#jj outerbanks

For the first “book” of this series, click here! 

(gif not mine! all credit to jjouterbanks!)

word count - 6.0k
warnings - mentions of abuse, mentions of vomiting, swearing
synopsis - You begin the treacherous journey of your dad’s trial, meeting your lawyer, a man by the name of Brandon Millerton. Some words from your friends reassure you that you aren’t in this game alone. 
a/n - we’re back baby!! I’m so excited to work with El again I can’t even describe it. I’ve been thinking about this storyline since I ended Ocean and Alcohol and have been plotting and brainstorming since season two came out! I really hope you guys enjoy it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay groovy folks!

***

The night was dark. Darker than usual. It was a new moon, so the only light shining down on you was that of the stars. A bitter breeze blew past you, making you shiver in your loose, thin pajamas. But you stayed where you were, rooted to the wicker chair on Ms. Lana’s front porch as if it was the only thing keeping you afloat. 

Your bed wasn’t right. It wasn’t too soft and it wasn’t really too hard either. It just wasn’t…right. You’d never been picky about where you slept; the back of your truck, John B’s fold out, Kie’s couch, Pope’s front lawn. But the bed in Ms. Lana’s spare room wasn’t right. You could barely close your eyes before shifting position again. 

So, you had given up, grabbed a glass of water, and walked onto the porch, where you sat in the wicker chair. Your knees were pressed up against your chest, arms wrapped around your legs in hopes of keeping some of your warmth inside. 

Ms. Lana had a wonderful view of the swamp. You had always been so sheltered on your part of the island. There was just manicured grass and a tall tree and a house that was too large for three people to live in. A ghost house. 

The home Ms. Lana lived in was nothing more than an old fishing shack. It was small, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a space for the kitchen and living room. The colorful paint that covered the outside of the house was chipping and peeled. Thinking of it reminded you of the story that JJ told you about the square groupers and the paint that was in his hair. 

Another bone chilling breeze past by you and goose bumps scattered over your legs and arms, the hair on the back of your neck standing on edge. 

The front door creaked open and you turned to find Kid standing there. His eyes were rimmed red and drooping. He hadn’t been sleeping. 

“What are you doing up?” You asked anyway, opening an arm out to him. 

Kid shuffled over to you and dropped himself into the chair next to you, dropping his head onto your shoulder. You placed your hand onto his head, brushing your fingers through his hair gently. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” you asked him. Kid shook his head. You kissed his temple. “Me neither.” 

The two of you sat there, watching the dark horizon. It was warmer with him there, curled up against you. It was silent, save for the rustling of the leaves in the wind and the soft chirp of cicadas. But it wasn’t so much of a lonely silence as before. 

“El?” Kid asked, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah?” 

“What’s going to happen now?” 

It was a heavy question. You breathed out a heavy, cold breath, feeling your chest tighten. Kid shifted so he could lift his head and look at you, waiting for an answer. You could feel his little eyes on you, expectant. You couldn’t lie to him, not after everything. He had been through too much for lies. 

“I don’t know,” you said to him, not sure if you could look him in the eye. “A lot.” 

“When will we get to go home?” He rested his head against your shoulder again. 

“I don’t know that either, Kid.” 

He sighed. 

“I’m tired,” he told you. “But I can’t sleep.” 

“Why don’t you come sleep in the bed with me?” you suggested. “We’ll get some water and then go to bed.” 

Kid nodded his head and the two of you clambered out of the chair that was too small for the both of you to fit in comfortably. Taking his hand in yours, the two of you walked back inside. Once your glasses were filled with water, you both tiptoed back to the spare room and flopped onto the bed. It was still too hot to be wearing a heavy blanket, so Kid just crawled under the sheet. Before you followed suit, you pulled JJ’s sweater over your head. 

When you were finally under the sheet, Kid scooted as close to you as he could. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed the back of his head. 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” you whispered to him. “But whatever happens, it’s you and me against the world.” 

“You and me,” he murmured, seeming to already fall into a deep sleep. 

“You and me.” 

It was a promise. It didn’t matter what storms blew your way. You would do anything to keep your brother safe. No matter the cost. Steeling your resolve, you forced your eyes to shut. Tomorrow was a big day and you had a lot to do before then.

