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“I’m not.”
She grins. “Didn’t think so. Get dressed, and I’ll prep you on everything I have.”
“Sounds good.” I dress quickly, feeling hopeful for the first time since I took the blame for Nova. Hopeful that this will all play out the way justice dictates. Hopeful that I’ll be standing close enough to Sophie to smell her sweet scent before the day is over.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m standing beside Noelle in my monkey suit as Judge Angus Chandler addresses me and the court.
“You’ve served your country with honor, Mr. Rutherford and that means something in my courtroom. The prosecutor wants me to consider your previous conviction when considering the incidences that occurred since your stay at the county jail, but the exculpatory evidence your attorney uncovered must not be overlooked.”
I swallow because it’s still unclear which way this is going to go, and the first trickle of sweat pops up along my hairline. I simply nod to let Judge Chandler know that he has my full attention.
“This kind of evidence is the cornerstone of our justice system. You are presumed innocent until the evidence has proven your guilt. In this instance, the evidence has proven your innocence, so the murder charges are dropped with prejudice.”
My shoulders sink in relief, and I nod, but I sense he’s not finished speaking.
“You need to learn to control your temper, Mr. Rutherford, but having a short fuse isn’t against the law. The incident with Mr. Olivera is a clear case of self-defense, and the prosecutor has dropped the pending charges against you. For the incident yesterday, there’s no evidence to say either way, so I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt. Mr. Rutherford, you are free to go, and please let this be the last time I see you in my court.”
“It is, Your Honor.” I never want to even see a fucking courthouse ever again.
“Good.” He bangs the gavel, and that’s it. The nightmare is over.
I turn to Noelle with a shaky smile and possibly a hint of shock. “You are a woman of your word, Noelle. Thank you for everything.”
Her response is a tight hug, and I’m reminded there’s still good in this world. “The paperwork’s just a formality at this point,” she whispers, handing me her card. “You’ve got my number if you need it.”
I pocket the card with a nod. “Appreciated,” I say as we make our exit, the heavy doors of the courthouse closing behind us.
Getting processed out is slow and bureaucratic, but eventually, I’m out. Olly’s waiting in the van, his face split with a huge grin. As we hit the road toward Angel Harbor, there’s only one thing on my mind.
Sophie.
CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Sophie
I spent the past few days in a whirlwind of emotions, veering between tearful outbursts, cleaning frenzies, and gripping fear. But now, finally, I’m starting to regain my footing. Well, as much as I can, given the circumstances.
I can’t explain the mysterious cars that seem to follow me or the unnerving prank calls that began a few days ago. Since I have no control over those things, I’m focusing on what I can control—myself, my home, and my baby.
Speaking of the baby, I throw on a pair of comfy maternity shorts I got with the money Shades gave me and an old T-shirt. My hair goes up in a messy bun as I turn up the volume on some girl power anthems. Today, I’m tackling the guest room.
As I scrub and dust, my mind drifts to thoughts of my baby. Will it inherit my features or Tank’s rugged charm? Will it have his striking gray eyes and my dark, wavy hair, or perhaps the opposite? In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. I just want my baby to be happy and healthy.
But practical concerns tug me back to reality. Finances are a constant worry. The money from the Reckless Souls won’t last forever. Hannah’s been urging me to get a job at the hospital, and she’s right. Raising a child without a steady income daunts me, in fact, lately, it keeps me awake at night.
Thankfully, my health insurance is still active. I can’t help but feel a small, albeit grateful, shiver of relief.
Just as I lose myself in these thoughts, the phone rings. My heart lurches with a mixture of anticipation and dread. An unknown phone number stares back at me from the screen. I swallow hard and answer hesitantly, “Hello?”
Silence on the other end. No background noise, just an eerie void.
“Hello?” I bark again. My annoyance seeps into my voice, but there’s still no response. I don’t give the mystery caller another second of my time and end the call with a frustrated grunt. And then I block the number.
Asshole.
The thought of moving to a new place briefly crosses my mind, but reality quickly sets in. Without a job, that’s not a feasible option.
“Back to the nursery,” I mutter to myself, trying to regain my composure.
