Crew (Hockey Royalty #3)

26. Liv

Chapter 26

Liv

I hope that the waterproof mascara and concealer I applied works. I really do not want my makeup sliding off my face if I cry today. Everyone will see the bags under my eyes from the sleepless night I just spent tossing in my bed. Now I'm not just worried about facing my attacker, I'm worried about losing my boyfriend. I sigh, take one more look in the mirror, and turn and leave my room.

The trial is supposed to start at nine-thirty. It's barely six thirty as I grab my purse, a jacket, and a good book and leave my apartment. The courthouse is in Santa Monica and the fact is with Los Angeles traffic it might take me over an hour to get there. I’m giving myself three because I can’t sleep and I am so anxious I would rather sit there, in the courthouse parking lot, and wait than lie in my bed staring at the ceiling. Tenley offered to go with me, but I refused. Tate offered too. So did Mallory. I'm a little shocked that one, or all, of them, haven't ignored my wishes and shown up to go with me anyway. That’s how my family works.

But then I turn the corner of our building to the long row of parking spots tucked under one side of the building and I know exactly why they kept to my wishes. Because my mom is leaning against the hood of the car I share with Tenley, two coffees in her hands.

She puts the coffees down on the car and gives me a smile. "You can totally do this alone. I know that. But you don't have to and that's a luxury I didn't have at your age. From a very young age, I had to be strong because I didn’t have parents. I promised myself when I had babies they would never have to be strong all alone. They could be strong, and they would be strong, but never alone. So I’m here. I’m sorry.”

I lose sight of her through my tears of relief. “Don’t be sorry. I love you. I need you.”

She rushes to me and wraps her arms around me and I cry into her shoulder like I used to do when I was little and I’d skinned a knee or had my feelings hurt by the class bully. Her hands smooth the back of my hair. “You do not need me, but I got you baby. I will always have you.”

“I just talked to you and Dad, in Maine, yesterday afternoon.” I sniff my voice trembling. “I even made sure the flights weren’t available. How did you get here?”

She holds me tighter. “I’m Callie Caplan-Garrison and nobody stops me. Your brother’s team was starting their west coast road trip last night so I hitched a ride to San Francisco and then rented a car and here I am.”

“I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Your dad is here too. He’s at our hotel in Santa Monica. One text and he’ll join us at the courthouse, but he didn’t want to overwhelm you. And he knew there are some things a mama bear can handle.” She kisses my forehead and wipes away my tears.

“You can handle anything. You’re Callie Caplan-Garrison,” I smile through my blubbering. “I really want to be like you, Mom.”

"Oh, Olivia." Tears fill her eyes, but she blinks them away. "You are better and more than I could ever hope to be. Now let's get going. I'll drive. Grab your coffee. I have some makeup in my bag so you can touch it up on the way there."

At the beginning of the car ride, I just hold my mom's hand and spill my guts about this attack. She listens quietly, which is odd because my mother is never quiet. When I'm done with the details and all the ugly feelings I had to deal with she lets out a hard breath. "I am so upset I wasn't there for you, Liv."

“I needed to process it on my own,” I explain. “I don’t regret that part. I also don’t regret finally taking everyone’s advice and seeing a therapist.”

“Everyone?”

“Tenley. Tate. Mallory. Crew. He’s the one that finally convinced me,” I explain and my stomach swirls with anxiety over my relationship but I push it down. “He told me he wouldn’t have made it through his divorce without therapy. What he said made me understand that what I went through, no matter how quick and thankfully without lasting consequences, was still traumatic. It was strong to ask for help, not weak."

“But you still didn’t apply that to your parents.”

“I told you. That was the first step.”

“Well remind me to thank Crew when I see him. How is your boyfriend?” Mom asks and there’s excitement in her voice.

“Can we talk about that later?” I ask as I start digging in her bag for some concealer to fix my makeup.

“Umm… okay but that sounds bad.”

We’re settled in the courthouse parking lot an hour later and the place isn’t even opened yet so Mom asks about Crew again. “Remember I’m the cool mom you can tell me anything. If it’s a sex problem, I bet I can help you solve it. An emotional one? I’ve got you covered there too. Your dad and I did not have an easy start. He was married before me too, remember?”

