Page 37 of Katie 3

“She can and she probably does. She’s worked up and I can’t do a damn thing from in here,” Brad grits.

“And you need Katie on your side. You need her on the stand.”

“That’s not important at the moment. It’s important that Katie’s okay. Let her tell the truth. I’ll deal with it. But I don’t want my sweet slut thinking the worst and I guarantee she is. That’s how she is. That’s how she was when I was first with her on campus,” he says sharply. “She needs to be taken care of.”

I sigh and massage my forehead. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good luck. I gotta go. There’s a line behind me,” Brad says.

He hangs up and I end the call. Carter looks at me for a long moment. “How do we fix this, Dad?”I don’t have a clue. Too much has fallen on my shoulders for me to be able to think straight. Divorcing my wife in the second worst way possible. She never knew about me being involved with her daughter, but I have a feeling she’ll be in the audience so it’s going to come out. Moving out here and trying to curb Brad’s and my own desires for my angel. Now Brad going off the rails, Katie getting pregnant, this fucking case.

“I’ll try.”

“Give her a bit to process. She’ll figure it out.”

“She needs to eat,” Carter argues. “She’s been neglecting that unless I remind her.”

“Then try, Carter. Ignore the advice I’m giving and steamroll ahead,” I huff. “I have a case to try to win.”

Brad

It’s easy to lose track of the days. They’re regulated and regimented, filled with guys who want to ask plenty of questions or throw their weight and charges around. I keep my head down, have taken plenty of beatings. My head constantly aches and missing Katie is making anything else impossible.

“Your lawyer’s here,” an officer says, stopping in front of my solitary cell.

My dad walks in, takes one look at me, and shakes his head. “You’re not the kind of kid that wears bruises.”

I am when Katie asks me to be good. But there’s no point in saying that. Dad checks in, then takes a breath. “Dan’s not dropping the case. I can’t even speak to him, just his legal team. They think me pushing for the case to be dropped means it’s solid.”

“When?” I ask simply.

“Two days. We’ll come in and help clean you up, make you look… approachable and appeal to the jury. You pled not guilty so here we are,” he sighs.

He stares like he hasn’t slept in a week. I lean back and narrow my eyes—nearly sealing my swollen one shut. “Katie still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Us, Brad,” my dad corrects. “She accepts food and that’s it. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to hear about anything. You included.”

“Then you can’t say she’s Brandy. No favoritism here,” I sigh. “Fix things with her. That’s most important. She needs all the support she swears she doesn’t need.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Dad grits. “Any advice?”

“Own the problem. We kept it from her. We shouldn’t have. I got so swept up in her, so in love with her that I didn’t even remember Brandy. I know we were all focused on other things. It will be hard for her to hear that, but I’m sure she can understand it. She forgot all about her other options or past boyfriends with us,” I advise. “I’m fucking exhausted. Are we done?”

“Yeah. Brandy still hasn’t answered. They’re not sure if she’s even at the last address on file. With any luck, she won’t show,” he says. “Your ex-stepmother probably will.”

“Fantastic,” I snort. “Nothing can be easy.”

My dad gives me a long look that he doesn’t need to levy in my direction. I rub the back of my neck. “I know it’s my fault. You don’t have to tell me. If you fix this, if you at least keep Katie from dealing with cross examination… that’s all that matters.”

Dad doesn’t seem to agree, but I don’t care. I’ll handle prison. I’ll hate every fucking day of it, but Katie’s more important. She deserves to be comfortable and to know she’s loved even if I can only show her that from behind protective glass in small phone calls where she can see me and I can see her.

I’ve made peace with it. I just hope she can make peace with our past.

“Hopefully she doesn’t flip against you,” Dad says.

That’s an unwelcome thought. That’s she’s so hurt and worked up and angry that she’ll just throw me under the bus in two days. I close my eyes. That would hurt worse than a life sentence.

Chapter eighteen

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