And you weren’t going to let Kid down. 

****

You shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair, tapping your feet against the ugly carpet below you. You couldn’t feel your heart pounding in your chest, fluttering at about the same speed as a hummingbird’s wings. Pope had told you how fast hummingbirds beat their wings, but the rate was escaping you. 

It wasn’t important. The paper in your hands. That was important. 

Ms. Lana was in the chair next to you, the epitome of calmness, save for her hands that were wrapped around her purse so tightly her knuckles were turning white. 

“Everything is going to be okay,” she said to you. 

All you could do was nod and turn to look at the other empty chair next to you. You weren’t sure who was going to show up first, your mom or Shoupe. You weren’t sure your heart could take the ache of waiting anymore. Your heart was going to beat right out of your chest if something didn’t happen soon. 

When the door finally opened, you nearly jumped out of your seat. Ms. Lana seemed to have the same reaction as you both turned toward the door. Shoupe was standing there, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I’m sorry, Elma,” he said and your beating heart deflated. 

You tried not to get your hopes up about your mom. You didn’t really expect her to stay once she was told she couldn’t take Kid. But with you still being a minor, you didn’t have access to any of your father’s money. He would be using all of it to buy himself a good defense attorney and you were left with nothing. Maybe it was naive to think she would stay and help you through all of this, maybe find you a good therapist or counselor or something. But she wasn’t here. Of course she wasn’t. 

Still, you found it hard to breathe. 

“It’s okay,” you said, throat thick. Ms. Lana reached out to take your arm and even though you didn’t really want to be touched, you let her. It made her feel better. 

“What are our options moving forward?” Ms. Lana asked when it was clear you wouldn’t be able to. 

Shoupe settled behind his desk, which still held Peterkin’s desk tag, and he sighed. He leaned forward and his eyes landed on the bandage wrapped around your arm. Heat flushed through your face. You had wanted to cover up the bandages, but it was way too hot out to wear anything long sleeved. So you shifted, pressing your wounded arm against your stomach and Shoupe’s eyes flicked back up toward your face before looking over at Ms. Lana. 

He cleared his throat before talking. 

“Your father is pleading not guilty to the charges of domestic abuse, so it will be going to court,” Shoupe said and you swallowed hard. “That means there will be a prosecutor presenting your case. I’m not sure how much either of you know about our system, but the prosecutor won’t be defending you and Kid, per say, but the law. The two of you will just be witnesses.” 

All you could do was nod. You thought you’d been ready for all of this law and justice talk, but you weren’t sure if you were retaining any of it. 

“Because you’re still a minor, your mom would be your adult attendant, but until she shows up, you can find another legal adult to be your attendant.” 

All you could do was look over at Ms. Lana, your eyes wide. 

“I’ll do it,” Ms. Lana said in a heartbeat, without even looking at you. When she moved to take your hand, you were welcoming of it. Ms. Lana nodded her head, affirming. “I’ll be their adult attendant.” 

Shoupe nodded his head. 

“Okay. The prosecutor for Kildare county is Brandon Millerton. You and Kid are our prime witnesses, so you will be spending most of your time with him-” 

“I don’t want Kid to testify,” you said, your eyes turning to the name tag on Shoupe’s desk. 

Ms. Lana turned to look at you and Shoupe scowled. 

“Elma-” 

“Please don’t call me that,” you said, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want Kid to sit up in that witness chair and have to tell a courtroom of his friends and their families what happened to us. I don’t want him in the courtroom at all. Ever.” 

“Are you sure?” Ms. Lana asked gently. 

“I will tell you and the attorney everything as long as Kid doesn’t testify.” With every word, your voice got stronger. You needed him to know you were serious. After staring at you for a few more moments, Shoupe nodded his head. 

“Okay.” 

“Promise me Kid doesn’t step foot in that courtroom until the sentencing.” 

“I promise.”

You let out a slow breath and leaned back in your chair, your muscles relaxing. Shoupe stretched his neck to look out of his window, looking for someone. 

“The prosecutor is here,” he said and your pulse skyrocketed again. “I have a few things to talk to him about and then you will have your chance.” 

