I look at Banner warily. “I’m sorry, I know they’re your parents, but?—”
“No. They have to pay for what they let happen to Katy and for what they did to you.”
“But they’re your parents.”
“And you’re the love of my life. That trumps everything.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
SORROW
Finally, many months later that we find ourselves here, standing outside the courtroom.
The investigation into Tempest PD was wrapping up. Chief Stephenson losing his job was big news in our small town. As was Katy being granted emancipation.
But this one had been delayed over and over until finally their lawyer had run out of excuses. This was it.
I squeeze Banner’s hand so tight my knuckles bleed white. I can’t help it. The last time I was here, everything crumbled around me. Despite all the support, I can’t forget how many powerful friends the Bannerman’s have. And that’s not considering those who aren’t actively against me—the ones whose hands are tied because the Bannerman’s have something to hold over their heads. As I look around at the people coming to support me, I feel a lump in my throat, reminding me how different things are now. Before I stood here alone. Not one person had my back. In fact, too many were ready to step right over me when I fell. Now, even if Banner couldn’t be by my side, Katy, Marcus, Olivia, and Wade would. And the list goes on.
I don’t think I truly realized how alone I’d been. It’s both humbling and terrifying because I might have something worth fighting for now, but I also have something to lose.
I feel a hand slip into my empty one, and I turn to look at Katy. She looks as nervous as I am. Her story is what turned the tide in the court of public opinion toward the Bannerman’s, but I’d have given anything for her to have been spared what she went through.
“I feel sick. I just want it to be over already,” she whispers.
I give her hand a squeeze. “I know, me too.”
“Whatever happens, we’ll be okay. All three of us,” Banner promises, kissing my temple as Aiden reaches the door and holds it open for us. I offer him a smile. I feel bad that he doesn’t have Matilda with him, but she was worried that her attendance would turn things into more of a media circus than they already are. She’s watching all the kids, though, so Blake, Callie, Olivia, and Wade can attend.
A hand squeezes my shoulder. I look behind me and offer Marcus a shaking smile.
“Deep breath,” he murmurs.
I do as he says and, with a nod, keep moving. We’re ushered into the courtroom and easily fill the seats on the left side.
I glance over at Mr. and Mrs. Bannerman, who are talking to their team of lawyers. Banner is watching them too, his jaw clenched with anger. I can’t imagine what this must feel like for him. These are his parents, for God’s sake, people he loved and respected. To find out what they did, not just to me but to Katy, is unforgivable. They broke whatever bond was left between them, and I don’t even know if they care.
I lift Banner’s hand and kiss the back of it as the judge walks in and calls the court to order. We sit and listen to the charges levied against them. Almost all have to do with buying off police and medical personnel the night I crashed, falsifyingevidence, and lying to pervert the course of justice. I zone in and out for a lot of it. Both of them plead not guilty, which I’m not surprised about. It won’t matter to them that an investigation into Tempest PD found evidence of such wrongdoings. They still believe they’ll get away with it. And I can’t help the small part of me that thinks the same. Maybe it’s an echo of seventeen-year-old me having faith in the justice system, only to find out it was all a farce.
When Katy nudges me, I realize I missed something. The chief walks toward the stand. Well, ex-chief now, I guess. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t finding his fall from grace amusing. More so, he realized what kind of people the Bannerman’s are when they failed to have his back the way he had theirs.
I suck in a jagged breath as he’s sworn in. He doesn’t look like the same man who harassed me just because his friends told him to. As pissed as I am at the Bannerman’s, part of me realizes they’re lashing out because they lost their son. This guy had no excuse, and his badge meant his morals should have been held to a higher standard than the whims of his old scotch-drinking buddy.
He places his hands in his lap after swearing on the Bible and glances around the room, his eyes connecting with mine. Though I want to look away, I can’t. I think, for the first time ever, I can see remorse in his eyes. Whether that’s for his actions or for getting caught, I don’t know, but it’s gratifying to see.
“Mr. Stephenson,” District Attorney Knowles starts. “How long had you worked with Tempest PD?”
“Thirty years, give or take.”
“And how long have you known Mr. Bannerman?”
“Even longer than that. Has to be around fifty years or so.”
“That’s a long time. Not many friendships survive the passage of time.”
“No, sir, they do not.” He sighs, looking at Mr. Bannerman.
“You were working the night Mr. and Mrs. Bannerman’s son, Alec Bannerman, died.”
