Chapter Twenty-Four
Flynn
I couldn’t stop replaying the dinner conversation in my head as I watched Cedar brush her teeth that night. It had been one week since her rescue, and though we were free from Will’s shadow, my nerves still felt frayed. Every time Cedar left my sight, I wrestled with the worry that something else might happen.
She rinsed her toothbrush, meeting my gaze in the bathroom mirror. I forced a smile, but my unease must have shown.
“Come on, Flynn,” she said softly. “Let’s get some rest.”
We climbed into bed, and she turned to me with a serious expression. “I’m going back to work tomorrow,” she announced, her voice firm. There was no hesitation in her eyes—only resolve.
A rush of protest bubbled inside me. “I don’t want you to,” I said, trying to keep my tone even.
She gave me a raised eyebrow. “Why not? There’s no reason for me to stay home anymore. Your uncle’s behind bars, and I’m safe now.”
I shook my head, my stomach twisting. “You don’t know that. There could still be people loyal to him… or copycats… or—” I trailed off, knowing it sounded paranoid.
Cedar sighed, sympathy in her eyes. “I understand you’re worried, but you can’t keep me locked up forever.” She reached for my hand, weaving her fingers through mine. “I’m a doctor, babe. I can’t just sit around doing nothing when patients need me.”
My chest tightened. She’s right, I told myself. But the memory of almost losing her—and our baby—left a scar on my heart. “I know. It’s just that… I nearly lost you once. It was the worst kind of torture.” I shifted, placing a gentle hand on her stomach. “If anything ever happened to you or the baby again, I don’t think I could survive it.”
Her face softened. “I get that.” After a moment of silence, she offered, “If it makes you feel better, you can get me a guard.”
I scowled. “Not the same as me being by your side.”
She pressed her free hand to my cheek. “And what about your job? You need to be physically at the company—those board members won’t handle themselves.”
I exhaled, shoulders slumping. “I’ve been working from home for a week now, and we’ve managed. Nelly’s been bringing documents for me to sign.”
Cedar let out a small laugh. “You know you can’t run J-KINGS Holdings from home indefinitely. And I can’t treat patients on our living room couch. Plus, Nelly must be exhausted juggling everything.”
She was right—again. But the flashbacks of her abduction lingered. “I don’t know,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I just don’t feel right about you going back yet.”
Cedar gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re being overprotective, Flynn. I appreciate it, but I need my normal life back. And you need yours.”
I pressed my lips together, thinking. “Fine,” I conceded eventually. “But promise me you’ll be careful, that you’ll call me every hour, and that you’ll keep the guard close. Also, check in the moment you get to work and the moment you leave.”
She grinned, amused at my laundry list of demands. “Deal.”
“Speaking of which,” I added, “he can’t follow you into exam rooms and stuff, right?”
She laughed. “Definitely not. Patient confidentiality is still a thing. But he can wait outside in the hallway if that helps.”
I let out a breath, relief easing some of the tension in my chest. “All right,” I said, pulling her into my arms. “I just want you safe.”
“I know,” she whispered, snuggling closer. “But you have to try to relax, okay? We’re past the worst of it. I’m fine.”
I nodded. “I’ll try.” A small grin tugged at my lips. “Now, have I told you how terribly I’ve been missing trailing kisses down your arm?”
Her gaze sparkled mischievously. “Only my arm?”
“Well…”
I leaned in, her laughter echoing softly as I drew her closer, determined to hold onto this moment of peace.
Three Days Later
The hushed courtroom felt surreal. I sat on one of the polished wooden benches, my gaze riveted on Uncle Will standing before the judge. Even from a distance, I could see the fear in his eyes. For the first time in my life, he looked small, like a man stripped of all his bravado.
Cedar sat beside me, her hand entwined in mine. My mother and sister were there too, as well as Will’s wife and oldest son—my aunt and cousin. None of them looked in my direction; they seemed lost in their own private grief.