You nodded your head, mouth once again too dry to speak. Ms. Lana stood and let her hand fall away from yours. You followed after her. 

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Ms. Lana said. 

“I’m not technically Sheriff yet, Lana,” Shoupe said with an almost sheepish smile. 

“You will be.” 

Her affirmation turned his cheeks red and you almost rolled your eyes. The name on the desk still said Peterkin, yet he was sitting there. There was no one else who could possibly fill her spot. As many issues as you had with Shoupe in the past, especially surrounding John B and JJ, you were grateful for his help. Still, you wished it was Peterkin who was there to walk you through this. You hated being so vulnerable to a man. 

And that sentiment carried over to the lawyer. As you and Ms. Lana left Shoupe’s office, Brandon Millerton entered it. 

He was a young man, probably still new at being a lawyer, which didn’t give you much confidence. But his suit was well pressed, his dark hair gelled to the side neatly. He didn’t look skittish, frightened, or intimidated. He walked with his head tall, his steely eyes focused forward. As he passed by you, he glanced in your direction and you turned your gaze away as quickly as you could. 

“Let’s go outside for a bit, yeah?” Ms. Lana suggested, a hand on your elbow. 

You turned back to look at the lawyer just as he shut the door to Shoupe’s office. You nodded your head and Ms. Lana led you outside. You knew she was talking to you as you stood out in the sun, but you weren’t really listening to what she was saying. All of your thoughts were on the notebook in your hands where your testimony had been written. 

There were very few people who knew the dirty details about what happened underneath your roof. JJ being the one who knew the most. The thought of sharing it to a strange man with Ms. Lana sitting right next to you, who knew barely anything at all, made you sick to your stomach. 

Everything, your entire life, was written in this book. Except one part. The one part you refused to testify to. No one needed to know the real reason your mother left. There would be enough to throw your dad in prison until he rotted without the entire island knowing the full extent of what he did to you. You would keep that between you, JJ, and God. 

Still, the thought of sharing all of that other stuff pushed bile into your throat, but you shoved it down. Ms. Lana had quieted down, realizing that you weren’t responding because you weren’t listening, but she kept a strong hand on your shoulder. 

Kid was with JJ and Kie today, probably at the beach or the Wreck. He was older than you gave him credit for sometimes. He knew exactly what was going on, but he was young enough that you hoped spending time with two of his favorite people would keep his mind off of what you were doing and why he wasn’t there with you. 

The door the station opened, causing you and Ms. Lana to spin around. 

“He’s ready for you,” one of the deputy’s said. 

You nodded your head and took your first step toward him before you could second guess yourself. 

Prosecutor Millerton was sitting in one of the only interrogation rooms in the station, which was where Shoupe led you and Ms. Lana. You refused to let any amount of nerves stop you for even a second because you knew that if you hesitated at all, you would run all the way back to Ms. Lana’s house and never look back. 

Shoupe opened the door for you and Ms. Lana. The interrogation room was cold, grey, emotionless. You appreciated the maturity of it, you supposed. Part of you had imagined a child’s room with toys and books and plushy chairs to make you feel more ‘comfortable’. You were glad they weren’t treating you like a child. 

But in a room like this, you couldn’t help but feel like you were the one going on trial. 

“Ah, Miss Elma,” Millerton said, looking up from his papers with a smile. 

“Please call me El,” you told him as you lowered yourself into one of the cold metal chairs. 

“Right. El. And you must be Ms. Lana.” He stood and shook Ms. Lana’s hand before they both settled into chairs. “My name is Brandon Millerton and I would really like for us to start off with removing some of the formality. Just call me Brandon.” 

You nodded, unable to say much else. 

“So, El,” he said and flipped open a file. “Do you know what this trial is going to look like?” 

You shook your head, unable to tell him that you didn’t really care, that you just wanted to get to the part where you told him your testimony and made him also promise to never let Kid testify. 

He started to walk you through the arraignment and the trial and what would happen and what evidence they would use aside from your testimony and how he would coach you through the witness seat and cross examination. Your lips trembled as you struggled to retain all of the information while still attempting to keep yourself from vomiting. 

“I want to be honest with you,” he said after he finished. “In a lot of cases like these, the defense team will try to turn the tables on you and make you out to be the villain instead of the victim.” 

