Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Tears threaten, and my nose burns with the intensity it takes to hold them back. Josie reaches up and wipes my face, and I take that as confirmation that one has escaped.
“Come on, honey. Let’s go down to the station. You’re going to need to give an official statement, and Ben’s going to need his truck.”
I suck my lips into my mouth, and Josie squeezes my hand before putting her keys in it. “Drive my car, Nore. Just follow me.”
I manage a nod before turning to unlock her SUV and climb inside. My head is nothing but fog as I start the car and pull out of the space, following Bennett’s truck through the square, to the other side of town, and down two blocks to the police station. I’m barely aware as we walk inside and get escorted by a deputy, and I can hardly see my own two feet as Josie guides me inside the sheriff’s personal office.
Sheriff Peeler sits across from us in his desk chair, and it’s all I can do not to start shaking all over. The police station is small, and his office is even smaller—a tiny square box filled with a metal desk, a few chairs, an unhealthy amount of bright, fluorescent tube lighting, and loads of papers and files scattered about on shelves and cabinets. Still, it’s all very official, making the seriousness of the situation painfully obvious.
I try to focus on Sheriff Pete as he talks, but it’s hard. I’ve never been as scared as I was today.
“Lee is confident the assault charges Thomas King wants to put on Bennett Bishop will be dropped on account of self-defense, and he’ll be able to use him as a witness in your case. He wants to criminally charge Thomas King with domestic violence, so you’ll—”
“Wait…” I stop him before he can explain further. “Who is Lee?”
“Lee is the county prosecutor,” Sheriff Peeler elucidates. “Real good buddy of mine and a good man. You’ll like him.”
“He wants to criminally charge Thomas?”
“Yes, Miss Norah.” The sheriff nods. “Lee has enough evidence for the case to proceed and take this to court. But he’d need you as a witness and for you to be willing to press charges.”
Take this to court? My brain feels like it’s going to explode. How did I wake up this morning thinking the worst part of my day was going to involve being a barista and end the day talking about pressing charges?
I stare down at my hands, pointedly avoiding the fresh bruise on my arm and try to make sense of the situation. I came to Red Bridge to move on, to put the past in the past and never see Thomas again—not to end up facing him in court, of all places, for probably days or weeks on end.
My chest burns with discomfort, and it’s moments like this I wish my mom weren’t an evil roach so I could go to her for comfort.
Josie sits beside me and reaches out with a soothing hand to place it on my knee. “Do you want to press charges?”
“I…” I pause because my voice is all shaky and weird, and it sounds nothing like me. I clear my throat. “I don’t…I don’t know.”
Sheriff Peeler’s office grows silent while they wait for me to decide. But I don’t know what I should do. I don’t want Bennett to face charges for stepping in to protect me when he could very well have left me to deal with it on my own—in which case, God knows what would have happened—but I don’t want to go to court either.
“Pete, do you mind giving us a minute?” Josie asks, and the sheriff gets up from his desk chair without hesitation.
“Take all the time you need.”
His door shuts with a soft click, confirming he’s gone, and yet I still can’t bring myself to look up from my feet.
“Norah, are you okay?” It’s the first question Josie asks me and the last question I expect. Her eyes are reassuring and so, so patient. It’s the opposite of the sister who almost told me to get the hell off her front porch three days ago.
“Honestly? I don’t know what I am right now.”
“Do you think you can tell me what’s really going on?” She squeezes my knee again. “Because I want to help you, but I’m really in the dark here. Why did Thomas show up here in the first place?”
I let out a deep exhale. “It’s a big mess.”
“Well, obviously,” she says through a soft laugh that ends up making me snort.
Yeah. A big, fat fucking mess. Apparently, I didn’t realize just how ugly of a person Thomas could be.
I look up to meet her eyes again, and the softness that sits within their green depths only makes the burning sensation in my chest grow more intense. Josie was more of a mom to me and Jezzy than Eleanor ever was, I’m reminded. Back then, I just didn’t understand it.