He pushed open the double doors at the back of the hall.
Officer Martinez was waiting on the other side, flanked by two state troopers.
Through the glass windows of the doors, the town watched. They saw Derek stop. They saw Martinez say something brief. They saw Derek stiffen, his jaw working, before he slowly, reluctantly, placed his hands behind his back.
Inside, Mac let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding for weeks. Cole released him slowly. Jamie kept a hand on his shoulder, saying something low that Rachel couldn't make out.
Then Mac turned away from Derek, his eyes finding hers.
Rachel saw everything in his face: the rage, the pain, the love. He crossed to her in three strides and pulled her into his arms.
She collapsed against his chest, her whole body shaking. The adrenaline that had carried her through her testimony drained away all at once.
"I've got you," Mac whispered against her hair, his voice rough. "I've got you."
The crowd's applause was deafening.
Derek Matthews was escorted out of the room, his reputation in ruins, his crimes finally exposed.
And Rachel finally breathed.
44
Derek
Derek sat in his rental car in the parking lot of the Evergreen Cove Police Station, his designer suit rumpled, his wrists still aching from the cuffs.
Two hours of processing. Fingerprints and photographs. The restraining order officially filed. A court date set for next month. Five thousand dollars bail, paid by credit card like he was buying groceries.
Released with instructions not to leave the state and to stay five hundred feet from Rachel Morrison at all times.
Derek pulled up the town hall video on his phone, someone had live-streamed it. Comments poured in, all condemning him. His professional email was already flooded with colleagues distancing themselves.
His phone rang. Boston Sports Medicine Center. His boss.
"Dr. Matthews, we need to discuss your immediate termination..."
Derek hung up.
His career was over. Not legally, the Massachusetts incident was old enough that charges couldn't be filed, but professionally. Socially and reputationally.
Evergreen Cove had destroyed him.
But Derek had one final card to play.
He pulled up Brad Reese's number. Dialed.
"Derek?" Brad answered, confused. "I thought we agreed not to talk anymore after—"
"Brad, I need you to do something for me. It's about Rachel."
Rachel
Rachel woke up in Mac's bed, their bed, she supposed, since today she was officially moving in, with sunlight streaming through the window and Mac's arm wrapped around her waist.
They'd come back to his apartment after the town hall last night, both emotionally exhausted. Mac had held her while she cried, then they'd fallen asleep fully clothed on the couch, later moving to the bed.
Now it was moving day.
