He squeezed his eyes closed again, as if he couldn’t bear to hear anymore.
“The purpose of me telling you all this isn’t to berate or hurt you. But you said weeks ago that I had to learn to trust the father of my child.” I took a step toward him. “I know you, Jack. I know you spent years of your life miserable to protect your sister. That you abandoned me to protect your mom. That you, as wrong as it was, pushed Cooper away to protect him too. You’ve sacrificed so much for other people, and I think you are honorable and true. I think my baby is lucky to have you as a father.”
When he opened his eyes, they blazed fiercely with feeling.
“Trusting you as a father, as a friend, is something completely different from trusting you as a lover,” I finished softly. “And there’s just too much hurt between us in that respect.”
Jack quickly looked at the floor.
I watched him swallow hard.
After what seemed like minutes of agonizing silence, he finally cleared his throat and stood. When he met my gaze, I was relieved to see he didn’t look angry. Or hurt. There was understanding there. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I get it now.”
I relaxed. “Okay. I’m glad.”
“You’re still my best friend,” he said, the words a little hoarse. “Even if I’m not yours.”
Emotion choked me. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m going to head to work.” He moved around the coffee table and stopped by my side. “Will we drive to the trial together?”
More relief moved through me. “Absolutely.”
Then my breath stuttered as Jack’s head dipped and he pressed a soft but electrifying kiss to the corner of my mouth. “See you tomorrow,” he said casually as he pulled back. “Call me if you need me.”
“I will,” I pushed out, watching him leave.
The corner of my mouth still tingled hours later.
34
Emery
There were parts of the day in court that I couldn’t remember, mostly because my focus had been solely on Jack. I watched him constantly. When he moved to take the stand, it was the only time my attention drifted to his father. Ian sat on the other side of the courtroom, at the front with his attorney and Kerr. Father and son were being tried together since Kerr was intrinsically tied up in the crimes, and surprisingly he hadn’t let his father take the blame by accepting a plea bargain.
I could only see Ian’s profile. But his jaw was tight and his skin pale. His eyes narrowed as Jack took the stand.
Holding my breath, I relaxed a little when I realized the prosecution would question Jack first. Jack answered their inquiries, confirming evidence he’d provided to the prosecution, that he’d witnessed and been party to his father’s blackmailing and racketeering. They got into individual examples and my stomach twisted as I listened to the awful things Jack had knowledge of. Knowing him, it must’ve been eating away at him for years.
The prosecution asked Jack why he’d worked for his father, and Jack replied that his father was abusive toward his mother and sister and it was made clear that his loyalty and obedience would save them from that abuse.
Jack had warned me this would be his answer. That his mother and Rebecca had discussed it and they’d agreed to be deposed, backing his claims. The prosecutor mentioned this, handing over Rosalie’s and Rebecca’s written statements.
My stomach churned for Jack when the defense attorney stood. I knew the state provided this attorney, but that didn’t mean he might not be an excellent litigator. As he interrogated Jack, trying to insinuate that Jack had a lot more to do with the racketeering charges than he claimed, my skin flushed with indignation. The urge to jump to Jack’s defense was real, even more so when the defense moved on to Jack’s claims that he was protecting his mother and sister.
“Other than this written statement, we have no other evidence that these claims of abuse are true. No hospital records, no police reports. And frankly, a written statement from a young woman facing charges for aiding and abetting a murder is hardly reliable. Isn’t it true, Mr. Devlin, that you are lying about your father abusing your mother and sister to cover up the fact that you were a willing partner in your father’s business ventures? That you were the one who convinced your father to take more unlawful steps forward in the business?”
I guffawed in outrage as the prosecutor called, “Objection! Leading the witness. And might I remind the court that Mr. Jack Devlin has been cleared of all charges and he’s not the one on trial here.”
The judge nodded. “Sustained.”
The defense gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Let me rephrase. Mr. Devlin, are you lying about your father abusing your mother and sister?”
Expression hard as flint, Jack’s gaze moved toward Ian. The loathing was difficult to miss. “No. I’m not lying. Ian Devlin mentally, emotionally, and physically abused my mother and sister for years. I did what I could to protect them. As you can see, neither of them is here today because they can’t stand to be in the same room as Ian.”
The court rang with that truth.
The defense attorney quickly changed tact and began trying to trip Jack up on specific incidents of racketeering and blackmail he’d recorded in his witness statements. Jack remained stoic and unflappable. But I wished I could be up there, holding his hand.