Page 109 of Malaise

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Page 109 of Malaise

Jon simply smiles.

I cease to breathe.

“Brett Carver. As you are now aware, a statement has been given to the police regarding your whereabouts on the night in question. Through thorough questioning, it has been proven beyond reasonable doubt that you in fact have an alibi for your whereabouts between the hours of 4:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m. on Thursday the eighteenth of November.” He reaches over and grabs his gavel, holding it aloft as he states the next part. “The charge of breaking and entering and the charge of theft have been dropped against you. However, the charge of assault on an officer still stands. As this is your first offence of such nature, I have decided to give you a suspended sentence of twelve months, and order you to pay court costs as assigned by the court officer.” He slams the gavel down, such a sweet sound that echoes off the walls of the courtroom. “You are free to go.”

Tanya jiggles in her seat beside me. “Yay, Brett!”

“Shush, woman.” Jon leans across me to try and contain her.

I keep my gaze firmly on Carver throughout the exchange, watching as his shoulders sag with relief, as his head tips back and his lips move in silent thanks. The prison officer guides him toward the door he entered through, and I stay rooted to my spot, hands tightly gripping the back of the vacant seat in front of me. He turns, the same way he did at his preliminary hearing, and looks back at me over his shoulder.

I could cry.

His smile is the widest I’ve ever seen, showing teeth and all. But what has me laughing hysterically is the suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows as he’s led from view.

“Where are they taking him?” I ask Tanya now she’s regained control of herself. “He’s free, right? As in he can go now?”

“Yeah, of course. But they have to get him to sign paperwork, and change into his own clothes and stuff. We’ll meet him out back.” She starts toward the exit aisle. “Come on.”

Jon rests his hand gently in the small of my back to urge me forward. “Follow the mad wench, would you? Your boy will be happy to see you.”

I wait in the aisle for him as he wedges his stocky frame past a couple of older women. He jerks his head toward the lobby, and falls into step beside me.

“What did those papers say?” I’m positive he knows the answer. The clues, his little hints, he knew this was going to happen.

He did this.

“Said that the boy was playing pool in the garage with me when the break-in occurred.”

I stop walking when we reach the lobby, causing him to do so also, and throw my arms around the bastard. He might be one cold-hearted, callous son of a bitch at the best of times, but he’s just proven that beneath it all his heart still beats red.

“Hey now.” He awkwardly pats me on the back. “Settle down.”

“Thank you. So, so much.” I pull back. “What made you change your mind?”

He slips an arm around my shoulders and leads us to where Tanya wiggles impatiently at the front doors. “I bumped into someone a few days ago.”

“Who?”

“Your dad.”

He lets me slip out from under his arm so I can face him properly, read his expressions. “What did he say to you?”

“Told me that my kid was to blame for his little girl fucking up her life. Said he’d ruin what was left of me, make sure I ended up in the ground with my wife, where I belonged.”

“I can’t believe he did that,” I mutter. “What did you say back?”

“Nothing.” He flexes his right hand as Tanya leads us out the automatic doors toward the left of the courthouse, and I only now notice the bruising on his knuckles.

“You didn’t.”

“He deserved it, love. Right cunt is your old man, Meg. He thought it would be a good idea to lay into Tanya next, telling me about the little conversation you girls had with him and what he thought of my beautiful daughter.” He chuckles as we make our way down the service alley. “I thought it might be best to walk away before he realised why it is you don’t mess with white-trash families.”

I hang my head, ashamed on behalf of Dad. “So you gave Brett an alibi to get back at him?”

“He wasn’t going to do it. And as much as a right mongrel you know I can be, Meg, I don’t think it’s right that a dad treats his little girl like he has done to you. Especially after losing his only son. A man’s got to draw the line with his morals, and that’s where mine lies.”

“Thank you.” I choose to say only that in case any more sentiment makes him uncomfortable. It appears to be all he expected, as he widens his stance and crosses his hands in front of him with a smile while we wait.




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