Chapter Twenty

I am a royal asshole. I've known guilt before, but nothing like

this. It's eating me alive. I watch her warily as we dress for

court, terrified that she's going to panic again.

She rolls her eyes. She

thinks I'm treating her like glass, like I'm

overreacting.

But she didn't have to see

what I did. She lived it, yes, but she didn't have to watch it.

The girl I love fighting for breath on the balcony, her eyes

rolling back, unseeing, unable to hear a word I said.

And she doesn't have to

stomach the guilt of blame. Of lies.

I hate myself. I fucking

despise myself.

But there's no other

choice. Not right now.

I try calling her mother

again, but again, it goes straight to voicemail. I leave her a

third message, asking her why court was delayed, why she isn't

riding with us to court, and to please call me back.

I wipe my sweaty palm on

my suit pants before I take Rory's hand. Her brows pinch together.

My nerves are out of character and for the first time I wish she

didn't know me as well as she does.

Her friend Chip is waiting

inside the courthouse just past security. He asks about the delay,

and neither of us can offer more than a shrug.

No one is in the hall when

we arrive, and we're only two minutes early, so we head right

inside.

I freeze at the scene that

greets us.

I don't understand

it.

Rory's mother stands with

the prosecutor, huddled over some papers, marking things

urgently. That motherfucking bastard sits

dejectedly at the defense's table, and his father sits beside him,

his own expression reflecting that of his son, but with an added

veil of anger. Their lawyers talk to them, or at them as they don't seem

especially responsive, and then one walks over to the prosecutor to

murmur something.

But the strangest thing is

Rory's father. He's sitting behind the prosecution's table. On the

wrong side of the room.

Something's happened. But

what? We haven't talked to anyone yet, haven't reported the

Facebook message. I look down at Rory who obviously has no clue

what's going on either, but she's so confused by the scene that I

worry she might panic again. I squeeze her hand in a reassurance I

don't actually feel, and lead her to the bench behind the

prosecutor, as far away from her father as possible.

Her mother sees us and

motions for us to sit, too preoccupied to even tell us what the

hell is going on, and it pisses me off.

"What the hell is goin'

on?" Rory voices my very thoughts, her accent betraying her

nerves.

"Seriously," Chip

adds.

He's a nice kid and he

seems to really care about my girl, and fortunately not in a way

that makes me want to kick his ass, but right now I wish he wasn't

here. I don't know what's going on and it all feels too

personal.

I slide my arm around

Rory's shoulders, no longer giving a shit what the judge—who isn't

even here yet—will think. "I don't know, baby girl, but it's going

to be okay, I promise." I hope to fucking God I didn't just tell

her another lie.

The bailiff comes in to

announce the judge's arrival and silence falls over the room. We

all stand automatically, but fuck, now we can't even talk to the

prosecutor, or Rory's mom, who's now standing beside her as if

she's her second chair.

Rory and I exchange a

worried glance. The judge tells us to be seated. Rory's grip on my

hand tightens almost painfully and I rub little circles on her

shoulder with my thumb.

It's going to be okay,

baby girl. It has to be.

"So I hear you've all had

a busy morning," the judge says.

I hold my

breath.

"Yes, Your Honor," both

the defense lawyer and the prosecutor say in a stagger.

"Do you have the

agreement?" the judge asks.

"Yes, Your Honor," the

Prosecutor says again, and the judge motions her

forward.

Prosecutor Counter

approaches the bench and hands the judge the documents she and

Rory's mother had been working on until the moment the judge

arrived. The judge skims through them with interest.

Agreement. What fucking

agreement? Would they

have gone behind Rory's back and pled that

motherfucking bastard out? Would Rory's

mother do that to her?

Shit, I need to tell them about the Facebook message before it's

too late!

"Amy," I loud whisper,

trying to get her mother's attention. She turns back to me and

presses her index finger over her lips, indicating that I should be

quiet. Fuck that. "Amy," I whisper louder.

She turns again, her face

intently serious and she fucking shushes me. I'm so stunned by her

dismissiveness that it actually does shut me up.

"Okay," the judge says

loudly, seemingly satisfied with whatever she's read, and we all

turn back toward the bench.

I tighten my hold on

Rory's shoulders.

"So, Mr. Forbes, you've

decided to change your plea then?"

I was fucking right. A

fucking plea deal.

Goddamn it.

Rory was right all along.

I can't believe I let this happen! And I can't do a thing other

than sit here and watch it unfold.

That motherfucking

bastard's lawyer nudges him and he

stands.

"Yes ma'am." His voice is

toneless.

"And it is?"

"Guilty."

Rory audibly gasps. I

don't know if she thinks this is a good thing, or if she

understands the implications—that this is just part of the

deal.

What is he getting?

Probation? Community Service? The thought makes my stomach coil

into a tight knot.

"You have been charged

with knowingly violating an Injunction for Protection against

Aurora Pine, sexual assault and battery. You plead guilty to all of

these counts?"

"Yes ma'am."

What the fuck?

Rory looks to me, but I

can't even spare her a glance. I have no answers. This makes no

sense. There is no reasonable scenario in which he would cop to the

violation of his restraining order. Not unless he knew he'd lose

the motion.

Did someone else see the

Facebook message somehow?

"Do you have anything

you'd like to say to the court?" the judge asks.

There's a pause, before he

grits out "No, ma'am."

The judge sighs. "Well I

suppose we can move onto sentencing then."

"Sentencing," Rory breathes. I don't

even think she meant to say it, I think she's just in

shock.

"Robin Wayne Forbes,

you've been found guilty of violating an Injunction for Protection

against Aurora Pine, sexual assault and battery. The charges

together carry with them potential for up to fifteen years. As a

result of your plea agreement with the Prosecutor's Office, I

accept their recommendation of seven to ten years, of which you

will serve the minimum with good behavior." The judge sighs again.

"I hope that will give you ample time to reflect on your choices up

until this point in your life, and make better ones in the future.

You made a wise decision." A meaningful pause. "I'd have given you

the maximum."

It's then that I'm able to

unglue my gaze from the judge enough to remember the most out of

place piece in this game—Rory's father sitting on the same bench as

us, perched at the opposite aisle.

His conversation with

Robert Forbes from yesterday, his story about the vase, it all

ricochets through my mind and I finally understand.

The fucking asshole

finally took up for his own daughter.

In that same moment I also

realize—with no small amount of heartache and shame—I hurt Rory for

nothing.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.