When they learned the full extent of Will’s crimes—murder, kidnapping, conspiracy—their heartbreak had been almost tangible. They’d come to me asking for forgiveness, not leniency, and I’d told them I held no grudge against them or my cousins. The blame fell squarely on Will’s shoulders.
The judge banged his gavel. “This court is now in session,” he intoned. “The Honorable Judge Patrick K. Wong presiding.”
A wave of tension rippled through the attendees. I stole a glance at Cedar; she looked poised but pale. I squeezed her hand gently, and she gave me a tight smile.
The judge’s gaze swept across the room before settling on Will. He began in a firm, measured voice, “After reviewing all evidence presented in this case, it is the judgment of this court that you, Will Jefferson, are found guilty of the following crimes…”
He listed them in order, each charge striking me like a hammer’s blow:
Murder in the First Degree (H.R.S. §707-701), for taking my father’s life in cold blood.
Tampering with Physical Evidence (H.R.S. §710-1016), for bribing the pathologist to falsify the autopsy.
Kidnapping (H.R.S. §707-720), for abducting Cedar and holding her hostage.
Conspiracy (H.R.S. §705-520), for coordinating the above crimes with accomplices.
Will stood rigid, his face losing what little color it had. The judge carried on, unflinching:
“It is the sentence of this court that you, Will Jefferson, shall serve a term of life imprisonment without the possibility of parole for the murder of Harrison Jefferson. You shall also serve a term of twenty years for the tampering with physical evidence, thirty years for the kidnapping, and ten years for conspiracy. These sentences shall run consecutively.”
I heard someone gasp—maybe Will’s wife, maybe someone else. I couldn’t tear my eyes from him as the judge continued.
“You shall also pay a fine of one hundred thousand dollars and restitution to the victims and their families in an amount determined by the court. You are hereby remanded to the custody of the Hawaii Department of Public Safety to serve out your sentence.”
A hush fell over the courtroom. I swallowed hard, my pulse thundering in my ears. It’s over. The pathologist, my father’s secretary, and the other associates stood in a separate group near the front. Their expressions ranged from shock to resignation as the judge began to read their sentences as well.
By then, my emotions were tangled—relief, sorrow, anger, and even a strange sort of pity for the man who had once been my uncle.
As the bailiffs moved in, shackling Will and his accomplices, I squeezed Cedar’s hand. She gave me a reassuring nod, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes.
My uncle’s gaze darted around wildly, landing on me for a split second. I saw bitterness and regret flicker there, but then he looked away. The guards led him down the aisle in handcuffs, his footsteps echoing in the tense silence.
And just like that, he was gone.
Epilogue to the Courtroom Scene
I remained seated, absorbing the finality of what had just happened. Cedar leaned her head on my shoulder. Slowly, chatter broke out among the onlookers—journalists scribbling notes, attorneys gathering files, and officers escorting the convicted out of the courtroom’s side door.
My aunt and cousin approached us, their eyes brimmed with tears. We stood up to meet them. For a moment, no one spoke. Then my cousin—Will’s eldest son—stepped forward.
“Flynn,” he said hoarsely, “I’m so sorry.” He bowed his head. “We had no idea what he was doing, or that he could… murder your father.”
I felt Cedar’s hand slip into mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s all right,” I said quietly. “You’re not responsible for his choices.”
My aunt nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered. “We’ve lost so much, but at least we can make peace with you and your family.”
My mom joined us, embracing them one by one. Heather stood close, offering a tight but comforting smile. Old wounds wouldn’t heal overnight, but at least the seeds of reconciliation were planted.
We exchanged a few more words before they moved on, presumably to speak with the attorneys. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe without the weight of fear crushing my lungs. The man who’d brought so much pain to our lives would never hurt us—or anyone—again.
Turning to Cedar, I brushed a strand of hair from her face, tears pricking my own eyes. “We can finally move on,” I said, voice cracking just a bit.
She leaned into me, resting her head against my chest. “Yes,” she agreed softly. “We can.”