Love Song Series Box Set (34 page)

Time passes as I hide in my safe haven. I’m once again the frightened little girl. I cry rivers worth of tears and pray that Dean won’t come. He’s going to be so mad. Maybe he will finally kill me this time. Then, it will all be over. I will finally be free. Quiet settles in around me, and my mind wanders, trying to grasp at something, but I’m not sure what.

A gentle knock jerks me out of my stupor. Confusion takes hold when the soft voice on the other side of the door breaks through the haze. “Bethany? Baby, please come out. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Brandon?” I croak, my throat hoarse, and the world comes crashing in on me.

Oh my God, what did I do? Tears stream down my face as I close my eyes. I can’t believe this happened. I can’t believe I did this to him, to myself.

Light streams into the closet as the door slowly opens. “I don’t know what I did, but I swear if you come out of there, I’ll never do it again.”

I open my eyes and look up at him. “You did nothing wrong. I’m just too broken to be fixed.”

His eyes fill with pain as he shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

Before I can argue, he slides to the floor and moves closer to me. “You may be broken, Lady Bug, but I swear to God, I’ll pick up your pieces and make you better than new.”

As I feel his weight settle next to mine, I lean my head onto his shoulder. I need to touch him, to feel his strength. “I’m not sure if I can be put back together, Brandon.”

He gently wraps his arms around me and pulls me onto his lap. Instead of feeling trapped, I feel protected. “If that’s true, we’ll be broken together.”

Chapter Eleven

I sit here in the courtroom, forcing my body not to betray me. As I struggle to keep my fear at bay, my stomach starts to churn. At any moment, I’m going to be sick. “I think I need to go out and get some air.”

Brandon squeezes my hand, trying to ease my fear. “The judge is going to be in any moment. You can’t leave.”

“But, I’m not feeling well,” I say, hoping he will let me run away.

He leans over to me and places his forehead to mine. “You are going to be fine. I promise.”

I take in a deep breath before pulling away and nodding. “Okay.”

I move my eyes from Brandon to where my mother is sitting on the other side of the courtroom with her lawyer. I’m surprised that my father isn’t sitting by her side. In fact, he still hasn’t shown up. My mother keeps looking toward the back of the courtroom, so I’m sure he’ll be here any moment, and that is when the fireworks will start.

Before I can turn my head, my mother catches me watching her. As soon as she lays eyes on me, an evil smile crosses her lips. She looks between Brandon and me before snarling and turning away. “Why does she hate me so much?”

He doesn’t bother asking who I’m talking about. “She doesn’t hate you, baby. She hates herself.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’ve been around people like that before. They hate their life so much that they do their best to make sure the people around them are just as miserable. Hell, I was one of them not so long ago.”

I shake my head in denial. “You have never been like her.”

“Maybe not as bad as her, but I hurt you because I felt like shit about not protecting Julie. I lashed out at someone I cared about to make myself feel better. It might not be the same thing, but it’s awfully fucking close.”

I don’t bother denying the truth behind his words. Yes, he did try to hurt me, but no, he is not like my mother. He could never be that cruel. Shaking my head again, just to let him know I think he is wrong, I lean into him and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Shut up.”

He chuckles before giving my hand another squeeze. “My lips are sealed.”

I wink at him before straightening in my chair. My thoughts whirl around in my mind. So much has happened in the last week that my mind can’t keep it all straight. The day after we were married, Brandon demanded that I file a restraining order against my parents. I argued, knowing it wouldn’t do any good, but Brandon argued longer and louder, so I finally gave in.

Surprisingly, the order of protection against my mother was issued within twenty-four hours of filing the paperwork. Her many phone calls, threatening letters, and pending legal action all showed cause to have it issued immediately. Not surprising in any way, the order against my father was denied. No direct evidence could be found that would tie him to my mother’s actions, so the judge had no choice but to deny our petition.

Everyone expected my parents to drop their case, once my mother was served with papers, but I knew better. I know my parents, and I know they don’t give up when they want something. They will do what they have to, to get what they want, especially if what they want is me.

Brandon lays his arm over my shoulder as we sit waiting for the judge to come out. “I would never let anyone take you from me. You know that, Lady Bug, don’t you?”

