Page 83 of Building Courage

“Put that thing down,” Tucker said, his attention laser-focused on Tate.

Tate eased forward, tossing the glass object in the air and then catching it. But his eyes weren’t on him; they were on Brynn. “Martin may be bleeding while we have this standoff. Move, and I’ll leave.”

“Put that thing down, and I’ll think about it,” Tucker countered. Come on, asshole. Just a little closer…

As though he’d heard him, Tate sauntered forward, fixated on Brynn. “Get out of my way,” Tate demanded.

Tucker lunged forward, whipping out a hand, and smacked the glass piece away. He swept Tate’s legs from under him and had him on the ground, his arm twisted high up between his shoulder blades in a second. The man screamed like a girl when he put his knee in his back, pinning him to the floor.

“Go, Brynn. See if Martin’s here.”

Tate strained to rise. “He’s not here. I took his phone and left him at the spa.”

“If you’ve hurt him, Tate, I’m personally going to kick your nuts so hard you’ll have to cough to clear them out of your throat,” Brynn threatened. She rushed past them and headed down the hallway.

Tucker bit his lip to keep from laughing. “He better not be in there hurt because, if he is, I might not be able to hold her off.” He couldn’t wait to call Denotti and tell him about this.

Brynn was back in a few seconds, relief in her expression.

“Looks like you’re not going to be singing soprano for the rest of your life, asshole,” Tucker said.

Twenty long minutes later, while Tate see-sawed between begging him to let him up to cussing and threatening him, the intercom buzzed, and Brynn pushed the button to let the police in. The two officers took in the situation in seconds and rushed to take custody of Tate.

“I’m going to sue you into oblivion, asshole,” Tate threatened Tucker as the officers dragged him to his feet.

“Do you know this man?” one officer asked Tucker.

“No, but I’ve met the guy who lives in this apartment, and this guy isn’t him.”

Brynn said, “His name is Tate Norton. He’s the boyfriend of the man who rents this apartment, but his name isn’t on the lease, and he’s only a guest now and then. We walked in to see him destroying the apartment.”

The officer cuffed Tate while the other searched his pockets. He opened his wallet, confirming Brynn’s ID, and radioed it in. “You’re going to be too busy to file a lawsuit, Mr. Norton. There’s a BOLO out for your arrest for assault and battery, auto theft, and now, we’ll add the destruction of private property way over four hundred dollars.”

The other officer practically crowed when he removed two vials of white powder from Tate’s front pants pocket. “And we’ll be adding cocaine possession to those charges as well. Seems like you’re a walking felony, Mr. Norton.” The officer radioed in for another unit to help with the scene.

Tate had gone from raging to sullen silence. Maybe the seriousness of the charges was finally sinking in. When the officers started to frog-march him out of the apartment, he said.

“Fuck you, Brynn—and fuck your boyfriend. You’ll both regret this.”

“Not as much as you will, Tate,” Brynn fired back. “The guys at the jail are really going to love you.”

Tucker chuckled.

Two more officers entered the room. One started documenting the damage to the apartment with a camera while the other interviewed Brynn.

Tucker took a couple of steps back and leaned against the door facing.

The elevator door opened, and he turned to see a battered and bruised Martin coming toward him. “Shit.”

The guy had to have some warning. He moved to intercept him. “Hey, Martin.”

The man looked up. A bright red handprint stood out on his cheek, his lip was busted, and his eye was swollen shut and would be black and blue in the near future. The way he moved seemed indicative of some other injuries. Maybe bruised or broken ribs. He’d had a few of those himself and could empathize.

“The police are here, and they’ve arrested your boyfriend. They’ve taken him to the station to be booked.”

Martin was silent for a few seconds. “Good.”

“He’s been in your apartment a while, Martin. He’s taken out his aggression on your place. He had cocaine on him when the police arrested him. He was high. He’ll be charged for that, too.”

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