Page 17 of Pen Me

The prosecutor giggled.

“Actually, your honor, it was the state’s intention to advise the court and Mr. Zade, that the victim in this case was given a thirty percent chance of surviving the afternoon. Should the victim succumb to his injuries, the state will be upgrading the charges. Something Mr. Zade may wish to consider when making such a choice.”

“Indeed.” The judge’s attention swung back to me. “Mr. Zade, I cannot in good faith–”

“Your faith is your own.” I added a late, “Your Honor,” And when the man’s jaw dropped only to turn to steel, I kept right on rambling. “With all respect, that is. If we’re debating or discussing faith, I’d rather not place mine in what my mother affectionately termed public pretenders.”

The man stared at me so long, I turned to look at the prosecutor, somehow convinced no one had heard me. Her hand was over her mouth and her lips were twitching at the sides. She madeaquiet sound that imitated a cough a few times before she eventually composed herself.

“Your Honor, perhaps–”

“No.” He swung that finger, cutting her off again. “No. Mr. Zade will accept the public defender, or he will sit for a mental evaluation to assure me he is of a sound enough mind to turn down a lawyer in what may become a homicide case. I think we will arraign him on the attempted murder and continue this matter next week. Mr. Zade, the court will assign a public defender to meet with you in the meanwhile.”

I gave a slow nod, what else could I do?

The judge called the next case, and I was escorted back to the rigid court bench to wait another hour for the rest of the inmates who had morning court. When the last case was called, we were led out to the van with numb asses. There were only three of us in total, I don’t know why they didn’t just call our cases in a row so the guards could get on with their day, but I didn’t make the rules.

The guard that had fastened my seatbelt that morning, did so again when we loaded up. Another guard whose chest had the name, Ridgeway, sewed onto his shirt helped the other two buckle up.

“What happened to Larissa?” I absently asked.

“Shut the fuck up, inmate.” The guard shot back, before jerking the strap until it was biting into my chest.

I groaned and closed my eyes against the urge to curse at him.

“What did he just say, Collins?” Ridgeway asked.

“Nothing. Damn inmate thinks he is on a first name basis with Porter or something.”

Ridgeway snorted and shot me a condescending look, “Voices carry in the hall, he probably hears more than we know.”

They spoke about me like I wasn’t even there, which shouldn’t have been surprising. They carried on about last night’s game, and the issues Collins was currently having with his ex-wife as if none of us were in the vehicle with them.

“Fuckin’ bitch has me by the balls. Four kids. Can you even imagine what a support payment on four kids looks like, Ridgeway? I’m telling you, don’t fall for that shit. Find you a woman that already has kids, then just convince her to give you one of her own. It’s better that way, she’s already perfected her mothering and worked out her issues on someone else’s brats, you follow?”

Ridgeway shrugged without commitment and made a smacking sound with his lips. It was enough to convince Collins he had a vested audience. “Seriously. I’m giving you solid advice. I’m up to my neck in lawyers’ fees contesting her bullshit all the time, too. She signs them up for programs they don’t need, takes them to doctors that will sign off on any goddamn medicine she sees on the television or hears about in her women’s circles. Insurance don’t pay for most of that psych shit and let me tell ya– they ain’t paying squat on the vision end, either. She thinks they need some high-dollar bullshit eyeglasses from a quack-ass eye doctor who is so low rent, he sent one of ‘em home in a fuckin’ patch. Can you believe that? Sent my boy home lookin’ like a goddamned pirate.”

I squinted at the back of the driver’s seat before I even realized his ignorance was having an effect on my expression.

“You got a problem, inmate?” he barked.

I swung my eyes toward the rearview mirror and locked gazes with him.

“I thought they had an intelligence requirement, was all. Little stunned to hear it’s only a physical test for you boys these days.”

The van braked hard, and my body jarred, making the restraint bite and burn at my chest.

“Yeah. I should have expected that, all temper, no testicles.” I groaned, causing his eyes to widen with outrage.

“Just you wait.”

I didn’t have to do so long, we were a turn away from the underground garage. The door sounded and a pair of guards appeared to help escort us back to our cells. Ridgeway and Collins stayed beside me with Collins shit talking all the way to the unit. I let him ramble, causing more than a few of his coworkers to look at him like he was out of line.

“Yeah. Be glad you’re in protective custody, princess,” Collins huffed, as we neared my cell.

I laughed and eyed him over my shoulder, “Fuck you. I didn’t ask to be in protective custody.”

“Yeah.” Collins sneered, jerking me back to his side so our eyes locked. “Neither did Vince. Difference is they’re still scrubbing his brains off the shower floor.”

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