Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Is that neck brace a joke?” Dylan sniped entirely too loudly. I was sure Jeff heard her almost as much as I was sure that was the point.
Lucille crossed and uncrossed her legs. “That man is a joke. If we can call him a man at all.”
“Hey, keep it down,” Marcus scolded. “When the judge gets in here, I don’t want to hear a word no matter what he says or does. Judge Clavet is no nonsense, and from what I’ve heard, he is not happy about Jeff pulling strings to get this in front of him so quickly. We are presenting a calm and supportive collective front. Do not give him a reason to believe there may be some truth to the accusations about Gwen’s parenting.”
The three of them immediately clamped their mouths shut.
I sagged in my chair. How was this happening? My parenting? Really? Jeff had done nothing when Nate was a baby. He was always busy at work or social engagements, trying to level up his career. He hadn’t worried about “my parenting” then. It wasn’t until Nate was around four and went from being a baby to take care of to a little person to have fun with that Jeff decided to be an active dad. I didn’t always agree with his parenting style, but I’d never wanted to take Nate away from him.
“Ho. Lee. Shit,” Lucille breathed, catching my attention.
I followed her gaze to the courtroom doors. Truett walked through the doors like it was a high fashion runway wearing a navy-blue double-breasted suit that fit him like the world’s sexiest glove.
His chin held high.
His shoulders resolute.
A confidence so thick it cloaked the air around him.
He was flanked by five men. I recognized Daniel at his left, but not the others. The two behind them were in military dress uniforms, and a pair of police officers pulled up the rear.
It looked like a parade, but as hope surged inside me, it felt like the answer to my prayers.
Truett West was back.
And there was nothing he wouldn’t do to protect his family.
“Hey,” he whispered, leaning over the partition to kiss the top of my head.
“Who are all these people?” I asked.
He winked. “Reinforcements.”
“All rise,” the bailiff called out, silencing the conversation.
A bald man with a thick gray beard in a black robe took his place behind the bench. We were seated, and then he began a myriad of formalities, including reading Jeff’s emergency motion aloud. When he was satisfied he’d checked all the required legal boxes, he set the paperwork down, took his glasses off, and leaned back in his chair.
“Mr. Weaver, I’ve reviewed the evidence you have provided to support your claims today, though I still find myself with quite a few questions about your allegations against Mr. West and the perceived danger to your son.”
Jeff stood up, holding his neck as if his head might topple off without the brace. “Yes, Your Honor. I’m happy to answer any questions the court may have about—”
“I’d like to speak to Mr. West. If that is okay with you, Ms. Weaver.”
Jeff went solid and my heart lurched into my throat. I mentally gagged when he called me Ms. Weaver and swore right then and there that, before I left the courthouse, I’d get the required paperwork to legally change my name.
Unsure how to properly address the judge, I stood with shaking legs. “Um, yes, sir.”
When he smiled, he looked like Santa Claus. “No need to be nervous. Nobody’s on trial here. We all just want to figure out what’s best for your son.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Okay, then. Mr. West, thank you for coming today. Do you mind if we have a quick talk?”
Truett stood up behind me, but it was Marcus who spoke first.
“Your Honor, before we proceed any further, I’d like to point out that there is a member of the media in the courtroom with us today. The man seated behind Mr. Weaver is Taggart Folly, a producer with Flat Line Productions who has been harassing my client in an attempt to gain her participation in a documentary he is filming on the tragedy at The Watersedge Mall. My client and Mr. West lost their daughter that day. Due to the sensitivity of this matter and Mr. West’s hopes to speak freely without it being documented for entertainment purposes, we ask that Mr. Folly be removed from the court.”
Folly had the audacity to look offended.
Jeff scowled before slapping on the fake confidence that made him such a successful attorney. “I assure you Mr. Folly is not here as a member of the media today. He was a witness the day I was assaulted by Truett West.”
The judge arched his brow. “From inside the building? Because I watched the video you submitted and there was no sound and the sun was reflecting off the windows, making it next to impossible to make out who’s who. The only thing I could tell for sure was that there was a scuffle inside, and then Mr. West was led out in cuffs. He was released later in the day with nothing more than a trespass notice. I believe I’ve already seen everything he can add to this case. Mr. Folly, please see yourself out of the courtroom.”