Chapter 20 Mckenna
TWENTY
MCKENNA
Maverick and I decide to keep our news a secret until we’ve had some time to process it before it blows up on social media and in the press.
“How are you feeling?” Mav asks, pressing a kiss to my temple as he collapses next to me on the couch.
“Good.”
He frowns, studying me closely. “Nauseous? Hungry? Tired?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No. Today I feel good.”
“Good.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. “Are you sure you don’t want me to cancel tonight’s game?”
“Mav! I’m pregnant. I can still bowl.”
“I know. But we’re meeting with the DA’s office in a bit and that could be draining…”
“Thank you for looking out for me. But I don’t want to cancel tonight’s game. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Even if you’re feeling pukey?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Pukey isn’t a word.”
“It should be. It sounds exactly how one feels before they barf.”
I gag. “I hate that word.”
“Pukey or barf?”
“Both.”
“Sorry.” He dips his head.
I snuggle closer.
“I don’t want you to push yourself. You’re still healing and now, with the baby, the meeting with the DA…your body needs rest, Mckenna.”
“Amateur bowling is hardly pushing my body.”
Mav pulls back. “It’s not that amateur.”
I laugh. “I’m good. I want to bowl tonight. And get dinner afterwards.”
“As long as you’re still feeling that way after the final frame.”
“I will.”
“Mm-hmm,” Mav says, not pointing out that I’ve fallen asleep before eight p.m. every night this week.
But today is one of the first days that I haven’t vomited and I want to celebrate that.
Even if it’s at a bowling alley with chicken wings and ginger ale.
I pull in a deep breath, forcing my shoulders to relax, and focus on the feel of Mav’s hand on my back. We’re meeting with the DA. I shuffle into the conference room behind Laura and May, swinging my hand behind me, my fingers searching for Mav’s.
He instantly pulls his touch from my spine to link our fingers together. Squeezing his hand for reassurance, I cling to the warmth of his skin.
Dad couldn’t attend today’s meeting. Partly because I was only allowed one moral support person in addition to my Victim Witness Advocate, May. And because of his involvement in cutting a deal with Mr. Burton, Laura thought it best that he skips this introductory meeting.
When I enter the room, I note the formidable man standing to the side of a circular table. He’s in his mid-fifties, with salt and pepper hair at his temples, a stern, yet stylish, pair of square-frame glasses perched on his nose, and a warm grin.
I manage a small smile in greeting as my eyes dart around the room. Light beige walls wrap around us. They’re adorned with framed photographs of local landmarks. Cold bottles of water are set in clusters on the table along with yellow lined legal pads and black pens for note taking.
I note the details: the scent of coffee, the hum of nearby voices, a folder with my name on the tab—Mckenna Byrne Tate.
I reach out and grip the back of a cushioned chair and slowly, relax.
I can do this. I’ve been waiting months to have this conversation, to move forward after years of feeling stuck, and it’s finally happening.
Here, in a nondescript office in the courthouse.
Mav and I take two seats together as May extends a hand toward the DA. “Mckenna, this is District Attorney Cooper, and he’ll be prosecuting your case.”
“Good to meet you, Mrs. Tate.” He reaches out to shake my hand. “And please, call me Rob.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Rob,” I reply. “Please call me Mckenna. And this is my husband, Mav.”
Introductions are made, coffees and teas are offered, and the usual bit of polite chitchat occurs. Once we’re all seated around the conference table, Rob begins the meeting.
“Mckenna, now that Branson Burton is in custody, he cannot contact you directly. However, indirect methods are always a concern and I’d like to remind you and your family to remain vigilant and report anything out of the norm.”
I nod, clearing my throat. Beside me, Mav slides his hand onto my thigh and I press my palm on top.
“Because Branson Burton is in jail, the substance of our discussion today has changed. We won’t be talking about safety as much as I’d like to begin discussions about your case and developing a strategy for prosecution.”
“Okay,” I agree, nodding.
“Okay,” Rob says, folding his hands on top of my case folder.
Then, he launches into an explanation about pursuing a parallel prosecution along with Kaitlyn Crane, the woman who reported Bran for stalking.
His method for this is that the two-prong approach will keep pressure on Bran.
Plus, Kaitlyn’s family name, well-known and well-connected in Massachusetts, will work to our benefit.