That word hung in the air and made your nose twitch. You hated it. You weren’t a victim. At least, you had never seen yourself as such. 

“What does that mean?” Ms. Lana asked, not as hung up on the wording as you were. 

“It means that if you sit in the witness bench, during cross examination, the defense attorney will try to turn everything onto you. So, I need to know everything about your personal life. I know it seems unfair, but we have to get in front of anything they might be able to throw our way. Drug use, alcohol use, boyfriends, everything, do you understand?” 

You swallowed but nodded your head. 

“We have the burden of proof, El,” he said with a sigh, looking down at the case file. “And in your case, I’d like to say that it would be easy. But depending on the jury, I know these rich folks like to stick together quite a lot. We can’t have any surprises.”

You nodded again. 

“If you’d like, today we can just start with what you’ve prepared. Moving forward, we’ll get into deeper detail and I’ll begin coaching you through everything, but that probably won’t be until after the arraignment, which isn’t until next Monday. Will your brother be here later to give me his testimony?” 

“I…I don’t want my brother testifying,” you said, shifting forward in your seat. A chill ran through you as a sliver of your bare thigh brushed the cold chair. 

Brandon looked up at you from underneath his eyebrows, shocked by your request. 

“And why is that?” 

“He’s a kid,” you said, searching for that strength you had before when talking to Shoupe. “I don’t want him to have to go through any of it.” 

Brandon sighed and you felt a pang in your chest. Your request would only make his already difficult job harder. Even with your throat dry and your legs shaking, you would hold firm on this. 

“Whatever I have to do, I’ll do it. As long as Kid doesn’t have to sit in that room and listen to his dad spread lies about us,” you said, finding your eyes stinging with tears. 

Brandon dipped his head. 

“That will make our job a little bit harder, but if that’s what the both of you want-” 

“It is.” 

You actually hadn’t talked to Kid about it. He would have done it if you asked. You would tell him that they just needed your testimony, that he could stay with Dex during the trial. That would satisfy him. 

“Then Bradford won’t testify.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Anymore questions before we begin?” You shook your head. “Then whenever you’re ready.” 

Your hands shook as you flipped open your notebook. Ms. Lana kept her hands to herself, but you could feel her eyes on you like a blanket. It was comforting in some strange way. Once you finally found the pages where your chicken scratch handwriting had scrawled out all of your chaotic thoughts, you set the notebook in your lap and breathed in deeply. 

“Take your time,” Brandon told you. “And take breaks if you need. I understand that this can be very difficult.” 

But you didn’t want to take your time. You needed to get it out. All of it. Let the words come flowing out of you before the vomit did. 

 Again, you knew that hesitation would be the death of you so as soon as the words were in front of you, you started reading them. It was nearly incoherent and not chronological. It was an info dump of screaming and beatings and the silent treatment and cleaning your own blood off the floor and scrubbing dirt out of crevasses before your dad got home and learning the perfect combination of concealer colors to cover up bruises. You lifted your hand to show the scar that ran across your palm as you told Brandon the story of how you got it, the same story you told JJ that night all those months ago. 

And Brandon listened. He scribbled things on his yellow notepad, but you barely paid any attention to him as he wrote, unable to tear your own eyes from the pages in front of you. 

You told him about dropping out of school and getting a job and making sure that if Kid ever did anything you knew would set off your dad, that you would do something worse to keep Kid safe. You talked until your throat was scratchy and then talked even more until you finished everything that you had written down. 

By the end of it, Brandon was still writing and you were breathing heavily. You had barely heard yourself, so you had no idea how quickly you were talking or how little you were breathing between sentences. 

You glanced over at Ms. Lana and found her misty eyed, tears on her cheeks and a hand over her mouth. 

“Is that all?” Brandon asked, finally looking up from his notepad. 

You wanted more? 

“There’s this,” you said, lifting your arm to show him the bandages. 

“Will you tell me about it?” 

You pressed your lips together, unsure of how to even begin to explain what it was or what had happened, especially without revealing what had happened to you when you were younger. 

“He…” You choked on the words. “He carved something into my arm with a steak knife on our dinner table.” 

