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The sound of sirens has us stepping out of the kiss. Relief floods through me.
“Are you ready to do this?” Rome asks, his fingers grazing over the tearstains on my cheeks.
I take a deep breath and grab his hand. “With you by my side, yes.”
Rome instructs Brady to keep Winton and Gage there while we go out and tell the cops where to find them.
After I give a quick rundown of what happened to the cops, Rome heads back in with two officers while I’m checked out by paramedics.
They advise me to go to the hospital overnight, but I don’t want to be separated from Rome. Besides, we both still have to tell our parents what happened and I don’t want to do that in a hospital room.
They bandage me up, and a few minutes later, Rome and Brady come back out.
An officer gathers us all together. “We’re going to need all three of you to come down to headquarters to give official statements of what took place tonight.”
I nod, feeling immense gratitude that this is almost over.
The officer heads back toward the jail where Gage and Winton are being cuffed inside, but Rome stops him. “One more thing,” he hollers “There’s another person who played a huge part in all this—Abby Bower.”
My jaw nearly hits the floor. “Abby?”
Rome looks at me, nodding. “She’s the one who drugged you at the party and also the one who told me I’d find you here tonight.”
The officer radios something in before instructing us to mention that when we give our report, and he lets us know they’ll get her in for questioning.
After all the noise has settled, and it’s just us three left, I take a step back and look at the jailhouse in front of us. It’s not a modern-day jail. Just a flat brick building about the size of a large house. But it’s timeless and I find myself wondering what the walls inside would say if they could speak. Fortunately they can’t, because I want the memories of what happened there tonight to stay locked inside forever.
With my fingers laced through Rome’s, we make our way to Brady's car. The dirt beneath my feet crumbles with each step and in a way, it’s symbolic. I’m leaving the past behind me where it belongs and heading toward a bright future. I make a silent vow to walk, not run. To no longer worry about what other people think because their opinions of me don’t matter.And if they don’t want to stand by my side, they can walk behind me.
CHAPTER 32
ROME
These last few days have been a fucking whirlwind. Giving statements, bandaging new wounds, and reopening old ones to start the process of healing. Now we’re about to lay it all out there for our parents. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
The only thing that has been consistent and unwavering during this time are my feelings for Elodie. If anything, they’ve multiplied times ten.
“Thanks for taking the time to meet with us,” Dad says as he unbuttons his suit jacket and sits down on the living room sofa. Always so professional.
Celia steps behind him and puts her hands on his shoulders, the look on her face is hard to read. I can’t tell if it’s good news or bad news. This could be about the case, or mine and Elodie’s budding relationship. Either way, I’m on the edge of my fucking seat.
At least Elodie is here beside me. We’re about an inch apart sitting on the coach diagonal to Dad and Celia. We decided together that it's best to keep the affection to a minimum when we’re around our families, just so we don’t make things awkward. At least, for now.
“Well,” Elodie says impatiently. “What’s the news?”
Grant looks up at Celia, grinning. “News? Do we have news, honey?”
Finally, a smile grows on Celia’s face. “We do have news. Great news, in fact.”
I scoot forward on the couch, clutching my hands together. Sweat pools in my palms as I anxiously wait for her to spit out this great news.
Celia and Dad share a look of adoration, making us wait even longer.
“For the love of God, Mom!” Elodie blurts out with a chuckle. “Will you just spit it out?”
“I suppose.” Her tone shifts to one more professional and it has me wondering if this is how she speaks in the courtroom. “After reviewing the corroborating evidence with the defense attorney, I requested to file a motion for a new trial.”
I take a deep breath, nodding as she speaks. “A new trial,” I say. “This is good. It’s fine. With the new evidence, we can win this, right?”
