21 Kimber
The next few days are calmer, and I mainly focus on working and spending time with Rich. I resist the urge to drink for the following two days, but it’s hard with what the days are leading up to. Sometimes it feels harder than when I stopped cutting years ago.
With Rich’s help, he signs me up for an AA class. It’s about all I can handle with the next thing incoming.
“You’re going to be fine,” David says, walking with me through the courthouse. He’s expressed a few times since I arrived at the office what he thinks about this being back in court, and I know he’s going to try and get the case dismissed. “Just follow what I told you and breathe. The case should be thrown out soon since we can’t retry someone for the same crime, and the family can’t push for a settlement when there’s nothing left to settle.”
“Wait,” I say, stopping in the middle of the hall. David pauses and shoots me a look, and I can feel Rich standing just behind me, running his hands up and down my sides. He hasn’t said a whole lot, and he can’t sit with me in the courtroom since I need to sit with David at the defendant’s table, but he’s here anyway. Having someone around this time makes me feel far less alone. “Is… will his family be there?”
David frowns. “I assume so, unless they hired someone good for representation. Even if they aren’t sitting across fromus, they could be in the crowd. I suggest you try and ignore them. It won’t make getting this dismissed any easier.”
Fear grips me, and I cast my gaze back towards Rich. I don’t want him to see the people I hurt. Jonah was a bad person, but I don’t know if that really extends to his family. They’re grieving, and that just makes me the bad guy in their eyes.
“You can’t look like that in court,” David says, interrupting us before I can say something to Rich that might sound bad. “You look completely guilty. It’s normal to feel bad and even regretful, but you look one breath away from crying. Take a deep breath, Brynne.”
I wince when he uses my real name but follow his instructions, breathing deeply and standing up straight.
“Better,” he tells me, glancing at Rich. “You look ready to kill something. Remember, the family is mourning, even if their son was an asshole.Don’tlook like you’re ready to get up and fight one of them. James told me his dad is a bickerer. We don’t need to make a scene in there.”
Rich blows out a breath and says nothing, continuing to trace his fingers along my skin. It’s soothing, and I’ll miss the contact when it’s just me and David. “I’ll be in the audience. If his dad says one thing-”
“You’llshut upand let me handle it,” David says with a groan. “That’s the whole reason I’m here.”
“Are you going to bring up the harassment?” Rich stresses, narrowing his violet eyes. I glance between the two of them, biting my lip. We went over this earlier, mostly just me and David. He let Rich sit in with me, but for the last few minutes in the office he wanted us to prepare by ourselves. I think it was so he could see how I reacted without Rich’s support, because he’s supposed to be quiet in the courtroom.
“It’ll come up,” David says, looking between us again. There’s a storm in his blue eyes, and although I know he’ssupposed to be professional, I swear he’s mad. His eyes land on me again. “Don’t get distracted with the people sitting in the audience. Support on either side is allowed.”
I just nod, sitting on the bench with the two of them outside the courtroom. David already explained the proceedings to us for a criminal case, which was mostly just a recap for me and more so for Rich’s benefit.
I hate this part. Waiting to go in. Waiting for a judge. Waiting to relive it. David said there shouldn’t be a need to go through everything again since we’re going through the same case, the family going after me for loss of life instead of the dropped criminal charges. He seems confident that I’m in the right, but it does very little to soothe the pounding of my heart.
There’s a chance I was still wrong. Killing Jonah was done in self defense, but maybe there was another way to go about it.
Rich squeezes my hand as we sit together, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “David’s not going to let someone walk all over you. It’s going to be fine.”
I wish I had his confidence.
We purposefully walked over from David’s office with enough time to be early for court but not so early that I would have to talk to Jonah’s parents if they show up. My eyes keep nervously looking around, waiting for the other shoe to fall. I might have a good attorney and an amazing man with me, but could the words of broken parents change their minds about me?
I find out a few minutes later as the courtroom empties and we wait to step in. Down the hallway I can see a few people approaching, and I recognize the older couple right away.
Jonah’s mom doesn’t really look like him, with softer features that contrast the hard angles he had. His dad is portly, with gray hair that’s almost transparent on the sides. He alwayslooks down on me like he finds me absolutely worthless, so I suppose he and Jonah shared that trait.
I stand suddenly, and the two men around me look up. Rich rises immediately after, tucking me to his side, and David is slower to stand. “Samuel.”
Blinking, I glance over. This is a different man walking with the couple than before, and David shakes the man’s hand as he approaches. I guess they know each other. “David.”
That’s all it takes. The duo managed to not say anything to me for all of ten seconds before his mother begins to snarl at me, speaking through clenched teeth. “How dare you do this?”
David gives me a subtle shake of his head from the corner of my eye, and I ignore him. He’s going to complain about that later, because we definitely discussed this back at his office. “Miranda, I’m-”
David interrupts me, clearing his throat with a glare. Right, he advised that I don’t say sorry or anything else until we’re in the courtroom and prompted by the judge. The more I apologize for something done in self defense, the more people will try to read between the lines and search for premeditated guilt.
“You took my son,” Miranda continues, and I wince at the reminder. “His sister goes to his grave every day.Every. Day.How dare you?”
“Mrs. Biggins,” Samuel interrupts, already sweeping his hand towards the courtroom. “That’s enough.”
“No,” she says, her voice thick with tears. At this point I’ve seen her cry enough times I almost think it’s rehearsed. I don’t doubt she’s mourning, I just think she pulls the theatrics out anytime she sees me. It’s great for laying on the guilt as thick as she can. “You deserve to suffer like me.”
