Our Time Now. [Patrick Kane][Completed]

Chapter Twenty-one.

"Patrick, all of my clothes are at Macy's apartment. I have no clue what to wear. It's best if I just don't fucking go." I yelled at him.

I was on edge. He knew I was on edge, and he got why. He didn't push me. 

"Charlie said that you can just come over and pick out some things. You need to go Alice." Patrick said, not raising his tone even slightly. He was so patient.

I didn't deserve him. 

He walked over to me, and gently brought me into his chest. He knew it helped calmed me, even though sometimes it came with a violent reaction. The rise and fall of his chest helped slow the rise and fall of mine. 

"We will get through this. He will go away for the rest of his life for what he did to you." He reenforced. He tipped my chin to look up at him. "You can do this. I will be there for you every second." 

---

Seeing him in handcuffs only made me feel slightly better about being in the same room with him. I had lost so much weight it was bordering on dangerous. But I couldn't keep anything down. Since I had received the phone call, my stress levels were through the roof. Patrick was cautious of anything he said or did around me, but I appreciated him for not ceasing to give up on me, especially after he came home to find me sobbing in the closet. More than once. 

The trial would last a few weeks, and I was going to have to testify, because my father and sister were also going to testify, only they were going to say I was a liar. The whole situation made me sick, but I just had to do it. 

Patrick was going to stay with me as much as he could, but he always had to go home for games. It was going to suck. 

I didn't listen to most of what was happening, because I lived it. I didn't need the play by play. 

My whole life had changed since that stupid piece of shit called me. Besides the outbursts of anger, and random crying, I felt somewhat freed. For years I had been pushed away and called a liar. My own sister had made fun of me being molested as a child, and here he was, on trial. In a way I had already won. 

The sound of the gavel banging broke me out of my trance, and Patrick stood up. I followed him out of the courtroom, and my stomach dropped as I saw the several reporters outside that I had to deal with. 

"Hey," Patrick said, squeezing my hand gently. "You don't have to say anything to anyone. You just keep walking, our car is out front, and the driver is ready to take us back to the hotel. I'm here." he brought my hand up to his mouth where he left a small kiss on the top of it.

"Okay." I nodded at him. 

He led me out of the courthouse and we were immediately hounded by reporters. 

"What was it like to face the man that molested you?" 

"Did he say anything to you?" 

"Patrick, how are you dealing with all of this?"

"Patrick, how is this trial effecting your season?" 

Of course the questions hurt, they weren't meant to make me feel better. They were only meant to find the dirtiest gossip they could, and print it for the masses. 

We couldn't get to the car soon enough, but once we did, we were off. I leaned into Patrick for support, being too emotionally drained to function. The ride back was quick, and we rushed into the hotel once we got there. I looked at Patrick for the first time in what felt like hours, days even, and I mean really looked at him. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, his hair out of control, but he was still so incredibly handsome. I could always feels his eyes on me during the trial, or when I was talking to the prosecutors. He always wanted me to feel comfortable and safe with him. But it was wearing on him, and I couldn't help but feel guilty.