Right. I often forget that because we’re such a well-blended family. I never call Conner my half-brother. He’s just my brother, full-stop. “Crew doesn’t trust women. That’s what he said when we first started dating. And I thought it was a red flag but I… I was crushing too hard to see straight.”

“Good D will do that to you.”

“Mother!” I let out an exasperated sigh. She grins guiltily and then pretends to zip her lips closed. “And we turned this thing between us into more than a one-night stand. And he encouraged me to open up, about the attack and everything and I felt like I was obviously different. I wasn’t a woman he didn’t trust. Except last night… I found out that he hasn’t told me about a very big part of who he is. And his past.”

Mom nods and stares out the window. “Is it something that changes how you feel about him?”

“No.”

“Is it something illegal? Would it get him arrested? Would it put you or others in danger?”

“No.”

She turns and looks at me, a soft smile crinkling the corners of her eyes that are so similar to mine. “I know you’re new to this in a lot of ways, like the sex way.”

“Mom, stop.”

"But Crew is new to this in some ways too. He was with his ex for a long time. He's never dated divorced. He's probably got scars. This trust thing is valid." She pats my hand. "But two things can be true at once. His feelings can be valid and so can yours, even if they don't match up. If you really feel this is a hurdle you can't get past, then don't get past it. You are young Livvy. You are smart and brave and strong and drop-dead gorgeous. You deserve everything you want from life and from men. Leave him. There’ll be someone else.”

I yank my head back and glare at her. She’s still smiling sweetly at me, her face a mask of innocence. “Just like that? Just… what? Dump him? Because of a hiccup? Gee, Mom, I thought you understood that there were bumps in the road. I mean Dad didn’t give up on you and Uncle Big Bird says you were a total disaster when you and Dad started dating.”

Mom laughs. "Oh my God, I expected this reaction but I didn't think you'd hit below the belt. Uncle Big Bird? Are you siding with him? I could list you all the chances he had to beg your Auntie Jessie for but we'd miss this court date and be here in this parking lot all week."

“See, Jessie gave Jordan a bunch of chances and they’re happy,” I argue. “But you’re telling me to just walk out on the first truly happy, intimate experience I’ve ever had without even letting Crew have a chance to make it right?”

"Yes, I'm saying that, so you'll realize how stupid it would be, freak out on me, and follow your heart on this. Because you already know what it wants.” She squeezes my hand again and winks.

“Reverse psychology.”

“And you fell for it so quickly!” Mom looks mighty proud of herself.

I see the guards opening up the courthouse and I feel a quiver of panic slide down my spine. “We should go inside.”

We both get out of the car and walk toward the building slowly. She holds my hand the whole way. We pass through security and walk down the hall until we find the courtroom number I was given by the District Attorney. We’re told to sit on one of the long wooden benches in the hall and wait until the court opens so we do.

It's a long painful wait and I am fighting a losing battle with my anxiety. Finally, the courtroom opens and we file in, but before we can sit down someone calls my name. "Olivia Garrison?" A thin man with a narrow face and tired eyes wearing a brown suit extends his hand. "I'm Milo Suzuki, the state prosecutor for this case. We've had a development I wanted to discuss with you."

“Oh… okay.” I swallow. “Can my mom come with me?”

“Of course.” He motions for us to slip out of the aisle and we follow him down the hall to a small room with a bleak conference table and no windows. I feel like I'm having an out-of-body experience as he explains that my attacker has opted for a plea deal.

“He’ll get sixteen months, and then two years’ probation. He’ll also have mandatory psychiatric counseling and will enter a substance abuse program while serving his time,” he explains, looking proud of himself.

I get it. This is a win for an overworked public defender. But to me, it's not that clear-cut. I want him locked up and the key flushed down the toilet. Mom shakes her head. "Did he tell you why he did this to my daughter? Do we at least get that?"

Mr. Suzuki shrugs. "He's an addict. Painkillers. He was looking for money for a fix. Or for some drugs himself. College kids are often on medication of some sort. And your daughter is tiny and was walking alone. He hasn't said all this, verbatim, but it's been implied. He has a history of petty theft and nothing else so it fits.”

