Page 16 of Pen Me

“All yours, bud.” I huffed at the roach.

Thirty minutes later the door at the end of the hall opened and voices trickled onto the protective custody unit.

“You ready, Zade?”

I squinted toward the shadows of the hallway, not trusting my own ears.

“Larissa?” The disbelief ebbed in my voice.

Were they that short staffed this morning?

“Nope.” She denied, placing a hand on either side of her uniformed hips. “It’s Deputy Porter, now.”

I couldn’t stop the laughter from crawling up my throat, “You’re a fuckin’ turn key?”

“Deputy,” she firmly reiterated.

“Right. That’s what I said.” I snorted.

“Whatever. Turn around, inmate. Stick your wrists through the bars, time to cuff up.”

It shouldn’t have amused me that much. She’d been working at the county for a while, she probably earned a spot as some kind of deputy in training or some shit. She fastened the cuffs, and I heard a second guard approach over the click of them. The smile on his face, when I finally laid eyes on her co-worker, caused me to linger in place when she asked me to step out of the cell.

“Menace.” She snapped her fingers in the air, earning a disgusted look from her uniformed friend.

“What did you just call that inmate?” He blinked.

“He’s a damn menace to society,” she grumped, before reaching in and grabbing me by the arm.

Larissa roughly led me down the hall and shoved me into a transport van when the other officer finally got caught up enough to open the door.

She started to march off and the man huffed, “Damn, Porter. You gotta fasten ‘em in. It’s our ass if we wreck and they get hurt.” He leaned in and yanked a seatbelt across me.

I tucked my chin back, not really appreciating his closeness. He smelled like cigarettes and coffee. The scent instantly nauseated me on my empty stomach.

My belly was still rolling when the judge called my name about two hours later.

“Your Honor, the state would like to–” The lady at the prosecution table began, but the judge held up a hand. His finger jutted out oddly from beneath the oversized sleeve of his black robe.

“A moment, if the state would be so kind.” The judge had an east coast accent that I couldn’t really place. “Mr. Zade, have you been advised of your right to an attorney?”

“I have, Your Honor.” I bobbed my head from where I sat, hands still cuffed. That swivel chair was the most comfortable surface my ass had graced in so long, I just wanted to enjoy every minute of it and leave them to their bickering.

Nothing important would happen today, of that, I was sure.

I’d been through the motions enough times to know how it all went.

“And was it your desire to hire an attorney, or did you require the court to appoint one for you?”

I assumed Zig would send an attorney for my questioning, but they’d never called me back again, and no one had ever shown up to ask for me before court.

I shrugged and the chains rattled as I raised my hands and rubbed the stubble on my face. Was there a point in hiring a lawyer when a bar full of people had witnessed me assault the man? The idea seemed like wasted funds to me.

“I’m good,” I abruptly decided.

“Sir?” The judge leaned forward, his brows flinching with concern.

“I’ll represent myself.” I cleared my throat and adjusted my tone as I clarified.

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