Page 94 of Thorns That Bloom
He shoots me the kind of glare that says ‘you can’t beserious’, but I am. My expression is firm, unchanging, and he realizes that the longer he stares at me.
With a shaky, teary-eyed breath, he looks away. “You’re insane. You really are,” he mutters, voice trembling.
“But you like it, right? That I’m insane…for you.”
“Mhm…”
I cock my brow hopefully. “You’re flattered at least?”
Sam finally breaks, his pouty frown dissipating and changing into a playful smile. “Let’s go inside. The car’s all fogged up. I don’t want my neighbors to think that…” He scoffs and opens the door, ignoring my wide grin. “Shut up. I’m hungry, and you promised me food.”
Excitedly, I hop out. “That I did. And I always deliver on my promises.”
Chapter 23
Sam
I slip into one of the empty conference rooms, clenching my phone in my hand while taking deep breaths. The past week and a half has felt like the longest in my life. Every day, I sat around, waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for news, or just…waiting. Because courts never move fast, but they sure move faster with an opinionated, pissed off, and highly driven omega as your lawyer.
All day, I’ve had a pit in my stomach in anticipation of the upcoming video call.
The phone rings in my hand when I’m about to sit down. With a huff, I settle into the chair and quickly rest it against a stack of papers on the table.
After raking through my hair and adjusting my clothes, I accept.
Gail and Magnolia sit next to each other in what appears to be their office. They’re both smiling, which hopefully means good news.
“Hey, Sam,” Gail begins.
Anxiously fiddling with my sleeve, I smile. “Hello.”
“No need to look so worried. It all went well,” Magnolia says, a proud, almost cocky expression plastered on her face. Some tension releases within me, but things are never this easy, so I still hold on to some skepticism. She must see that, so she continues, moving some papers in front of her on the table. “The judge ruled strictly in our favor, alright? The restraining order is in place. Permanently. Here, or in any other state, and it applies to both you and your child.”
I can tell she just came from court because her voice is sharp, matter-of-fact, and focused. A little intimidating, even.
“McCarthy’s argument was deeply flawed and couldn’t stand, no matter how his attorney tried to spin it. All we needed was a sympathetic judge with half a brain to see that he screwed himself with the request for the paternity test itself. Which was denied, by the way.”
Oh, thank god. That’s what I worried about the most.
“Rapid Onset Pheromone-Induced Delirium might be a complete defense in the state where the assault happened, meaning we might not have been able to deny the paternity test request, but the judge here clearly saw through the bullshit. You simply can’t claim that you acted outside of your control in the moment, while simultaneously having enough wits about you to know you were the first one to finish in the act. The judge did not look at that very favorably. He told McCarthy that he found his actions deplorable, and he had serious doubts about the ROPID defense overall.”
I blink, staring at my own image on the screen.Is this really happening?
Gail smiles softly, giving me time to work through it.
“So…I’m safe? From him? He can’t…?”
Magnolia nods. “Brandon McCarthy has no rights or legal standing to demand anything from you or your child. Not custody, not visitation… Not even a paternity test. The judge declared his recent behavior to be harassment and threatening, and,especiallycoupled with the previous events, granted a permanent protection order. There’s also a no-contact provision, meaning he’s not allowed to contact you or your child by any means. Texts, mail, calls… All of that’s prohibited.”
“And from what we’ve heard, he’s apparently leaving the hotel he stayed at tomorrow morning. Soon, he should be halfway across the country again,” Gail adds.
When I look down at my hands with a deep exhale, I notice they’re trembling. Not the same way as before, like when he came to my apartment, but almost as intensely. This time, the tight knot of tension is releasing somewhere within me. The emotions I’ve held onto are lifting off me with every twitch of my fingers.
“Thank you,” I whisper, unsure if they can even hear me. Unsure how to properly express the gratitude and relief washing over me; all of it thanks to them.
A few weeks ago, I was powerless and lived with the knowledge that I would never get the justice I deserved. Now, at least Brandon has no power over my life anymore. He lost. He knows what that feels like.
“You don’t have to thank us,” Gail says gently.
