“Yes, I … I think so.”
“Wonderful,” he says. “Now, if you don’t have any questions, I need to make a quick call before court commences.”
Eddison excuses himself with a polite nod, leaving us as a family. Seeing the terror in Addison’s eyes, Mom steps into her and wraps her in her arms. “Everything is going to be okay,” Mom promises. “Considering the charges, Colby will be refused bail. There’s not a doubt in my mind, Addison.”
Addison buries her head into Mom’s neck and tries to find her composure as Dad’s phone rings loudly through the silence. He cringes and double-checks the time before accepting the call. “You’ve got two minutes,” he says, turning and heading back down the steps. “What do you need?”
Frustration burns through my veins. For just one fucking day, Addison needed her father to offer his complete, undivided attention, but that’s too hard for the motherfucker. Is it such a stretch to turn your phone off for a few hours for the sake of putting your daughter’s rapist away? Fucking hell.
I scowl down at my father as Mom does what she can to calm Addison when I notice a familiar black Aston Martin pulling up to the courthouse. Anger pulses through my veins at seeing the pretentious asshole getting out of his car, a fucking smirk sitting on his lips as though he’s got this in the bag.
Orlando Channing will get what’s coming to him, and when that time comes, I’ll be all too ready to sit back and watch. Just the thought of that guy being Brielle’s stepfather makes me sick. She deserves better, so much better, and I can’t wait to be the one to take her away from it all.
Orlando skips up the stairs two at a time before disappearing into the courthouse, but not before sparing me a glance, that cockiness on his face enough to rock me right to my core. I don’t trust that motherfucker one bit, and I don’t doubt that he’s got plenty of dirty cards up his sleeve, but it’s nothing Eddison Bishop hasn’t already assured us about.
Eddison says he’s prepared, but that doesn’t stop my gut from twisting with unease.
“You good?” Addison asks, reaching for my arm and giving it a gentle squeeze.
I roll my eyes and give her a stupid grin. “I should be the one asking you that.”
She goes to say something and, judging by the way her eyes narrow and sparkle, it’s going to be something equally moronic and sarcastic, only my father returns, cutting off whatever she was going to say. “I’m so sorry,” he says, sounding almost out of breath despite having come from only a few steps away. “The Melbourne office is in crisis. I have to head back out.”
I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to knock him out cold as Addison sucks in a broken gasp. “What?” she breathes. “But you can’t go … not now.”
“I’m sorry, honey. My secretary is working out my flights as we speak, but don’t worry, I won’t have to leave until after court. There’s still time and perhaps after court lets out, I can take you for lunch.”
Addison’s gaze drops to the ground, and the pain in her eyes makes me want to scream. “Yeah … I suppose.”
“Alright,” Eddison says, returning to our group. “Time to head in.”
Addison lets out a shaky breath, her disappointment in our father already long forgotten in light of what she’s about to face. As one, we follow Eddison up the stairs and through the doors of the courthouse. After making our way through security, we reach the courtroom and Addison takes a moment to breathe.
“You got this, brat,” I remind her.
She nods to herself as Eddison pushes through the big double doors.
I look around with wide eyes. I’ve never set foot in a courtroom before, but it’s just as I imagined from all the movies. People are scattered around, and as we pass through the aisle toward the front, I see him—Colby fucking Jacobs.
If I could tear his head right off his fucking shoulders, I would.
He wears a cheap rent-a-suit and still looks like shit from the beating the boys and I dished out a little less than a week ago. His bruises are in fine form, and that shattered nose looks like a fucking treat. Pride seeps into my veins, but the moment I realize Addison has noticed him too, all I feel is cold.
We get seated and things are about to get started when a small body pushes in beside me and Bri’s hand slips into mine. “What the hell are you doing here?” I question, my brows furrowed as I take her in wearing her Bradford Private uniform. “I thought you had a math test.”
“Screw the test,” she says, eyeing Orlando across the room and sneering. “I got a pass. I can do a makeup test tomorrow. I just … I wanted to be here for you and Addison. I hope that’s okay.”