I know he wouldn’t. There is no doubt in my mind that Brandon will fight tooth and nail to keep me away from my parents. If there was any way he could keep me safe, he will find it, but he may not be able to save me this time. Afraid as I am for myself, I worry more for Brandon. If my parents win, it will devastate him.

Hiding my fear behind a smile, I look up to his beautiful sapphire eyes. “I know.”

We go quiet again, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My nerves get the best of me again, and I start to squirm in my seat. Brandon lays his free hand on my knee just as the judge walks in. “Calm down, baby.”

The judge sits down and immediately pounds the gavel. “Let’s get this mockery started.”

“Your Honor, I obj….” my parents’ lawyer starts, but it is cut off by the judge’s gruff reply.

“We haven’t even started anything yet. What in the world would you have to object to?”

“You seem to have some pre-conceived notions about this case.”

“I’ve been doing a little digging on this case, and I’ve found a few things quite interesting,” he says to the lawyer then moves his eyes to my mother. “Seems your money and power spread far and wide, but they won’t buy you what you want in my courtroom.”

“Your Honor, Miss Daniels’ mother is simply concerned about her only daughter.” My parent’s lawyer tries again, but the judge is having none of it.

“Another thing, Bethany Walker is no longer Miss Daniels. She is now a married woman and has chosen to take her husband’s last name. From this point on, she will be addressed as Mrs. Walker.”

“They won’t be married long,” Mother shouts, shooting daggers at me and Brandon.

Her words cause my body to tense, and I let out a little moan of distress. Brandon pulls me closer to his side and mummers, “Shhh, baby.”

I watch as the lawyer motions for Mother to be quiet, then turns back to the judge. “I’m sorry, Your Honor. I was not aware of her change in marital status.”

The judge cocks his brow in question. “That’s surprising, since her married name is listed on the order of her protection that was served on your client.”

My mother’s lawyer jerks his head toward her. I watch him mouth the words
what the hell
and narrow his eyes. He looks back toward the judge and says, “May I have a moment to speak with my client before we proceed?”

The judge shakes his head. “No. Anything you need to speak with them about should have been said before I walked in this room.”

“But, I was not made aware of all the facts surrounding the case prior to coming here today.”

“That’s not my problem. It’s not Mr. Friedman’s problem,” the judge says, motioning toward my lawyer. Then, he points toward me. “It’s definitely not Mrs. Walker’s problem.”

“Your Honor, please,” he mumbles.

The judge shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest, letting the entire court know the decision was final.

The next twenty minutes are spent with my mother’s lawyer trying to do his job, without being charged with contempt of court. Mr. Friedman, on the other hand, is leaning back in his chair smiling. When he looks toward me and winks, I feel the weight of the world lift from my shoulders.

I lean into Brandon and whisper in his ear, “They’re going to lose.”

He smiles and kisses my forehead. “I told you, Lady Bug. You’re mine. No one will ever take you from me.”

After the other lawyer finishes presenting all his so called evidence, the judge leans forward and starts to shake his head. “It is cases like this that make me question my chosen career.”

He lifts his hand and motions toward me. “Mrs. Walker is a college graduate. She has a full time job, molding the minds of our future. She appears to be healthy, in both mind and body.”

“But, Your Honor, my client believes her daughter is suffering from mental illness. We all know that mental instabilities are sometimes hidden. Considering Mrs. Walker’s past medical history, I agree with my client that she may need someone to help take care of her.”

I don’t understand why the judge and my parents’ lawyer keep speaking as if my father is not involved in this. I didn’t actually read through all the paperwork; I truly didn’t want to see what it said, but I know he had to play a role in this.

The judge scoffs. “I assume you believe that your client would be better suited with your client than her own husband to care for her needs.”

“As I said earlier, I did not have all the information needed when I arrived today. Without talking with my client, I am unable to say if her husband is a suitable caregiver.”

“I believe I can ease any concerns you have considering Mr. Walker’s ability to care for his wife,” Mr. Friedman says as he stands up. “If I may, Your Honor.”

The judge tilts his head, giving him permission to continue.

