Chapter 21 Everett
EVERETT
The courtroom is silent.
So quiet I can hear myself think.
And that’s what I do. Think.
About the high-profile case I’ve been overruling for months. About the sentence I’m going to give to the child molester in front of me. How he’s going to rot in prison for years.
Mostly, about Aurora, on her first day in the hospital.
While she’s probably crying over cuddling babies, I’m. Fucking. Here.
I’m working when I desperately want to see the expression on her face.
Hug her. I want that too.
Shut up.
I shake her out of my head.
The victim’s family is waiting for my sentencing. They’re crying, their tears running over the dark circles under their eyes.
Their pain bleeds and soaks up the entire room.
I’m suffocated by it. The longer I look at them, the less I obsess over Aurora.
In a way, this is good.
Because this can’t keep happening. The incessant craving can’t keep holding my attention hostage.
Every second I spend around Aurora, every moment I’m reminded of her, my resolve to hurt her weakens.
If not for this sentence hearing, there’s no telling what I would’ve done. I could’ve fucked up royally and pulled her out of the hospital. Kept her in my bed. Defiled her every hole until I got her out of my system.
I could bury my nose in her soft hair, kiss her, and tell her I’m sorry that either of us are stuck in this mess.
I silence that infuriating idea as soon as it rises.
Three dead people count on me to avenge them.
Which is why I don’t dare leave work early. That’s why I’m here, taking out the trash, like I did over the weekend. Since I don’t need my lawyers reporting to me about Aurora’s cases anymore, I cut out the criminal law division in my family’s law firm.
Enough about them though. I focus on my courtroom, on this piece of shit Silva before I read him his sentence. Then, I dive into harsh and unforgiving sentencing remarks. I talk about right and wrong. About justice and responsibility. I let everyone here see just how seriously I’m taking my job.
While I do, I’m being assaulted by memories of my family. Of everything we lost. Everything we’ll never have.
I use them as fuel, as justification for the harsh sentence I’ll give at the end of my monologue.
People shouldn’t be allowed to steal a part of another person’s life and get away with it. They shouldn’t be allowed to commit crimes against minors and cause them irreparable harm, like Winston did. Like Silva.
In the unfortunate case that they do, there’s a price to pay.
That’s why I’ve been put on this earth.
“Mr. Silva, you are hereby sentenced to serve the maximum term allowable under the law in a State Department of Corrections facility for You’ve been found guilty of rape in the first degree involving a minor.
” Reading his offense, I feel anger, hot and claiming, shooting through my veins. “Twenty years in prison.”
I could’ve done worse. Could’ve pulled strings and sent him away for life, the same sentence I once threatened Aurora with.
But I have other plans for him. I called in different kinds of favors, paid off the right people. Made sure everyone in prison knows about the pedophile before he steps foot inside.
Twenty years inside will feel like a lifetime. That is, if he even survives the first month.
The room breaks out in applause. I slam my gavel.
“Order in the court.” My tone is calm but authoritative.
The bailiff steps forward, raising his voice to echo mine, reinforcing the command.
As expected, Silva’s attorney opens his mouth. Reminding me of the day Aurora heard her sentence. “Your Honor, the defendant has no prior convictions.”
As if that means anything. As if the kid he raped hurts any less just because Silva hadn’t done it or hadn’t been caught before.
“I’m well aware that your client doesn’t have a prior criminal record.” That burning, righteous fire in me is determined for justice to be served.
Wrath has my hand clenching into a fist beneath my bench.
Strangely, none of my anger is directed at Aurora this time. The need to take my revenge out on her isn’t even a whisper anymore.
What I feel for her is this ache in my bones. This longing to hold her, to fuck her. Watch her cry and beg.
Her pain, it’s so real. So potent that whenever I’m around her, I can taste it.
She isn’t like the rest of them.
Yet nothing can change the fact that Winston raised her.
The desire to hurt her has dwindled significantly. That’s true.
I’m no longer interested in impregnating her so I can steal the baby from her either.
Truth is, I’m not sure what it is I want from Aurora anymore.
The only thing I’m certain of is that I’m far from being done with her.
“But?” Silva’s attorney pushes, the rude fuck.
“But nothing.” My speech should’ve clued him in on where I stand. I won’t repeat myself. “Court is adjourned.”
This is my last case of the day. I leave the courtroom, head into my chambers, remove my gown, and check my phone.
A missed call. Cormac.
My heart gives a loud thump. A call this early in the day, that can’t be good.
I should be satisfied instead of worried. I sent Aurora there hoping she’d break down and cry.
A week ago, when I planned this, I salivated at the thought of this call. Of listening to Cormac tell me about her pain.
Satisfaction isn’t what I’m experiencing. This twisting in my gut. The clenching of my jaw.
This desire to go over there and protect her from the pain I’ve inflicted, I can’t stand it.
I lock the door behind me and return Cormac’s call.
“Hold on.” His voice is strained. “Mrs. Alder, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
Her muffled, “Okay,” fucks with my head.
I need to see her. Need to hear about how her day was.
From her, like I told her I would.
But I want to hear the whole truth. Every bit of it.
Rubbing a hand over my jaw, I wait for Cormac.
My damn mind doesn’t settle by the time he comes back on the line. “Mr. Alder.”
“What’s going on?” I sound like a fool. Informal. Impatient.
I sound like I care.
I don’t.
“Mrs. Alder contacted her mother earlier today.”
Her mother? Out of all the things she could’ve said or done, she called that bitch?
Doubts gnaw at me, threatening to eat me alive. Sadness creeps in with them. Betrayal.
I thought she hated her parents.
But what if she doesn’t?
What if she’s been lying to me?
What other lies has she been feeding me then?
“And?” I snap, expecting to hear what they talked about.
If she’s plotting with them against me, I swear to God…
“I stalked her and eavesdropped from a distance,” he reports, calm and professional. “From what I gathered, they were arguing. Fighting, more like. I got there when Aurora asked her about her biological father. I can’t be sure. She didn’t get an answer, from the looks of it.”
“Good job, Cormac.” My relief is instantaneous. Her biological father. That’s what she was curious about. Not plotting against me. “Get her home. Now.”
“Will do.” He’s quick to hang up without questioning my orders.
I, on the other hand, am questioning everything. I pinch the bridge of my nose and think.
The Clarkes are a lot like me. Conniving and ruthless, hardly ever leaving anything to chance.
I’m having a hard time believing Winston and Molly haven’t looked into Aurora’s past. That they don’t know who her parents are, who might pose a future threat to them.
With today’s DNA tests and our families’ reach, they could get into any database in the world.
Yet here they are. Lying to Aurora. I’m sure they are.
This isn’t the first thing they’ve been withholding information from her.
Why?
Something isn’t adding up. Something that could derail my plan.
Aurora is a Clarke.
A target worthy of my wrath.
I was supposed to punish her and them for everything.
And yet.
It’s like she’s a separate appendage, not one of them.
For the first time in years, doubts begin to infiltrate my thoughts. They’re polluting my mind.
I could swipe them away. I could.
I do.
I’m never wrong. Not about them. Not about her.
They’re guilty. I goddamn hate them.
I can’t breathe while they’re on this planet, living their consequence-free life.
Then again…
Over the last few days, I’ve realized one thing. Hating Aurora and wanting to fuck her aren’t mutually exclusive.
I have to resent her. I do resent her.
But fuck, I need her, and I’m going to get her.