Page 78 of The Final Straw

“You and your daughter deserve every piece of misery you get in life. Make note you touched what’s mine. Your daughter did it when I wasn't around, but you did it right in front of me. It won't happen again. Stay away from my men,” Olivia snaps. “Thank you, officer, for your help, but we are going to leave now. I know you are arresting her, and I wish to press charges.”

I swear my dick jumps to full mast. Who knew her standing up for me against my ex-wife would do it for me? But it's not that, it's that she called me—no, she called us—hers. Her men.

The officer nods and she steps over to me, linking her arm with mine as we move down the hall a bit so we’re not in his way.

At that moment, Van steps out of the courtroom with the DA, not knowing what’s been taking place in his absence.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“Jessica slapped Kipp and even talking to him breaks the no-contact order, so hopefully that nice officer can add that charge as well," Olivia tells him.

As we wait for the elevator, Olivia turns to Van. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I'm good. We were just going over what will happen after the jury is back and the options if it's guilty or not. But it seems like the three of you were facing more hell than me.”

We all laugh at that, as Jessica’s and Barbi’s cries echo in the hallway. That’s not our problem now.

“You still wanna grab some food and a drink while we wait?” Grady asks.

“Do you ever not think about food?” Ollie laughs.

“I can’t help it, I'm a growing boy,” Grady jokes, causing us to chuckle.

“Yeah, let's go eat. It might not even be tonight that they get back to us.”

This is the family I want. I’m so glad Olivia and Van came into our lives.

Chapter 38

Olivia

Van’s phone buzzes just as our food gets delivered. We chose to eat at an old-fashioned diner that seemed stuck back in time. Lacey’s Diner, with its faded red leather booths and black-and-white checkered floors, was a sanctuary away from the high-stress atmosphere of the courthouse.

"It’s the DA," he mutters, standing up and walking toward the front entrance for privacy. Grady, Kipp, and I exchange wary looks.

We know what the call’s about. The trial has been intense, and we’re all on edge waiting for a verdict. The stakes are high, and the uncertainty has been gnawing at us, especially Van. We watch through the window as he paces, the phone pressed tightly to his ear.

Grady drums his fingers on the table, his eyes darting between the window and us. Kipp leans back in his seat, trying to appear relaxed, but I can see the worry etched into his features. I sigh, feeling the anxiety churn in my stomach.

Van finally returns, his expression unreadable. He slides into the booth next to me and lets out a long breath. "No verdict tonight," he sighs.. "We’re in for another day of waiting."

The tension around the table lifts slightly, but the weight of the ongoing trial still hangs over us. Grady signals the waitress, a cheerful woman named Betty, who has been working here for a long time it seems.

"Let’s get some drinks," Grady suggests. "Might as well enjoy the night."

Betty comes over, her notepad ready. "What can I get you, guys?"

We order a round of beers and settle into easy conversation, talking about anything but the trial. The beers arrive quickly, and we each take a long drink, savoring the cold, crisp taste.

As the evening wears on, we eat our burgers and fries, the diner’s specialty. The food is comfortingly greasy, and we devour it. The second round of beers goes down smoother than the first, and soon, the stress of the day begins to fade.

Kipp raises his bottle in a toast. "To us, and to hopefully having a verdict tomorrow."

We clink our bottles together, and I feel a sense of camaraderie and relief. Whatever happens tomorrow, we have each other.

By the time we leave the diner, it’s dark and the streetlights are on, illuminating the otherwise deserted sidewalk. We pile into Van’s car, our spirits lifted by the food and drinks. The drive back to my apartment is filled with the kind of easy banter that only good friends can share.

Once we arrive, I unlock the door, and we stumble inside, laughing. The apartment feels warm and welcoming, starkly contrasting the sterile environment of the rest of our day. We make our way to the living room, where I turn on some music to keep the mood light.