“Mrs. Walker was married to her husband less than a week ago. The marriage certificate was filed at this very court and is legal and binding.” Mr. Friedman turns to motion toward Brandon. “Mr. Walker is a veteran of the War on Terror. He has served multiple tours of duty in both Iraq and Afghanistan, earning him the rank of Master Sergeant. He received an honorable discharge after being injured when his Humvee hit a roadside bomb.”

I watch the color drain from my parents’ lawyer’s face as Mr. Friedman begins to list all of the medals Brandon earned during his time overseas. A slow smile crosses my face, and I reach under the table and squeeze Brandon’s hand.

“I’ve heard enough,” the judge shouts, his anger at the situation apparent. “If there is no further evidence, I’m ready to rule.”

To this, my mother responds by sharply standing up and starting to shout. “She’s not capable of taking care of herself. She never has been. She needs someone that knows her, not someone she just met.”

“Counselor, you need to control your client before she finds herself spending the night in a cell.”

My mother ignores the warning and refuses to even look at her lawyer. “Do you really think a man that spent that entire time killing people is the right person to care for her? He’s probably just as unstable as she is.”

The judge’s eyes narrow as he responds. “You may be shocked to know that many men return from war, after having no choice but to kill those that threaten our freedom, and go on to live a very productive life. Some even become judges.”

My mother’s lawyer steps in front of her, cutting her off before she can cause more damage. “Your Honor, my client did not mean to imply anything uncomplimentary toward you or any of the brave men and women that fight for our county.”

The judge slashes his hand in the air, bringing silence to the courtroom. “Mrs. Daniels, I am not sure why you are so adamant to gain guardianship of your step-daughter, but it’s not going to happen today.”

Wait. WHAT? What are they talking about? I look at Brandon, confusion marring his face. “Did he just say I was her step-daughter?”

Brandon nods before placing his lips near my ear. “Did you know she isn’t your mother?”

I shake my head in the negative before turning to Mr. Friedman. “What are they talking about?”

He simply places his finger in front of his mouth and looks back to the judge.

“You would never be able to gain guardianship, even if she was deemed a danger to herself. If her father had pressed the issue, I may have been intrigued enough to dig further. Considering his name is nowhere on these papers, the point is moot.”

The judge looks toward the back of the courtroom and says, “On that note, I want you to understand something. I do not believe there is anything to find in this case that would warrant Mrs. Walker losing her rights.”

I turn my head and see my father sitting in the back of the courtroom. He is impeccably dressed as usual, but he looks so different than I remember him. The last year has not been kind. His once deep red hair is now full of silver strands. His eyes are hollow, looking as if he has not slept for weeks. He looks nothing like the man I once called Father.

“You’re a judge yourself, so you should know this, but I’m going to remind you this anyway. Missouri or Tennessee, it wouldn’t matter, justice is blind. It isn’t swayed by money or power. We do not try to manipulate it to pacify our wants or even our needs. If this mess continues, I will find the urge to dig further, and when I
do, I would feel compelled to report anything I find to the ethics committee,” the judge says, shuffling his paperwork. “This case is dismissed.”

As soon as the judge walks out of the courtroom, my mother stands up and starts screeching for my father to do something. Surprisingly, he shakes his head at her and turns away. When he does, our eyes meet. He gives me a look I can’t quite read. It’s a mixture of pain and relief. I’m not sure what either emotion means.

“Bethany.” I hear from behind me. I turn and look at Julie, tears running down her face as well as mine. “Did you know she isn’t your mother?” she whispers.

I shake my head. “No. I don’t know what the judge was talking about.”

“I’m just glad to know that bitch is nothing to you,” Brandon says as he stands up and offers me a hand. “Now that you know, she no longer has any power over you. Not even in your mind.”

I take his hand, standing up, and ask the question that I want to be asking my parents right now. “How can she not be my real mother and not tell me? Some parents might try to shelter their child, but not her. She would’ve taken great joy in rubbing that in my face.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, baby. Right now, I really don’t fucking care. We’ve just won, so it’s time to celebrate, not think about this shit.”

I want to argue with him, to tell him how bad I want to know the truth, but I decide that he’s right. I’m free, and that is something to celebrate.