Page 82 of Resilient Rhythms
“What is it? What’s happened?” His eyes roam over me. “Are you okay? Are you in pain? Do you feel?—”
“Bran pled guilty,” I interject. “He was sentenced to thirteen years in prison.”
Mav’s mouth drops open. Then, his eyes narrow. “Not life?”
I snort. “We always knew that wasn’t a realistic term.”
“Should be,” he murmurs.
“Thirteen years, Mav. And he was charged with one count of rape. He was charged for what he did to me,” I say, that relief expanding with every passing minute. As the information of Bran’s sentencing term sinks in, an unbearable weight dissipates from my shoulders, the space in my chest opens up, and I can breathe. Full, deep breaths. I smile. “He’s going to prison.”
“I’m so fucking happy to hear that, beauty.” Mav cracks a grin. “In fact, that’s the best news you’ve told me since telling meyou’re having my baby.” He crosses the space between us and pulls me into his arms. “And asking me to marry you,” he tacks on, kissing me hard. “And agreeing to be my fake girlfriend.” He cups my cheeks, looking directly into my eyes. “And moving in here in the first place and changing my life for the better.”
Pesky tears prick my eyes again. “Mav.”
“He’s going to prison, Mckenna.”
“For thirteen years!”
Mav smiles. “That’s more than a decade.”
I nod, grinning at him through my tears. “I love you.”
“I love you so fucking much, I can’t express it.” He kisses me again, softer this time.
“You do any okay job,” I tell him.
He chuckles.
“I have to call Dad. And Allegra. I need to tell Ivy and Nova.” I point to my discarded cell phone.
“We should celebrate.” He glances around the kitchen. “Here. Let’s throw a house party here. Keep it casual but fun. Just, hang out like we used to.”
“Okay,” I agree.
Mav smiles. “I’ll plan everything. You call your dad and tell him and Jeannie to come over tonight.”
I laugh. “Okay.” I can’t remember the last time we had a party. Well, other than that one time Maverick attempted it and I kicked everyone out.
As if recalling the same memory, Mav pauses and glances at me. “Is this okay with your house rules?”
I flip him the middle finger and he laughs. “Call your dad,” he reminds me. “I’m calling the caterers.”
I sit back down at the island to dial Dad’s number when a call from Laura comes through.
“Laura!” I answer.
“You heard?”
“May called a few minutes ago. It’s true? Thirteen years.”
“It’s true. Do you have mixed feelings about this since there will be no trial now that Bran pled guilty?” Laura asks.
I pause, a thread of uncertainty thrumming through my veins. “I-I don’t know,” I admit slowly. “I was so relieved to hear his sentence that…” I trail off. “Do you know why he pled guilty?”
“I don’t know for sure. I doubt we’ll ever know. But the rumblings I’ve heard are that his family put pressure on him by cutting all financial resources, including legal representation. His cousin Eric was the last to bail Bran out, but once Eric decided not to fund Bran’s legal fees, he didn’t see a way out. Going to trial would have been gambling. Of course, he would have been appointed counsel, but it wouldn’t have been one of the fancy criminal defense lawyers his cousin was originally paying for. Bran’s sentencing could have resulted in less time served, but it also could have resulted in a much longer prison term, considering the additional charges pressed against him. So, he pled guilty.”
“I can’t believe it,” I murmur.
