28. Weight Of Justice
WEIGHT OF JUSTICE
CAIN
H ospitals smell like endings. Like antiseptic ghosts and regret baked into linoleum. I sit beside her bed and watch Faith breathe. Slow. Steady. A little bruised. A lot alive.
Her wrist is sprained and needs rest for at least a week. Her shoulder has a massive bruise—that’s going to take the time it takes. She’s going to be sore.
She did it. She stopped him.
Jamie Da Silva’s in the hospital as well. But he’s chained to a bed. He has extensive injuries. My girl beat the shit out of him. I couldn’t be prouder.
They release her when she bitches and whines that she wants to be home.
I take her to her place as mine is still a crime scene.
She curls up against me in bed and sleeps. I hold her feeling the gamut of emotions: fear, love, anger, relief.
Faith has been through more trauma than most.
The fact that she was attacked in my home is…killing me.
She wakes up to use the bathroom and then goes right back to sleep. It’s the painkillers. I’m glad that she’s getting rest.
While she sleeps, I make an emergency appointment, with the therapist she started seeing two weeks ago, for the following day.
The sessions are over Zoom, so it’s convenient for Faith, who refuses to drive my truck, even though it sits by Ripley’s for most of the day.
She’s saving up to be able to buy a car.
I tell Georgia what’s going on and assure her that as soon as Faith can receive visitors, I’ll let her know.
Ricky doesn’t give a shit that Faith’s sleeping and shows up. He peeks into the bedroom.
“The kid’s okay?”
“Yeah, Ricky. She clocked the asshole with a cast-iron pan.”
Ricky laughs. “She’s a ballsy lady.”
Ain’t that the truth .
Kyle and Lo come by later in the evening while Faith and I are arguing about how she absolutely cannot go to work.
“It’s just a sprain. No biggy.” She holds up her wrist.
“Really? Then do this.” I twist my wrist around.
She sighs.
“You can’t make drinks.”
“I can’t miss work, Cain. I need the?—”
“By God, sweet thing,” I grit out, “you bring up money again between us and I’m going to spank the daylights out of you.”
Her lips twitch. “Did you just threaten me with a spanking?”
I flush. The woman is driving me mad.
Thankfully, that’s when her doorbell rings.
Faith hugs Kyle, taking him by surprise. “Thank you for being there for me.”
He looks like he just won the Governor’s Medal, beaming with pride. I know he feels guilty about what he did to Faith because of Paula. I think now he feels redeemed, and rightfully so.
We sit at the small dining table, with coffee, tea, and a box of Mrs. Hanley’s cinnamon rolls. That’s the other thing. All day, we’ve had an influx of people dropping off food to help Faith recover.
Not sure how cinnamon rolls are supposed to do that, but they’re Hanley’s and I’m not saying no to those delicious babies.
“Silverton is pissed off that one of our own was assaulted,” Lo says as she breaks off a piece of a cinnamon roll.
I glance at Faith. Her eyes are bright with emotion at the words “one of our own.”
Yeah, sweet thing, you’re one of us now! And you’re mine.
“Can we talk about what happened?” Lo asks.
Faith nods.
Lo looks pointedly at Kyle.
“We spoke to Da Silva,” Kyle says, his tone tight.
“Apparently, someone told him you were planning to press charges for the assault. Since Sheriff Z and I had been in touch with SPD, it’s likely one of his old contacts caught wind of it and tipped him off.
” He pauses, takes a breath, then adds, “And it looks like someone also sent him photos of you and Cain—along with the story that your new boyfriend was planning to come after him.”
Faith and I look blankly at one another.
“Come after him, how?” Faith asks, puzzled.
“And who’s this someone?” There’s a bad feeling in my stomach because I think I know.
“Melody,” Kyle replies wearily. “She called Da Silva, riled him up. Gave him your address. Said Faith was there most nights. She told Da Silva that you won’t be home, that she’d be alone.”
I run a hand through my hair. “How?” But I know. “Hell, it’s because I talked to that old biddy from the post office at the gas station about going to Salem.”
“The pleasures of a small town,” Lo states.
“How was he already inside Cain’s apartment?” Faith muses aloud.
I shake my head. “Please tell me it isn’t what I think.”
Kyle looks broken when he nods. “Paula gave Melody the key to your apartment.”
Paula has a spare. She doesn’t use it, forgets she has it…but looks like she remembered, found it, and handed it over to her best friend.
“I didn’t change the locks,” I whisper. “This is my fuckin’ fault.”
Faith puts a hand on my shoulder. “Baby, it’s Jamie’s fault. Just because someone gives you a key to an apartment doesn’t mean you go beat someone up.”
“But make no mistake—they meant for you to get hurt,” Lo says, her gaze steady on mine. “We went through the messages Melody sent to Jamie. She doesn’t just hint—she names Paula. More than once.”
“I don’t understand any of this.” Faith looks like she’s trying to solve an equation that refuses to make sense. “I didn’t do a thing to Paula or Melody.”
“Because small people do ugly things when they feel powerless,” Lo says gently. “You embarrassed them. You survived. You got better.”
Faith looks down at her tea, quiet. I want to wrap my arms around her, carry her to bed, and never let the world touch her again.
But this version of Faith doesn’t need rescuing. Not anymore. She just needs the truth.
Kyle clears his throat. “Sheriff Z is prepping new charges. She’s going for conspiracy to commit assault. Paula and Melody both. That text trail is gold.”
Lo looks at me. I shrug. I can’t be Paula’s savior any longer. This is the end of the road. “Good.” With that one word, I tell Lo and everyone else where I’m at.
“Cain, she’s your sister,” Faith protests.
I cup her cheek tenderly. She knows I love my sister. She doesn’t want her in trouble. My girl’s got a heart so fucking big it makes mine ache. “She’s a grown-up who made some shitty choices, Faith, she needs to deal with the consequences.”
Faith shakes her head. “You’re going to resent me eventually for?—"
“Faith,” Lo cuts in, her voice softer now, “you’re not responsible for what Paula or Melody did. You’re not the magnet. They’re just drawn to their own rot.”
Faith lifts her head. Her eyes meet Lo’s, and then mine. Her posture shifts as if she’s coming to terms with something.
She nods slowly.
It’s the kind of moment you don’t interrupt—when someone’s stitching a truth into their own skin.
Lo stands and dusts her hands. “We’ll stay in touch.”
Kyle gives Faith a crooked smile as they head to the door. “Take care of yourself, Faith.”
“Thanks, Kyle,” Faith whispers.
They leave us in the soft light of the apartment, the scent of tea and coffee clinging to the air like comfort.
I turn to her, voice low but certain. “I’ll never resent you.”
She gives me a trembling, watery smile. “I…I’ll wait for it anyway.”
“Sweet thing.” I lift her gently into my lap, wrapping my arms around her like I can hold all her broken pieces in place. “Why would you brace yourself for something awful?”
Her breath shudders. “Because good things don’t happen to me, Cain.”
I press a kiss to Faith’s forehead, grounding both of us. “I know you don’t trust me yet. Or the universe. Maybe not even yourself. But I’ll earn it, Faith. Every day. I’ll show you—good things can be yours.”
We sit quietly for a while, just breathing, just holding one another.
Finally, she kisses my jaw and stands up.
“Where are you going?” I ask, rising.
She smirks. “You already told me I’m not going to work.”
“Damn right.” I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her close. “But you can argue with me in bed. You know, just to keep things spicy.”
She laughs. Really laughs.
And just like that, the dark lifts.
Not gone. But no longer everything.