for us, just so that we didn’t have to feel alone today.” I choke out the last few words through my emotions as my vision grows blurry. “How lucky are we?”

He dips his head forward, kissing me lightly. “Pretty damn lucky, I’d say.” His lips smack against mine once more, and he smiles. “You’re family now, Firefly. They love you.”

He steps back and throws an arm around my shoulders, tucking me against him, and I still can’t get over everyone who showed up to show their support for me in this trial.

Not every survivor is fortunate enough to walk out of a courthouse after standing up to their abuser and have friends and family rallying against them. Which is another reason why the more I think about joining forces with Cameran Kade, the more I know it’s something I need to do. Because for the woman who has no friends or family and has to face everything alone … I want to hold her hand through it.

Once the gang has broken up a bit, piling into their rental cars after making a plan on where to meet, I follow Smith to ours. When he pulls the door open, I slide inside.

Once we’re both in the car, I pull my phone out and scroll till I find a contact I saved a while back. I hit the Call button, and it rings a few times before a sweet, kind voice answers.

“Hello?”

I inhale, smiling even though she can’t see me. “Hi, Cameran. It’s Gemma Jones calling.”

I glance nervously at Smith, and he gives me a reassuring nod.

“If you’re still open to it … I’d love to get together sometime soon and chat. I think the two of us … we could do some pretty great things.”

“I wondered how long it would take for you to call.” She pauses for a beat. “And then I knew you’d call when you were ready. So, what do you say, Gemma? Let’s meet up next week and get this ball rolling. We have shit to do.”

I chuckle at her response, grinning like a fool and nodding my head like crazy. “That sounds perfect. I’ll be in touch.”

“Have a great day, Gemma. I can’t wait to have you on my team.”

“Me too,” I chirp and end the call.

If I hadn’t had the man sitting beside me through this entire thing, that phone call likely would have never happened because I would never have met Cameran in the first place.

It’s our job to want to heal, but sometimes, it takes a loved one to remind us that we have the strength to do so.

Smith Sawyer isn’t my strength. Smith Sawyer reminded me that I have the strength.