“And his likelihood of reoffending?”

“High.”

“If he comes after my daughter…”

“He won’t be doing that. He won’t even remember her name. He probably doesn’t now,” Mr. Suzuki says, and I hope he’s right. “So now you can face him in court and give an impact statement, but his sentence is already fixed. It won’t sway a judge or a jury but some victims like to do it to get closure. We welcome that.”

“I just want to go home,” I say. “I don’t need to prove anything to him, or you, or myself. I just want to forget this man the way he is hopefully forgetting me.”

“Well, he won’t entirely forget you,” Mr. Suzuki says. “His nose never set right after you broke it. He’ll have a bump on it that will be a gentle reminder that he picked the wrong woman.”

My mom smiles proudly at that. I hook my thumb in her direction. “I get that from her.”

We say goodbye to Mr. Suzuki and head back out into the hallway. Now I’m face-to-face with the couple who intervened. They’re sitting on the bench where I had been earlier. Their eyes light up when they see me and they smile. My mom drops her arm from my shoulders and rushes to them. “I’m her mom, Callie, I can’t ever express my gratitude for what you did to help my baby.”

She hugs them both in one giant sweep of her arms. They smile and hug her back and Mrs. Jackson reaches out and rubs my arm. “Are you holding up okay honey?”

“I am. He copped a plea deal.”

"We heard. I'm sorry. I wanted the rat bastard in jail for a century," Mr. Jackson says and frowns.

“We got your card,” Mrs. Jackson says to me. “It was a very sweet gesture and the flowers were too.”

“The least I could do. If you hadn’t helped me, I don’t know what would have happened next,” I tell her.

“We did the right thing. Nothing more,” Mr. Jackson says. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad this is over.”

“Us too,” my mom says.

Mrs. Jackson smiles at me. “Maybe we will see you at a Quake game?”

“Quake?” I never told them I was related to a player. Do they know Tate is on the team? Did Google tell them or something?

“Your boyfriend has kindly offered us tickets,” Mr. Jackson says, his dark eyes swirling with excitement. “Our grandson is a huge fan and he said we could take him and even meet the team after the game. It’s such a generous offer.”

“My boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Jackson motions with a tilt of her head and my eyes drift down the hallway.

Crew is sitting on the last bench, leaning forward, fingers tented between his open knees. I hug Mr. and Mrs. Jackson goodbye and leave my mother to say her goodbyes, and probably thank them another hundred times, and make my way to Crew.

He stands as I get closer. “I know you said you could do this alone. And I know you can, but I needed to be here. I’m sorry.”

“You needed to be here in case I couldn’t handle it by myself?” I ask.

He looks at me for a very long minute, speechless, just watching me in a way that is breathtaking. Like he’s drinking me in. “No Olivia I needed to be here to watch you do it. You are a fucking inspiration and you don’t even know it.”

He reaches up and cups the side of my face. Shivers spiral down my spine. He tilts his head, and his lips turn up in a soft smile. "I needed to see you be this strong, authentic person who faces her fears head-on so I could remind myself how fucking lucky I am. And scare myself into letting go of the garbage I've gone through before it takes you away from me too."

He kisses me. It’s gentle and soft and demure because we are both highly aware of where we are. But the emotions running through us are deep and so real they take my breath away.

“I’ll meet you outside Liv.” Mom’s voice breaks us apart. Her eyes go to Crew. “You’re a lucky man.”

“I am.”

She smiles at him and continues down the hall to the exit.

“How are you even here?” I ask as he slings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me into his side. We start toward the exit too. “You’re supposed to be on your way to Vancouver.”

“I have to be on a flight in two hours,” he admits. “Coach made it happen for me though, when I explained why I needed to be here.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he replies and stops walking. I turn toward him, the sun kissing both our faces. “For not just dumping my ass.”

“I see potential. I’m not ready to let go,” I say and wink at him, which makes his eyes go dark because Crew is turned on when I get sassy.

I lean into him, pressing our foreheads together. He cups my face again. “I’m falling fast too, Fireball.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. You can trust me,” I whisper.

“I know,” he replies. “And I do.”

He kisses the smile right off my face.