Brandon looked up at you then, his first real sign of surprise since you started talking. You couldn’t imagine how many cases he had covered that involved child abuse, but it was clear that you took the medeal when it came to this arena. Which you weren’t really sure was an accomplishment. 

Once he collected himself, he looked back down at his paper. 

“What did he carve?” 

“Whore,” you said, the word coming out bitter. “I think you can imagine why.” 

“I wasn’t going to ask.” You believed him. 

“And before you ask about photographing it,” you added quickly. “You won’t be able to.” 

“Why?” 

“Because last week, I took a knife of my own and tried to erase it.” Again, Brandon looked up at you in surprise. All you could do was shrug. “It’s currently a scabbed, ugly mess.” 

“We can talk more about that later,” he said. “Let’s get you some water.” 

“I actually…I can just get water back at the house,” you said, not wanting to be in that room for any longer than you needed to be. 

“Sure. I think we should stop there for today. I know how hard it is to share something like this with a total stranger, so I wanted to thank you for your courage and your strength,” he said. 

You weren’t really sure you wanted his gratitude. You didn’t really have a choice in the matter, so you gave him a thin lipped smile in response. 

“The two of you are free to go,” he said. “I would like to talk to you tomorrow, Sunday, so we can talk about the arraignment on Monday.” 

“Will do,” Ms. Lana said. 

“We’ll be in touch.” 

You had nothing left to say, so you didn’t even offer a goodbye when Brandon did, you simply stood and walked out of the room. You managed to keep yourself together all the way through the police station, passing by cops who watched your every movement. 

You didn’t trust a single one of them. Just days ago, they were hunting one of your best friends like a criminal. Now they were whispering behind your back like you were a common skank in for solicitation. You held your head as high as you could, Ms. Lana walking right behind you. 

As soon as the police station doors closed behind you, you were vomiting up what very little was in your stomach into the flower beds. It was like acid burning it’s way up your throat, rotting your mouth, but it was better than keeping it in for a second longer. Bending over the wall, you heaved out water and not much else. 

Ms. Lana held your hair out of the way and rubbed a hand over your back. She hummed quietly to you and the scene was almost familiar. You had a vague memory of being fourteen and hurling into the toilet at 7 in the morning while your mother hummed a quiet song, her hand rubbing a similar pattern as Ms. Lana. 

“You ready to go home?” Ms. Lana asked once you were finished. 

You spat the remaining taste out of your mouth and nodded your head. Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you followed Ms. Lana to her car, the sun beating down on you from high above. 

The drive back to Ms. Lana’s house was quiet. She let you know that if you needed to throw up again, she was more than willing to pull over. But you had nothing left to hurl out of your stomach. As soon as Ms. Lana pulled out of the driveway, you pulled out your phone and texted JJ, letting him know that you were on the way home. 

Your legs bounced as you waited for a reply. It came quickly, which soothed your uneasiness. 

K. Bringing ice cream. 

You almost smiled. You and Ms. Lana made it back home before JJ, Kie, and Kid did. At first, you wished that Kid was there as soon as you were, but his absence gave you time to brush your teeth and find something salty to eat. You were eating Saltines at the dinner table across from Ms. Lana when Kid ran in through the front door. 

“El!” He ran over and threw his arms around you. 

“Hey, Kid. What’ve you been up to?” you asked, brushing dirt off of his chin. 

“JJ and Kiara took me on a hike,” he said. “Walked up and around some of the trails.” 

“Sounds like fun,” you said. “You leave them up there?” 

Kid rolled his eyes. 

“No,” he said. “They’re just slow.” 

“I see.” 

“We brought ice cream!” 

With that announcement, Kid ran off to your room to change out of his muddy clothes. Not long afterward, Kie and JJ walked into the house. Kie had a tub of ice cream in her hands and a smile on her face. 

“Hey!” you said, trying your best to give them a smile. 

“Ice cream!” Kie said in response as she lifted the tub into the air. “I’ll start serving.” 

“Hi,” you whispered. 

JJ walked over to you and pressed a short kiss against the top of your head. He walked around to the other side of the table and did the same to Ms. Lana, whose eyes widened at you. You shrugged at her, now trying to hide a smile that you couldn’t resist. 

“We got chocolate. I hope that works,” JJ said, following Kie to the counter. 