“You will most likely need to testify at trial, or pre-trial, hearings and write an impact statement. May will be integral in helping you prepare for that,” Rob continues.
My gaze shifts to May who offers me a smile and reassuring nod. “Don’t worry, Mckenna. We will work thought it at a pace you’re comfortable with.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, my voice thick with emotion. Feelings I was unprepared for bubble to the surface—relief and gratitude.
Mav shifts closer to me, offering as much comfort as possible without pulling me into his lap and wrapping his arms around me.
But after years of thinking I was crazy, years of questioning myself and doubting my reactions to Bran, it is a massive relief to know that the people sitting in this room believe me.
That they’re willing to fight for me and other people in my situation.
I know a lot of women don’t have the same support system I do.
That’s why it’s even more important for me to move forward with my prosecution.
I blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Laura moves to place a box of tissues nearby and I pluck out two as Rob continues to outline the various outcomes of our prosecution.
“While we’re going to push for conviction, Branson Burton may plead guilty or take a plea bargain, which would lessen the severity of his charges.
There may also be a conviction on lesser charges, such as stalking instead of sexual assault.
There can also be a dismissal before trial, an acquittal, or a mistrial.
The first two scenarios would result in no conviction while a mistrial would leave the door open for us to retry the case.
I want you to be aware of all the potential outcomes.
” He fixes me with a long, empathetic look, and I read the years of experience in his gaze.
Experiences that have provided tempered disappointment more often than outright jubilation.
Having just graduated law school, I understand the checks and balances built into our legal system as well as the various outcomes a case like mine may encounter. “Thank you, Rob. I understand,” I say.
He nods. Our meeting continues for a few minutes to discuss next steps and then, I’m shaking Rob’s hand and exiting the conference room. Laura hangs behind to exchange a few words with Rob, but May accompanies Mav and me to the front of the courthouse.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
Biting my bottom lip, I pause to take stock of the emotions coursing through my limbs. It’s almost like an out-of-body experience. Part of me can’t believe I’m here, at the courthouse, preparing to try my case against Bran. “Relieved,” I say finally. “Relieved but also realistic.”
May pats my forearm. “You’re doing great, Mckenna. Please call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, May,” I say.
Mav and I wait to say goodbye to Laura who promises to be in touch in the following days.
“You were wonderful in there, Mckenna,” Mav says as we walk to meet Alfred and Drew, idling at the curb in the black SUV.
“I’m glad you came with me, Mav.”
“Of course. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
I smile at him. “I know.”
“Are you tired? It’s still not too late to call off bowling.”
I snort and shake my head. “I feel okay. Good,” I amend. “And I want to go bowling.”
Mav sighs but he doesn’t try to change my mind. Instead, he pulls open the back door and offers me his hand. “After you, my lady.”
I roll my eyes but appreciate his playfulness. I welcome the lighthearted levity Mav reaches for after the seriousness of our meeting with the DA.
I slip onto the seat and greet Alfred and Drew. Staring out the window as we pull away from the courthouse, I can’t help but smile. No matter what happens next, I’m proud of myself for taking the next step, for willingly confronting Bran, for seeking closure and justice.
“I’m so happy to see you!” I gush, wrapping Allegra in a hug later that evening.
“We just landed in Boston two hours ago.” She hugs me back. “I’ve missed you, Kenny.”
“Me too.”
She pulls back to look at me, her eyes searching mine. “How’d today’s meeting go?”
“Better than I thought. With Bran behind bars, that unsettling feeling of looking over my shoulder is mostly gone. Instead, we were able to focus on the trial instead of safety precautions.”
“Good,” Allegra says, pulling me in for another hug. “You could use some good news, Kenny.”
Mav shadows my back, his fingers caressing the center of my spine. It takes me a second to realize he’s drawing a message on my back: B-A-B-Y.
Baby.
He’s letting me know he’s in if I want to spill the beans about our baby. Our best news. I don’t know how he sensed it, but he’s right.
After the step forward we took today at the DA’s office, I want to share happy news. I want something beautiful and hopeful to celebrate. And the fact that we are surrounded by friends, by Mav’s brother, by people who genuinely love us…well, is there a better time?
“We have to tell you something,” I blurt out, releasing Allegra.
Jameson’s head snaps in my direction and he nearly drops the bowling ball he’s testing on his foot.
“Shit,” he mutters, placing it back down.
Levi arches a questioning brow, folding his arms over his chest.