Page 150 of Love Bleeds Red
“You did beautifully, Bailey.” Lizet gives my arm a gentle squeeze.
I only nod, because I can’t trust myself with words... not yet. My throat feels raw from talking, from crying, from forcing myself to speak clearly even when the words felt like coughing up shards of glass. The stone from her garden is still clutched in my palm, worn smooth from me rubbing it during the hardest parts.
Leon is a steady presence beside me. He looks just as exhausted as I feel. Come to think of it, everyone in my family does. Almost like they were all holding their breath the entiretime, scared to breath, afraid to lose it in there. “How are you feeling, love?”
“Tired,” I manage. “But... different? Is that weird?”
“Not at all,” Mom says, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. She’s been crying on and off all morning, but trying to hide it. “You were so strong in there, sweetheart.”
Dad clears his throat, his voice gruff with emotion. “Proud of you, kiddo.”
It must have been hardest on them to hear the details of what I went through. I’m still their little girl after all.
Jasper jogs up the courthouse steps toward us, with Falin, Blake, and Damon close behind. His eyes are red-rimmed and puffy. He had to go grab the others from the coffee shop next door since there was a limit to how many people could come inside the gallery.
Blake wraps me in a hug, sniffling back tears. “How’d it go?”
“Good, I think,” I say, managing a small smile as I take in their grave expressions. “I told them everything I could remember.”
“The prosecutors seemed satisfied,” Lizet adds. “Bailey’s testimony was comprehensive and credible. It should help their case significantly.”
A familiar squeal echoes from across the street, and I look up to see Layne practically sprinting toward us, Ashley jogging behind her in heels that are definitely not made for running. They both look so different from the last time I saw them. Maybe it’s their conservative court outfits, or maybe it’s just that they’ve matured so much. We all have.
“Bailey!” Layne reaches me first, pulling me into one of her bone-crushing hugs. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here. You’re okay.” She pulls back to look at me, tears in her eyes. “How’d it go? We tried to get inside but they were dicks.”
“It went alright,” I say, laughing slightly.
She pulls me back in for a hug. Ashley joins her, and for a moment I’m transported back to simpler times. Cramped dorm rooms and late-night talks and worrying about nothing more serious than Layne’s drama with Clay.
“I can’t believe you guys drove all this way,” I say when they finally release me.
“Are you kidding?” Ashley says. “We wouldn’t miss this. Layne threatened to steal my car if I didn’t drive her.”
“I absolutely would have,” Layne confirms. “But I probably would have crashed it into a tree within five miles, so thanks for the ride, bestie.”
“Yeah, she’s a terrible driver,” Ashley says with a laugh.
I introduce them to everyone and it’s only awkward for a moment, until Layne recognizes Leon and makes her signature holy shit eyes at me. And then he speaks and she grips my arm like her knees are about to buckle.
“That accent,” she whispers so only I can hear. “Panty-melting.”
“Oh my God.” I shake my head. “You’re not wrong though.”
“So,” I say, looking around at our large group, “I know exactly where I want to go for lunch. There’s this cafe about ten minutes from here that has the best grilled cheese and tomato soup. Total comfort food.”
“That sounds perfect,” Mom says, still looking at me with that mixture of pride and concern.
“We’ll need two cars though,” I continue, doing a quick head count. “That’s... a lot of people.”
“I can drive the college crew,” Ashley volunteers, jingling her keys. “Plus whoever else wants to cram into my backseat.”
“I’ll go with you,” I decide, surprising myself. A few months ago, the thought of being separated from Leon or my family would have sent me into a panic. Now it feels... normal. Like something the old Bailey would have done.
Leon’s eyes dart in my direction, crinkling with concern, but he doesn’t say anything.
“You okay with that?” I add, looking at him.
“Of course,” he says, though I can see him fighting his protective instincts. “We’ll follow right behind you.”
