AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Knox gives him a short nod, the acknowledgment of his command. Then he leans over me, the sweet smell of his cologne strong on his skin. He’s warm as his chest brushes along mine slowly. He’s all around me then. The buckle clicks into place as he clasps my seat belt.
“Wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” Knox whispers harshly.
He slumps back into his seat but he stays close, his flexed arm stays resting against me searing warmth through my jacket and into my skin. Honestly, I hadn’t noticed that I had put on a jacket.
The crunch of gravel under the tires eventually turns into the smooth sound of pavement until it becomes bumpy and I know we’ve reached the courthouse. Ronan is already out the door, quickly walking up the few steps to my mother’s trial.
Knox clicks the buckle pulling the strap from me. He hovers, his voice low and gravelly. “He wants you to play his game. Don’t let him break you like he broke me.” The heat of his breath fans along my neck and I hate the feelings that spiral through me from his closeness.
Why does he always do this to me?
“What if I was already broken in the first place?” My voice startles him as if he didn’t expect me to speak.
Closer he leans, his temple resting against mine, his lips so close I can almost taste them. His eyes look over my face, searching for something I doubt he’ll be able to find. Then he breathes, “You weren’t fragile enough to be broken before, Violet.”
My mouth opens, my eyes catching on his lips as his tongue slides between them and disappears. But then he’s gone. Moving effortlessly in that silent magical way only Knox knows how to move, here one minute and gone the next.
It’s empty now. My eyes chasing him. Did I want to kiss him? Again, a weird bubbly feeling rises up inside me. But it bursts quickly, dissolving into the familiar nothingness.
My body floats along, carrying me from the car and into the courthouse. Only mildly do I notice the people that walk through the halls or the security guards that stand stationed every so often.
Knox stops at a pair of wooden doors, pointing his finger toward them with indifference. The sound of my boots clicking against the old worn tile quickens in pace, as it seems my body moves faster without my conscious recognizing that it is doing so.
I just want to see her. To know she’s okay still.
I push open the doors, ushering myself in, my attention seeking my mother’s familiar features. A tired blonde ponytail with frizzing hair framing her face comes into view. Large eyes land on me in a panic, her face twisting over her shoulder to see as much of me as she can in a scattered rush.
Yes, I find her but she isn’t where I expect her to be. She isn’t waiting with a lawyer before the judge. She isn’t seated or even being brought to her chair.
No, my mother is already being escorted out.
My heartbeat pounds at the short glimpse of her that I get.
“Mom?” The question dies on my lips as she fades from view through the doors at the front of the room. Two swinging doors sway in her absence.
Voices stir around the room as a new case starts up.
Realization dawns on me.
That cruel, mean, terrible man whose genetics I sadly share brought me here only to see her being carted off. A sharp clip of the judges gavel echoing through the room draws many people’s attention. He announces her next court date and the next case that is beginning.
I don’t hear it. All I hear is the swoosh of the swinging doors. The whoosh of the blood pounding in my ears. And the anger that makes my heartbeat throb inside my head.
Why would he do this?
I obsessed over this moment all night. I made myself fucking sick thinking about seeing her and what the judge might say and what her future might hold.
I cling to the feeling of anger. The briefest touch of an emotion is like the air that I need before the ocean of oblivion drags me back into its turbulent sea.
Gray blurs before me. So I tilt my head back in an attempt to harbor the tears that want to crawl down my face before anyone can see. A breath later and I watch Ronan walk confidently to my mother’s lawyer striding toward us.
In Ronan’s hands is a plain manilla folder. He leans forward all smiles and charisma, laughing and whispering quietly into the lawyer’s ear. One hand comes up to clap the man on the back and the other passes Ronan the folder in such a casual move that I can’t look away from the quick exchange.
They give each other a quick goodbye and Ronan, to the untrained eye, looks like a nice man. A kind, even concerned, loving father and friend. His steps do not falter even as he walks back down the small aisle between the benches. Touching his fingers to the tip of his forehead he salutes the judge with a boyish grin. Charming, too charming. It’s all fake. Somehow the judge still beams back and gives him a cheerful wave.
They all know each other.
It’s like a punch to the gut that takes the last of my air away with it. The wave finally coming to sweep me away to the darkest parts of the ocean that no one can save me from.
