42. Johnny

The jury's been deliberating for two days, and I don't know if that's a good sign or a bad one. If I lost, they'd make the decision fast, right? So maybe they're debating how much money is right to punish Pinkerton Studios? That may be wishful thinking on my part, but I'm a big fan of wishful thinking.

Then we get the call to head back to court, because the jury's made its decision.

"All rise."

I stand next to Danny and August and my husband–boyfriend–love of my life. I ignore everyone in the courtroom associated with the studio. They don't matter one bit.

"Have you reached a verdict?" The judge is addressing one of the jury members. I guess she's called the foreperson.

Kurt takes my hand and squeezes it.

"We have, Your Honor."

My heart's beating so hard, I think I'm going to explode. This can't be healthy.

Please have believed me. Please have believed me.

The judge starts reading the verdict out loud, and the language is so convoluted that I can't quite tell what's going on. But then he says that they find for the plaintiff, which is me, and then he says the amount, and it's $500,000.

I blow out a good long breath. More than I was gonna settle for. Take that, Gary.

And then he keeps going, and he says punitive damages are awarded in the amount of $20 million, and I blink.

That's the amount to punish the bad guy, Danny had explained. And if that's what the jury's saying, then they're really pissed at Gary.

"You won," Kurt whispers, and I turn and hug him, burying my face in his shoulder. A tear trickles down my cheek, but I get myself together as the jury files out, trying to keep a poker face.

But in reality, I'm dazed.

A few members of the jury smile at me, which makes my chest expand.

"They believed me," I murmur to Kurt.

"Of course they believed you. You told the truth," he whispers back.

"I've gotta call Tawni and thank her." Giddiness breaks through the fog of my last few weeks.

"You do that, but while she helped, you're the one who did this." Kurt pauses. "Along with your lawyers."

"They're great, aren't they?" I stand, and Danny holds out his arms.

"Congrats, Johnny," he says. "Justice was served."

I'm still keeping it together, but I want to fold inward. Nevertheless, I give August a hug, too, and we gather up all their boxes of stuff and file out.

In the hallway, Gary storms by us without a word.

"Holy shit, I won," I say, sitting down hard on the nearest bench.

"Do you think he's going to appeal?" Kurt asks Danny, and my heart continues on its goddamn roller coaster.

"He could, but it's going to be difficult for him to win, and he'd have to post a bond for the amount he owes first," Danny says.

Truth be told, I hadn't been counting on any money. I'd just been so hurt that I wanted Gary brought to justice. Is this what justice feels like?

Twelve strangers agreed that bad shit happened to me, and that Gary should be punished.

I suppose I shouldn't be as blasé as that. It does feel good to be believed.

It's finally over. Unless he appeals, which I … am gonna choose not to think about. Not right now. There's nothing I can do about it, so go away, bad thoughts.

"Assuming he doesn't appeal, how long until I get the money?" I ask.

Danny sighs. "That's the thing. We have ways of collecting, but it's not automatic. The court doesn't supervise payment. And I think Gary won't pay unless he's pressed. Don't worry, we'll press him. Just … be prepared to not see the money for a while."

I nod, but Kurt has a strange expression on his face. "Do you mind giving me the firm's wiring information?" he asks Danny.

Danny raises an eyebrow but says, "No, I don't mind. I'll have Alden send it to you. He's our bookkeeper." He blushes. "And my partner."

When we get home, I feel like a zombie. All the emotion of hearing that verdict come back has burned out of me, and I am … done. As we leave our shoes by the door, Lady jumps up on me and gives me kisses, which wake me up.

"Let's put her in her crate, and I'll take you to bed," Kurt says.

It's not even seven, but fine. She's got a comfy crate, so I don't mind putting her in it.

"I'm not sure if I'm in the mood for sex," I admit.

"That's not what I had in mind," he says.

"No?"

"I figured you might need to decompress."

My face crumples. I've been working so hard to hold it together, and the fact that Kurt sees that, sees me? It makes me love him even more.

We take off our suits and climb into bed in our underwear. Kurt pushes me onto my back and then climbs on top of me, kissing me and wrapping his arms around my neck.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you, too."

After a few minutes, he rolls us so he's the one on his back, and I shift over so my ear is on his chest and I can hear his heartbeat.

That steady beat is prettier than any noise I've ever heard. And I realize I'm not hearing violins anymore.

I burst out crying. "Fuck," I whisper. "This was a whole lotta shit to go through."

"I know, babe. Get it out. Get it all out."

Clinging to Kurt, I cry out everything. I cry out the hate and anger. The rage. The shame. I cry out how fucking hurt I was at being assaulted and then at not being believed. I weep for the shame of being a sex worker—when people want sex workers. I cry for my mama and her illness. I cry in relief for her body seeming to accept Kurt's mama's kidney.

I cry for the sweet support of my darling husband, who's stayed by my side, even when it got tough.

He's as loyal as they come.

He doesn't say anything. Just holds me and gives me the freedom to let out all the feelings I've been caging up for months … years … decades.

At the end, when I'm all cried out, I have a damn headache. Kurt brings me pain relievers and takes me into the shower, where the hot water washes away all the crud.

Then he orders pizza.

I realize I'm ravenous. Don't remember the last time I was actually hungry.

After dinner, we walk Lady on the beach, and I feel like a human being for the first time in I can't remember how long.

In the middle of the night, I wake up feeling giddy. "Holy crap, it's over," I whisper in the darkness.

Kurt stirs. "Hmm?"

"Sorry to wake you, baby," I say. "But it's hitting me again and again. I'm done with those bastards forever."

"It's okay. I'm happy it's over, too."

"I feel … free."

"Good." He climbs onto me. "But you're stuck with me."

"That's a kind of freedom I'll happily give up."

Ace, my agent, calls me the next morning. "I hear congratulations are in order. That's a big award."

"Thanks. Yeah, it is. I dunno if I'll ever see a dime of it, but it's vindicating, you know?"

"I do." His voice drops. "Johnny, I'm sorry you had to go through that. If I'd have known that those things were going on with that studio, I never would've booked you there. I know people think agents are leeches, but I genuinely care about you, and I'd never want you to be hurt. I'd never want you to be drugged. And I'd never want you to lose your livelihood." He pauses. "Now that you're retired, I suppose you have no use for me, unless you want to try acting in regular films or TV."

"Not acting, no, but, there is something you could maybe help me with. I want to try becoming an intimacy coordinator."

It's quiet on the line, and then Ace says, "You know, I think that's a great idea. Let me see what I can do."

"Thanks very much."

I hang up and see Kurt standing there with a refill for my coffee. "Your agent's going to help you find work?" Kurt asks.

"Yep. Isn't that great?"

He nods, but his lips are turned down.

I kiss him, then gesture at his long face. "What's wrong?"

"I'm balancing wanting you to be happy with wanting you to quit trying to pay me back."

Ah.

That.

"Thank you for the reminder. I need to do something."

"What's that?"

I stand and go over to the table with the notepad where I've been keeping track of everything Kurt's bought for me. I hold it up. "Do ya mind if I tear up this here paper?"

"Thank fuck. Please do," Kurt says. "Get rid of that. Our relationship is so much more than a tally sheet."

Ripping it into tiny pieces, I toss it in the trash, then take him in my arms. "That it is, precious. That it is."