Retribution

Chapter 26 - And the Judge Says...

It was now Wednesday and I was currently sat inside the judges' chambers of the local court house. After Monday, Harry pulled some strings and got us a hearing almost a week earlier than we would have had.

Adam sat across the mahogany table from me. He flashed me an arrogant grin and leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head.

The judge, Mr Mark Kenney, was a late middle-aged man with thinning brown hair, silver glasses perched on the end of his nose, and a frail frame. His whole persona was sullen, serious, and unforgiving. He'd been looking through the case details for over fifteen minutes now whilst making various 'hum' and 'aha' noises.

"Miss Simmons," he said, taking his glasses off and strategically laying them down on the papers. "If I continue to uphold this non-molestation order, it's going to become rather tricky where it concerns your son and Mr Wilson's visitations. It can cause a very grey area where harassment and access to a child are blurred into the same thing. Do you understand my point?"

My mouth ran dry. His beady brown eyes settled on my reddening cheeks. "Yes, I understand, Judge. I just needed to know I was safe until we could get a full hearing."

"Very sensible idea, but then again, you do have one of the best lawyers money can buy." He picked his glasses up and perched them back on the end of his nose. Shuffling through the papers, he settled on the pictures of Adam's latest handiwork. "You may remove that smile from your face, Mr Wilson, and sit with a formal posture in my court." He pushed the photos of me across the table to Adam. "Do you have anything to say for yourself with regards to these horrific injuries you inflicted on your ex fiancée?"

Adam sat up properly, his hands now under the table. Though his eyes were clouding over with distaste, he obviously knew better than to push limits here. "No."

"Not even sorry?"

"Sorry," he said, through gritted teeth. "Won't happen again."

The judge spared him a look of disgust. "Right, in the interests of ridding you from my court, my decision is to deny the continuation of the non-molestation order."

A snigger from across the table boiled the blood in my veins.

"However," Judge continued, speaking over the top of Adam's gleeful noise. "An occupation order will be in place with a power of arrest attached to it. Mr Wilson, this means that at no point can you be within one mile of the residence which is named on these papers. If you breach that, you can, and will be immediately arrested and presented back before this court. This order is in place for six months, at which point it will be reviewed again. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Adam said, narrowing his eyes at me. "I can't go anywhere near the house which is half mine."

The Judge retrieved my photos and started reorganising the papers inside the case file. "Perhaps, Mr Wilson, that will be something to think about before you fly into a fit of rage again." He finished with the blue folder, closed it, and placed his glasses on top. "On a personal note, Mr Wilson, if you wish to resume a relationship with Miss Simmons, I don't think beating her to a pulp is the answer. Perhaps some chocolates and flowers may do the trick." He stood up. "You are excused."

I all but ran from the court room. A giant wave of relief flooded me as if I'd just been showered with a bucket of cold water. Finally, I had an official safety net around me and the house.

Before I could round the corner to where Marco was waiting, a familiar hand clamped down on my shoulder.

"If you think a piece of paper is going to keep me away, think again."

I whirled around to see Adam's face growing darker and more menacing by the second. "Get your hands off me." I jerked my shoulder out from under his hand. "You forced me to this, Adam. No one else."

He laughed, all but a sinister cackle. "Don't think for a second that I'm not two steps ahead of you already. I'll be in touch about Harvey."

"Ah, yes, about Harvey. Stop filling his head with shit, Adam. He's confused and upset enough as it is. Telling him garbage like I don't love him is not helping matters."

"He asked questions, Lou Lou, and I answered them to the best of my knowledge. The only reason he's upset and confused is because of you. Because you asked me to leave our home. So, before you get up on your high horse, giving me all the morals and whatever else, just remember this is on you."

He barged past me, knocking into me. My stance was firm though and I didn't move like he'd presumed I would.

"You're a weedy, pathetic excuse of a human being," I said, almost hissing at him. "You're not even worthy of being called a boy because even boys treat girls better. Accept some responsibility for what you've done to me, or so help me God, I'll bring your world crashing down around your ears."

"I'd like to see you try, baby." He kissed the air and grinned. "Bring it on. Before the end of the year, I'll be back in that house and you'll be my wife. You mark my words."

"Do you get off on this? Forcing me into marriage? Would you give up if I stopped fighting?"

He faltered, hesitation swimming across his face. "Like I said, I'll be in touch."

I gave him a minute or two after stomping off before I followed. He didn't know why he was doing this. It was just the only way he knew to get what he wanted—to be violent. A tiny bit of sadness crept in, making me pity him.

No, Louisa. This is why you always ended up back there. You can't change him, nor save him.

Marco smiled when he saw me. His sullen composure started to melt away like a morning frost under a summer sun.

"I presume from the way Mr Wilson marched out of the courthouse that things did not go his way?"

I grinned. "No, Marco. No, they definitely did not."

Using his bulky frame to push through the crowded waiting room, he led us outside. "Mr Murphy will be very happy, Miss Simmons."

"Marco, please just call me Louisa. Please?"

He pulled his lips into a thin line. "May I speak on a personal level please, Miss Simmons?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you stop calling me that, yes."

"I've known Jake for a long time," he said, his deep voice sounding octaves different now he was relaxed. "Working the position that I do, I am privy to a lot of things even close family don't know, or see. I spend a lot of time in silence, as you noticed, which gives me the privilege of observing people. I've never seen Jake around a woman like he is with you. He was very reserved with Gina, didn't tell her much about himself, nor showed her any affection. With you, he seems to want the world to know how fond of you he is."

I was stunned. Where did that all come from? "Why are you telling me this, Marco?"

He scanned around us, making sure no one saw his professional façade slip. "Because I can see your doubts and fears, and I would hate for you to push him away because of them. He's everything he says he is and more. He never spared his men for Gina. Let's leave it at that."

As if someone had flipped a switch, he went right back to his robotic, pleasant voice, addressing me as Miss Simmons still. He drove me over to Charlie's as we'd arranged to go riding most days whilst I was off work. I couldn't help but repeat his words over and over in my mind. The more I thought about them, the bigger my grin became.