Chapter 42: The Verdict (Nate POV)

Liam’s words, “I owe you more than this,” stayed with me, soft and heavy, as the recess ended. My chest felt tight, my hands shaky as we went back into the courtroom. His eyes had been steady, his voice raw, and I’d wanted to say more, thank him again, tell him I felt it too, but the gavel banged, pulling us apart. The room filled fast, the air thick with whispers, my heart pounding loud in the quiet.

The judge stared down, her face blank, papers in her hands. My lawyer sat next to me, her pen still, her breath slow. Liam was in the back now, his face pale but set, watching me. My legs bounced under the table, my hands sweaty. He’d told the truth, risked everything, and I hoped it was enough. Harper’s video, Graham’s files, Zoe’s article had blasted it all out. But the feds had still grabbed me, and doubt gnawed at me, sharp and cold.

“Order,” the judge said, her voice loud, banging once. The room went still, my breath stuck. “On the charge of data theft against Nathan Carter,” she said, slow, clear, “the court finds the defendant, not guilty.”

My heart stopped, my hands unclenching, my breath rushing out. Not guilty, free. The room buzzed, soft at first, then loud, voices overlapping. My lawyer grabbed my arm, her smile quick. “You’re clear,” she said, her voice sharp, happy. I nodded, my head spinning, my eyes finding Liam. He smiled, small and real, his shoulders dropping like he’d been holding his breath too.

I stood, my legs shaky, my chest light for the first time in weeks. Free, no cuffs, no jail, no lies pinning me down. Zoe’s article, Liam’s words—they’d done it. But the judge wasn’t finished, her voice cutting through again. “On Harper Morgan,” she said, her tone flat, “insufficient evidence for immediate arrest. She remains free, pending further investigation.”

My stomach sank, my hands clenching fast. Free—Harper was still out there? After the video, the files—her stealing, framing me? My breath caught, my eyes darting to Liam. His face hardened, his hands in fists, but he didn’t look surprised. Graham too, still out, fighting Zoe’s claims with lawyers, money. My chest tightened—it wasn’t over, not all the way.

The judge banged her gavel, ending it, and the room erupted—people moving, talking, leaving. My lawyer packed up, her voice low. “They’ll get her, it takes time,” she said, but I barely heard, my eyes on Liam. He walked over, slow, his suit wrinkled, his face bruised from that night he’d saved me. My heart jumped, my hands itchy to touch him.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice quiet, nodding to the door. I followed, my legs steady now, the crowd parting. The courthouse steps hit us with cold air, the sun low, reporters shouting from below, “Nate! Liam! Any comment?” I ignored them, my breath fogging, my shoulder brushing his as we walked down.

We stopped at the bottom, the noise fading, just us in the quiet. My chest felt full—free, but heavy too. “It’s done,” I said, my voice low, looking at him. “I’m out.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes on me. “You’re safe now.”

I nodded, my throat tight, my hands in my pockets. Safe, but not him. “Your job,” I said, my voice shaky. “ZenithTech—they’ll fire you. That testimony—”

“Toast,” he said, his voice flat, a small shrug. “They were done with me anyway, Graham’s blacklist. I don’t care.”

I stared, my chest aching. He’d tanked his career, everything, for me. “Liam,” I said, my voice breaking, stepping closer. “You didn’t have to—”

“I did,” he said, his voice firm, his eyes steady. “You’re worth it.”

My breath caught, my hand brushing his, soft and quick. His fingers twitched, touching back, warm against the cold. My heart raced, my chest warm—he’d said he loved me in that motel, and here he was, proving it again. I wanted to grab him, hold him, but the street was loud, eyes everywhere. Still, that touch—it was enough, for now.

“What now?” I asked, my voice low, my hand still close to his. “Harper’s out, Graham too. They won’t stop.”

He nodded, slow, his face tight. “We figure it out,” he said, his voice quiet. “Together.”

I smiled, small and real, my chest lightening. Together—he meant it, and I did too. My hand brushed his again, lingering this time, my fingers curling just a bit. “Yeah,” I said, my voice soft. “Together.”

His phone buzzed, loud in the quiet, breaking the moment. My hand pulled back, my heart jumping as he frowned, pulling it out. His face changed, pale, hard, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “What?” I asked, my voice sharp, stepping closer.

He didn’t answer, just turned it to me—Graham’s name, a text: “Come back, or Nate pays.” My stomach dropped, my hands cold, my breath fast. Graham—still pulling strings, still threatening. My eyes met Liam’s, his jaw tight, his hands shaking.

His face hardened, his eyes locked on the message, dark and set.