“Wonderful,” Ms. Lana said. “Thank you guys for watching Kid today.” 

“He’s the sweetest thing in the entire world,” Kie mused. 

“I thought about drop kicking him off a cliff a few times,” JJ said, swiping two of the bowls off of the counter. 

He set one of the bowls next to you and you stuck your tongue out at him. 

“You’re off babysitting duty,” you told him. 

“Thank God,” JJ huffed before shoving some of the ice cream in his mouth. 

Kie sat at the table, handing a bowl off to Ms. Lana and left one out for Kid whenever he was ready. 

“How did it go?” Kie asked after leaving a few moments for silence. 

You breathed in deeply, leaving the cold spoon in your mouth for a few moments. 

“I went okay,” you said with a sigh. “Mom didn’t show up.” 

“El, I’m sorry,” Kie said, but you shook your head. 

“I didn’t expect her to come,” you told her quickly. “Besides, I’d rather have Ms. Lana with me.” 

Ms. Lana’s cheeks tinged red as she took a bite of ice cream to hide her smile. 

“When’s the arraignment?” Kie asked. 

“Monday.” 

“What’s that?” JJ asked, pushing his already empty bowl away from him. As Kie started to explain, you pushed your bowl closer to him, which he gladly accepted. 

“It’s where Gerald’s defense team pleads guilty or not,” Kie said. 

“How could he be anything but guilty?” JJ asked and you cringed as he flickered chocolate ice cream off of his spoon onto the table. 

“If they think they have a good defense,” Kie said slowly, glancing at you. 

“That’s bullshit,” JJ said. 

“Watch your mouth under my roof, Maybank,” Ms. Lana said sharply. 

“Sorry, Ms. Lana.” 

“It is bullshit,” said Kid, shuffling over to the table and his half melted ice cream. 

“Kid,” you hissed at him but he shrugged you off. 

“But it is!” he said loudly. “It’s not fair! After everything…they should just lock him away.” 

Ms. Lana sighed and so did you, leaning your jaw against a propped up hand and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“This is the way our system works, Kid,” you told him as gently as you could. “He has rights like you and me, rights to a trial by jury of his peers.” 

“I hate it,” he muttered. 

“It is the same system that will keep John B from going to prison,” Kie said. 

“Maybe,” JJ said under his breath. 

“Hey, Kid, we can talk about this later,” you said, sending a sharp look JJ’s way. “I’ll answer all of your questions, okay?” 

Kid nodded solemnly. 

“Good. Eat your ice cream.” 

As Ms. Lana and Kid finished their food, you, Kie, and JJ stepped outside. 

“You’ve got a strong brother in there,” JJ said, settling onto the beat up porch. 

“He shouldn’t have to be,” you said with a heavy sigh as you dropped yourself into the wicker chair. Kie found another chair to sit in and did so with a smile and a sigh. 

“Did it go okay?” Kie asked you, obviously referring to the meeting with the lawyer. 

“It sucked ass,” you said with a heavy sigh. “But that’s got to be the hardest part, right? Until I have to say the same thing again in front of an entire jury and courthouse full of people that I know.” 

“Is your lawyer nice?”

“Ah, Brandon Millerton,” you said, leaning your head back against the wall. 

“Your lawyer’s a dude?” JJ asked, his tone a little bit harsher than you expected. 

“Not like I had a choice in the matter. But yes, my lawyer’s a dude.” 

“A cute dude?” 

“Not cuter than you,” you said and poked JJ in the nose. He scrunched up his nose in a mocking way. “He seems like an okay guy. Hopefully he does his job well.” 

“Will you be at the arraignment on Monday?” You nodded your head slowly. “Then we will, too.” 

“Yeah, us, and Pope and John B and Sarah. We’ll all be there,” JJ told you. 

“No, no, you guys don’t have to do that.” You shook your head. “Especially not John B and Sarah. They have their own trials they have to deal with eventually. I don’t want them to have to-” 

“We’re all going to be there, El,” Kie said. “No matter what. Right, JJ?” 

“Ehhhh, I dunno,” he said, stretching. “On second thought, I have a lot of catching up to do before school starts and-” 

Kie shut him up by punching him in the shoulder, but it actually made you laugh. The thought of JJ doing school work was a funny enough image in your head. 

