Page 111 of The Games We Play
“You’ll have your time later to speak, young lady,” he says, dismissing me. “Now, sit.”
My eyes bounce around the room, as my cheeks flush in embarrassment. I glance over at Rocco whose brows are furrowed, and he looks…pissed.
The bailiff makes his way toward the back entrance of the courtroom when suddenly, and very urgently, another officer comes through it in a panic. His breathing is labored and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
He pulls the bailiff through the doorway and it closes behind them, leaving the courtroom in only whispered silence.
There’s commotion amongst the attorney and Nathan's family. The judge, just as confused as everyone else, pounds his gavel. “Order in my courtroom! This may not be a trial, but it’s my courtroom all the same, quiet down.”
The voices fade immediately and almost everyone straightens in their seats. Nathan’s attorney stands and approaches the bench with preferential treatment. The judge leans forward, talking to him in hushed voices, and I can see the judge’s eyes as they side-shift my direction.
The judge's lips move in response, replying back to the attorney, but there’s no way to hear anything they are saying.
Rocco’s body stiffens next to me, although his expression remains the same. When I look over, he’s clenching his fingers around his pant leg. “He’s agreeing with the attorney to postpone the parole hearing.”
Just as Rocco goes to stand—to do God knows what—the bailiff returns into the courtroom and stands behind the judge as he whispers something in his ear.
My entire body is trembling and I’m unsure where to look or what to do. I glance down at my phone, still nothing from Seamus, then over to Rocco.
I can see the concern in his eyes, as they bounce between the bailiff, the attorney, and the judge. Then another proud, lopsided, very hidden smirk, appears and disappears just as quickly.
“What?” Nathan’s attorney shouts out, his voice cracking as it practically squeals through the courtroom.
His head whiplashes our way before he makes his way back to his table where the rest of his staff is.
The judge rises from his chair as he tosses his glasses on the table, making his way to the doorway where there are multiple officers congregating, just as frantic as the first.
As I attempt to stand, Rocco stops me. “Stay seated, we’ll be leaving shortly.”
The judge returns to his chair, but doesn’t sit. Instead, he places his hands on his hips and gazes down at it, before skimming the courtroom. His eyes deadpan to mine and the groove between his eyebrows is judgmental and glaring. Like he’s trying to figure out a piece to a puzzle but he’s not even sure where to start.
My stature remains strong, even though I have no idea what to expect. I don’t know all the details of what their plan was. Seamus said it was better that way.
All I know is they were planning to break into the county jail. What sort of stupid ass plan is that? So who the hell knows.
Is Nathan alive? Did he let him escape so they could do something outside of the courthouse? What did Seamus do? Is Seamus okay? Were they even able to get into the courthouse? I can ask a million questions and probably get zero answers, but nothing could prepare me for what the judge says next.
“Nathan Simmons appears to have committed suicide in his cell,” the judge grits out like it’s painful to say. “He had some sort of shank, cutting his wrists, but when that failed, it looks like he drowned himself in the toilet or maybe the other way around. We don’t know. There will be a full investigation.” His eyes barrel into mine, like a threat, but I’m too shocked to register anything except the fact that Nathan is dead.
He’s dead.
He’s actually dead.
Relief blankets me, but it only lingers for a moment because I’m stunned to silence. I open my mouth to say something, but close it when nothing comes out.
“Who the fuck drowns themself?” Nathan’s attorney shouts, as he runs his hands through his hair before snapping his neck my way.
There’s no way they suspect I could have anything to do withthis, even though their eyes accuse me just the same. Not only have I been sitting in the courtroom, in plain sight the entire time, the dumbfounded look on my face says it all.
How Seamus pulled this off and made it look like suicide is beyond me, but I can’t say I’m upset about it. Since the moment I walked in this courtroom, it’s like everyone else is the victim, and not me. His entire family and their narcissistic personalities, manipulating everyone around them to make everyone else feel sorry for them. And God forbid, this hearing take time out of the judge and attorneys’ busy golf schedule.
Nope. I don’t feel bad one bit.
I feel vindicated as I watch his family act like they’ve been personally attacked. They aren’t grieving. In fact, they don’t even look upset at the news of Nathan’ssuicide. Instead, they're pissed, talking amongst each other, pointing blame at whoever they can.
Rocco reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a yellow lollipop, rips off the see-through wrapper, and tosses it into his mouth.
“Come on, yoga girl. It’s time to go.” He stands and holds out his hand, gesturingladies first, with a very satisfied smile behind the white lollipop stick.
