Sweet Pain (Amatucci Family #3) - Sadie Jacks Page 0,8

were in the same house with Errington.”

Ryker’s low growl against my chest settled my heart before it could start to race too quickly. I leaned against my own personal hero. Nodded at the District Attorney. “I can do that. Do you have a time preference?”

Wright blinked rapidly for a couple seconds, his face a little slack. He shook himself. “I was willing to bet you’d try to put me off for a couple weeks.” He smiled. “No. I don’t have a time preference, but honestly, the sooner the better. I’ve told Ryker,” he stepped back, addressed the whole family, “and I’ll tell all of you. A case like this…there’s no possible way to keep it out of the media. Most of you won’t be affected as your association is secondary or even tertiary. However, you all provided respite and refuge to Ms. Chase. That makes all of you involved in some way.”

Momma stepped forward. The warm familiar heat of her enveloped me from the left side. “Then we will be ready for the questions and the stares. My girl won’t be punished?”

Wright smiled at our matriarch. Shook his head. “No, ma’am. We have enough evidence of Errington’s own making that Ms. Chase will not be questioned as anything but a victim.” He winced as he said the last word. Sent me an apologetic look.

I smiled. Nodded. I had been a victim. But I wasn’t any longer. I’d escaped. Not once, but twice. People could call me whatever they wanted. I knew my identity. And it didn’t include the word victim in it.

Momma squeezed my arm. “Then we will weather the storm.”

I cleared my throat, pulled Wright’s attention back to me. I pushed the words out before I could chicken out. “Will my parents be punished?”

Wright’s brow furrowed. “On what grounds?”

Ryker pulled me closer to him. “Errington mentioned that they paid him ten million dollars to take her off their hands in one of his videos to her.”

I swallowed the scream of rage. Pain. Betrayal. With effort and no small amount of willpower, I kept my gaze steady on Wright’s.

He returned my gaze. “I was under the impression that you were…otherwise occupied while those videos were playing.”

I shook my head. “I heard that one. I dissociated after hearing that my parents gifted not only me, but an obscene amount of money, to the man who would torture me for the next five years.” I stiffened my spine, raised my chin. I refused to feel guilty for what had been done to me.

Wright seemed to take a minute to process my information. After a bit, he nodded. “If any of those funds can be linked to the implementation of the kidnapping, torture, and killing of these seventy-three females, then yes, they will be punished.” He paused. “Is that going to be a problem?”

I shook my head before he finished asking the question. “No. They should be punished. Ethan said he wouldn’t have been able to start his experiments if it weren’t for the sudden influx of funds from my parents. So I have no doubt the money they gave him for me—,”

My voice broke for the briefest moment. I closed my mouth. Swallowed. Cleared my throat “The money they gave him for me was used in no small part in his experiments and set up.”

Wright nodded. “If you are the actual recipient of his last will and testament, those assets won’t be available for a long time. Even in a case this open and shut.”

I nodded. “Completely understood. Whatever money is left is going to the families of the victims or to setting up a shelter for homeless or trafficking victims.”

Wright smiled. “You won’t be able to give the victims any remuneration. That could muddy the legal waters in a criminal case unless the judge orders it. You can certainly set up a foundation or shelter for trafficking survivors, though.” He nodded. “I’ll have the forensic accountant get started right away. Get that ball rolling as quickly as possible.”

I nodded, felt the tears back up in my throat. I couldn’t say thank you. Didn’t want to hug the man. But I was so grateful, so fucking thankful, that justice would actually be served. For me. For the seventy-three women and girls that had lost their lives to the travesty that was Ethan Emery Errington.

We would finally be heard.

We would finally be free.

We walked up the stairs to the catwalk. A single file line of somberness and heavy hearts. The things that had