“We’re with you in this to the end, Ellie,” JJ said, putting a hand on your knee. 

“Careful there, Maybank,” you teased. “You’re doing the emotional shit again.” 

“You know what?” 

“What?” 

“Okay, nope, no, none of that,” Kie said, waving her hands through the air. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you two flirt. No way.” 

“Then close your eyes,” JJ said. 

Kie looked like she was going to tackle him and pummel him with her fists when her phone rang. 

“Damn, the parents are calling,” she said with a sigh. “Gotta head home. I’ll see you Monday?” 

“See you Monday,” you said. Kie waved goodbye and skipped back to her car. You and JJ watched her go before turning back to look at each other. 

“Will you stay tonight?” you asked him before he could say anything. 

“I have nowhere else to be,” he told you. 

You nodded your head and stood, beckoning for him to come back inside. Ms. Lana and Kid were still there with their empty bowls of ice cream. They were laughing about something, but quieted down when you and JJ walked back inside. 

“Is it okay if JJ stays over?” You asked Ms. Lana, who nodded. 

“Of course. I’ll get started on dinner,” she said, standing. She took the empty bowls from the table. “JJ, will you help me?” 

JJ looked over at Lana and then glanced at you. You dipped your head at him, putting a hand on Kid’s shoulder. 

“Sure.” 

“C’mere,” you said to Kid, nodding your head toward the back room. 

Kid pushed himself out of the chair and followed you into the room. You sat cross legged onto the bed and patted the blankets next to you, motioning for him to sit beside you. He did so, his head hanging. 

“There are just a few things I wanted to talk to you about before tomorrow,” you said to him, fiddling with your fingers. 

“It’s about Dad,” he said, his words so quiet you could barely hear him. 

Your throat tightened and you nodded his head. 

“Yeah, it is. The very first step of the trial is on Monday,” you told him slowly. “I’ve talked to the lawyer, his name is Brandon Millerton, and we have agreed that you won’t take the stand, okay? You don’t have to talk to anyone ever. I’ll do all of the talking.” 

Kid let out a heavy breath, still looking at his hands. His shoulders sagged with what you thought might be relief. 

“I also want to make sure you never have to see Dad again,” you continued. “So, during the trial, you will be staying with Dex and his family.” 

Kid lifted his head suddenly, eyes wide. 

“What? No!” 

“Kid, please-” 

“El, I’m not going to hide while you’re in there in front of all those people.” 

“I’m just trying to protect you, alright? The only way I know how to do that is make sure that you’re not in the courtroom during the trial. No matter what happens, I don’t want you to have to even see Dad or him to see you. It’ll only hurt you.” 

“I’m not scared of him!” 

“I know, I know. And I know you’re a strong kid. I’m not trying to keep you in the dark. I will come back every day and tell you what’s happened.” 

“But, El-” 

“Listen, Kid, please. Trust that I am trying to do what is best for you.” Kid still looked confused, his eyebrows pinched together. You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. “Dad’s team, if they plead not guilty at the arraignment, will try to pin everything on someone else and that person will likely be me.” 

“So I should be there to tell them that it isn’t you!” 

“No, Kid!” You raised your voice louder than you had meant to and he flinched. “They will tell the jury things about me that you do not know. I don’t want any of that getting into your head. I can take whatever they throw at me, okay? I can take it. But what I won’t survive is if you look at me any differently because of what happens in that courtroom. Do you understand? I have to protect you from that and I have to protect myself, too.” 

“I don’t care what they say,” he said quietly after a while. 

“I know that it doesn’t seem like it, but the best way for you to help me is to stay with Dex during the trial,” you told him. Slowly, Kid nodded his head. 

“Okay,” he said. 

“Okay?” You finally felt like you could breathe, a weight lifting off of your chest. “Okay, good.” 

Kid leaned forward, indicating to you that he wanted a hug. Wrapping your arms around him, you were glad that he wasn’t angry with you. You knew that this was the best thing for him, but you had been worried that he would hate you for this decision. You kissed the top of his head before clambering off of the bed. 

“Let’s go help Lana and JJ with dinner,” you said, offering your hand to him. 

He gladly took it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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