“And you injected him?”
“Yes.”
“But you almost died before you could.”
“I did.” I rubbed my side, poking at the soreness that still lingered. “I almost lost the two people I love most in the world with my idiotic behaviour. I thought I could fix what I’d caused. I tried to do the right thing.”
“By killing someone.”
“By killing a monster who’d already taken far too many lives.”
Brad nodded and turned to face the jury. He spread his arms and delivered his closing statement. “Gilbert Clark is a boy from a bad neighbourhood, born to an abusive father, and someone who prefers to suffer in silence than ask for help. He’s admitted to the crime he did. He’s willing to pay for taking a life of a man who murdered an unknown number of innocents and kidnapped his daughter for over a year. A man who took every penny he had and left him homeless because he didn’t want to involve the police in case his daughter was taken away for the second time by the courts. He’s also a man who dedicated his time teaching art part-time at his daughter’s school—even though his childhood was traumatised by a teacher who raped him. Living through these traumas has had profound psychological effects. He’s now bankrupt after a year of failing to protect his daughter. Overall, Gilbert Clark is not a bad man. He’s just one who fell into bad situations and didn’t ask for help. Thank you.”
Nodding at the judge, he added, “That’s all, your honour.” To me, he said, “You may leave the stand.”
I stood, searched for O in the crowd one last time, then returned to my seat for sentencing.
Chapter Thirty
______________________________
Olin
“ALL RISE FOR Honourable Judge Hoft.”
I stood with the crowd, gritty-eyed and heart-racing, staring at Gil’s back.
I hadn’t slept at all last night.
I doubted he did either.
I worried that I hadn’t been called to testify. If that was a good or a bad thing.
I worried about so many, many things.
After his time on the stand yesterday, the judge adjourned for the next day, giving the jury time to mull it over and for any other evidence to be presented when it wasn’t so late in the day. I’d waited for the police to pop by again—prepared to battle on his behalf.
But no one knocked on my door, and I’d forced myself to stay away from Justin’s, even though I basically had to chain myself to my apartment not to intrude on Gil and Olive’s final night together. He hadn’t expected the extra night. And I wouldn’t get in the middle of an already excruciating goodbye with his daughter.
Instead, Justin had text me and filled me in. How Gil had told Olive the truth about what he faced today. About how jail worked and why he was going away. He said Olive had taken it okay but he feared how things would go when Gil didn’t go home.
I’d tried to drown out my worry about Gil with concern about my own life. I hated my job. I despised my apartment. I was done living here alone and doing my best to settle for things I didn’t want.
Gil was almost out of my reach.
Justin and Olive would become close.
I wasn’t needed in their future anymore.
But that didn’t stop me from returning to the crown court the next day. It didn’t prevent me from sitting stiff with goosebumps as Gil and his lawyer returned in suits that didn’t have a speck of paint on them.
He’d never looked so presentable or so tragic.
His hair was tamed off his face as he sat in front of the audience. His hands remained balled on the table even when his lawyer scooted closer to talk to him.
The aura of the court was hushed and waiting.
Judge Holt glanced over the jury as she settled on her podium. Smoothing her gown, she asked, “Is there any other evidence or closing statements from either party?”
Sweat rolled down my spine as both lawyers shook their heads.
She nodded and turned to the jury. “In that case, do you have a verdict?”
A slim woman with a blonde plait nodded. “We do, your honour.”
“And?”
The woman opened an envelope.
Everyone held their breath.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Gil as he stiffened and braced himself.
The woman locked eyes with him and read in crisp firm voice. “We find the defendant, Gilbert Clark, guilty for the murder of Jeffrey Clark.”
The judge scribbled something down before looking up. “And the four painted girls?”
Tears prickled my eyes.
I wanted so much to hug Gil. To tell him I’d changed my mind. That I did have the strength to be his...if he still wanted me.
“Not guilty,” the woman announced.
Gil’s spine rolled. His hands dove into his hair, his elbows wedged on the table.
His lawyer patted his back with a rough slap.
The judge waited for the murmurs of the court to die down before rapping her gavel loudly. Her steely gaze caught Gil’s. “Mr. Clark. After your testimony and the evidence presented yesterday, I can say you are not a threat to society. You killed out of self-defense of those you loved, and, although your paint obscured the girls who were killed, you aren’t directly responsible. However, you did take a life, and for that, you must pay. Taking the law into your own hands always comes with consequences. If you’d spoken up about what had happened, those four young women might still be alive today.”
She shuffled a few pieces of paper. “The court demands you pay a fine to the families of the deceased of four hundred thousand pounds, one hundred thousand per family. You will not be charged with accessory before the act which carries up to fifteen years and instead will serve five years with one hundred hours of community service upon release.”
Her gavel slammed down.
It was done.
My ears rang with the sentencing.
Five years?
Five years?
Such a long time, but really...incredibly short for murder.
He’d been lucky.
Life had finally been kind.
“Bailiff, please escort Mr. Clark to his new home. Thank you, jury, for your help in delivering justice today.” The judge stood. “Court dismissed.”
People sprang from their seats, journalists crammed to listen to what Gil’s lawyer said to him, and I wriggled my way through the crowd to say goodbye.
All over again.
Gil seemed to sense my closeness, turning to catch me from the crowd before he was ushered out and into places I couldn’t go.
I searched his eyes for panic or pain, but I only saw relief.
“You okay?” I asked softly, barely audible above the hum of other conversation.
He nodded. “I don’t want to leave Olive. But I’m okay with serving what I owe.”
“Five years is a long time.”
“It is. But if it helps rid some of my guilt, then I’ll do it without complaint.” His eyes dropped to my lips. “My one huge regret in this is that I hurt you so much, O. There’s no punishment that can take that guilt away.”
My mouth went dry.
I ached with so many things.
Justin and Olive should be here.
They should be allowed to hug him, so he wasn’t shuffled off without knowing he was loved.