The Aftermath (The Hurricane, #2)

“I want Frank to know I’m not scared of him anymore and that I’m not alone. He might get away with what he did but I’ve cried the last tear I’m going to cry over what happened. I have a wonderful life ahead of me, and I want to live it. So let’s go to court and show them that we’re not afraid, get this thing over with, and get on with our lives.”


“It can’t possibly be that easy, love,” I cautioned her.

“It won’t be. Of course it won’t be. I have waking nightmares every day when a smell or a sound brings back what happened but you told me once that the good stuff takes up room, so we have to let the bad stuff out to make that happen. That’s what the therapy is for. But for now, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

“That sounds like another one of them famous quotes,” I said.

“Franklin D. Roosevelt in his presidential inauguration speech.”

“You are wicked smart, you know?” I told her. “I love that you want to be strong and move on from this, I really do. I mean, watching you cry over what this guy did kills me a little bit more each time I see it. But I don’t think I can let it go that easily. I didn’t protect you once, despite my promises, and when he’s released I feel like I’d be letting you down a second time.”

“You have to try, O’Connell, or he’s not only ruined my past. He’s ruined my future as well.” That was never going to happen. I would take care of that for her, and she’d never have to be afraid of anything else ever again.

We turned up for court at nine, but deliberation took much longer than any of us thought. When the steps became too cold, we moved to the benches in the lobby outside the courtrooms. Eventually, when I didn’t think I could wait much longer, the clerk came out of the dark, heavy oak door and told us that a verdict had been reached. We filed silently into the courtroom one by one, with Em sitting in the middle of us.

Without prompting, Danny and I, who were seated either side of her, held each of her hands tightly. Em’s mum, who was already seated on the other side of the courtroom, had turned to face us when we filed in. For a brief moment, she caught Em’s eye, but Sunshine quickly turned her face away. She was done, and by the wave of regret that washed over her mother’s face, her mum knew it too. Like I said before, fuck the bitch.

She turned to watch as Frank was brought up from the cells in cuffs; we all did. The bastard had the brass balls to wink at Em as he was led to his seat, and I wanted to vault over the barrier and remove his kidney. Maybe removing it was ambitious but I was pretty sure I could render it useless for the rest of the cock’s miserable life with one good punch.

Sunshine filled me with pride. In a gesture completely unlike her, she lifted her hand and gave him the finger. Frank frowned angrily. This wasn’t the same girl he left bleeding on the floor. The courtroom went silent as the judge left his chambers and the clerk said, “All rise.” We stood, then sat again as the judge was seated. The clerk moved over to Frank. “The defendant will stand,” he called out, and Frank stood up smugly.

“Members of the jury, will your foremen please stand,” the clerk said, and an older guy rose from the jury. He had a kind look about him, and I closed my eyes, hoping this guy could deliver me a miracle. Hoping that he would deliver me justice.

“Have you reached a verdict upon which you are all agreed?” he asked, and the man replied, “We have.”

“Do you find the defendant Frank Stephen Thomas guilty or not guilty of the charge of rape?” There was the slight pause and then the deep baritone voice sounded clearly across the courtroom. “Not guilty.”

“And in the charges of kidnapping and assault with the intent to kill, do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?” The pause didn’t seem as long this time because I knew what was coming. “Not guilty.”

“Is this the verdict of you all?” the clerk asked.

“It is,” the guy replied. The man who I thought looked kind only a minute ago, now looked like any other fat, middle-aged fuck, judging my girl’s word over that rapist and finding her the liar.

“Mr. Thomas,” the judge called out clearly, “you are free to go.”

“All rise,” the clerk called out, and the judge had already fucked off for his afternoon game of golf before anyone realized that Em and I still sat in our seats. I looked over to see the bailiff unlocking Frank’s cuffs, and Em’s mum looking down into her lap. I hope the bitch was fucking petrified at taking Frank back. She’d brought this on herself. On all of us.

“What now?” I asked Em. I didn’t know whether to hold her close or carry out my plan of putting one of Frank’s kidneys out of commission. I wanted to do both.

“No hugging or commiserating,” she told us all. “I don’t want to give Frank the satisfaction.”

“Let’s just go back to the gym.”

“You don’t want to go straight home?” I asked her.

R.J. Prescott's books