“Linda, okay? She’s on the phone to Linda.”
Why would she be on the phone to her so soon? Frank’s trial was a few weeks away, and Dad’s was completely over. “Don’t freak. It’s probably nothing.”
“Then why were you trying to keep it from me?”
“Because I knew you would freak.”
Mum walked into the room clutching the phone. “You don’t have to go through it again,” she said straight away. “Frank’s changed his plea to guilty. He’s admitted everything.”
My eyed widened in surprise. I felt my mouth pop open. “Really?” Frank was pleading guilty now? “So that’s it. It’s all over?” Relief conflicted with disappointment. I wanted to stand up to him, but by him changing his plea he was admitting I was right anyway.
She grinned. “Yes, sweetheart. It’s over.”
“Good,” Jasper said. His voice was as hard as his posture. “He can rot too.”
“What happens next?” I asked.
“Linda said the judge will set a date for the sentencing. She’ll let us know.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
David stood up. “Well, this definitely calls for the other bottle now.”
“Thank goodness,” Nan said, standing to hug Mum.
I looked over at Cole, ready to tell him I was a little disappointed I wouldn’t get to look Frank in the eye when I told my side, but he looked so relieved. And that was ultimately how I knew I would come to feel. I wouldn’t have to go over what had happened with Frank again.
He’d heard what Max watched and allowed, but he hadn’t had to hear what it all felt like, how painful and sickening it was. My family and he would be spared that, at least.
“To justice and moving on,” Grandad said, raising his champagne. Everyone lifted their glass and repeated his words. I lifted my glass, but I deep in my heart I didn’t feel justice had been served. There was no sentence that could take back what either of those men did. But finally, they were going to be in a place where they could never do it again.
Chapter Twenty
Cole
Oakley had been too quiet all day. I wanted to celebrate that that bastard Frank was going down as well as Max, but she didn’t seem to want to. When I watched Max give evidence I was almost convinced that the jury believed he was innocent when it came to Oakley and that she’d stopped talking for attention or because of some condition.
She sipped on her vodka, lemonade and lime while staring down at the table.
Not for the first time, I couldn’t think of anything to say. It would be okay. It already was in the sense that they would spend a lot of time in prison, but for her it wasn’t okay. Oakley still had to live with the memories.
She looked up and gave me a small smile, her fingers gripping the necklace I’d bought her. I nodded towards the door, questioningly, and she stood up. I followed her out to the porch and wrapped my arms around her tiny body. I loved how perfectly she fit against me. She pressed her face into my shoulder and gripped hold of me.
Her hair tickled my face. “What are you thinking?”
“I don’t know.” She admitted. “Just looking forward to when I don’t have to worry about trials and sentences. I’m so tired of it all.”
“Yeah, I know. Not long now and it’ll be done. Soon there will be no more worrying about what will happen.”
Oakley laughed humourlessly. “Unless he gets a short sentence.”
“Don’t worry about that. Whatever happens he will never come near you again.”
She pulled back, frowning as she ran her finger down the side of my face. “It’s not me I’m worried about. I’ve got nothing he wants now.” I bit down hard on my lip and swallowed. Now she wasn’t a child.
I gripped her tight. No one would ever hurt her again. “Want to get out of here? I’ll let you drag me around home furnishing shops.”
“Okay.” She smiled. “Start the car for a quick getaway. I’ll let them know.”
“I feel like I’m in an action movie. We should blow something up too.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll get right on that.”
I started the car and seconds later she got in. That was quick. “To the boring shops,” I muttered. At least it would take her mind off everything.
“Whichever one you want,” I whined. What the hell did it matter what coffee table I got anyway? It would just end up cluttered with video games and empty bottles of beer…
Oakley turned to me and sighed, exasperated. “Cole, just choose a fucking coffee table.” My mouth dropped open. I could count on one hand the amount of times I had heard Oakley swear. It was so alien but weirdly sexy. “I’m serious,” she said threateningly: “Pick one.”
Blinking, I pointed to the table we were standing by. She’d picked out four that were the same wood as the window and door frames, but it was my job to choose which I preferred.