𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 - JJ Maybank

Chapter 127: Conviction

A pipe dripped rhythmically in the corner. 

JJ's fingers tapped their own rhythm.

The two noises clashed, neither on beat with the other. 

His rings would occasionally clang against the metal table, harshly cutting through the muffling tension.

The mess of noise yet the absence of meaningful sound was beginning to drive Grace insane.

Hoping to tune it out, her gaze shifted to the crack of light pushing its way into the depressing room. The last hint of evening sun broke through the trees but scarcely made it through the tiny barred window nestled at the top of the cinder block wall.

"You holding up in here?"

Grace's ears perked up at JJ's voice.

The clicking countdown on their limited time to speak was ever present, yet the first couple of minutes had been silent. The sudden intrusion felt almost unwelcome if it weren't so relieving to have the first words out in the air.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced over at her husband. His hair had grown out in the months since they'd returned to the Outer Banks. It curled up around his ears in a way she knew bothered him. His skin looked uncharacteristically dull under the buzzing neon lights dangling above their heads. Worst of all, his eyes were framed by dark circles, the sparkle of mischief gone along with his flushed cheeks.

She knew she must have looked equally as drained. Split ends rife in the tips of her overgrown hair, paleness from hours spent indoors painting her a sickly white, and lips chapped from anxious biting. If he had eye bags, she had luggage.

"Not a walk in the park," Rick replied. He hadn't made eye contact with either of them since they'd sat down on opposite sides of the glass. None of them had.

"But, um, nothing I can't handle," he added after a beat.

He was putting on a brave face. Whether it was to maintain dignity or for their sake, it was hard to say.

The stiff silence returned. 

The water continued to drip.

Drip. Drip... Drip.

Grace felt like ripping her ears off.

"Your lawyer says she's getting you parole. They're just negotiating the terms," she said instead. 

It had been a struggle to get Rick out—getting someone out for felonious assault of a cop tended to be—but he had been behaving well in prison, and they had shelled out a chunk of money to hire a good lawyer.

Longing danced in the blue of his irises as JJ peered over at his wife.

"You're on the way to being a free man," he said after forcing himself to peel his gaze from the side of Grace's head.

Rick forced out a gruff chuckle. "You took care of my boat, right?"

A puff of air passed by JJ's lips, a laugh far too soft for the harsh cinderblock room they were trapped in.

His fingers began drumming against the table once more.

Drip. 

Tap. Tap.

Drip.

Tap.

Grace could tell JJ was replying, probably with something witty in a desperate attempt to break the unaddressed tension.

Her fingers ripped at the skin of her cuticles; a droplet of blood rose to the surface, pooling on her thumbnail. 

She tore her gaze from the crimson liquid, staring back up at the thick pane of glass separating them.