Page 38 of Last First Time
Several civil liberty groups have dragged him into court about it and even the feds got involved, but nothing seems to stick and so the horrific price-gouging has been allowed to continue. People are actually dying for lack of access to the treatment, but Trip Harrington doesn’t care. He only cares about making money. All of the money.
And that’s just his public persona. Reed has told me occasional stories from his largely neglect-filled childhood that makes me hate the man even more, which once seemed almost impossible. And now here he is, the horrible Trip Harrington, flashing around his expensive smile in a press conference to talk shit about the one and only decent human being in his life.
I still don’t understand how people like him are responsible for the existence of someone like my Kade. He is so genuinely caring, always trying to do what he thinks is best or right. The very thought of his wretched father turning this disaster into free press makes me sick to my stomach.
Yeah, maybe I better turn off the television. I feel like I’m probably going to try to break some stuff if I have to listen to Trip’s smarmy rich guy drone any longer. And the other rule of my life is that I have only one breaking stuff freak-out per day. I’ve already used that one up in Reed’s driveway.
My phone pings with another text. The newest text is from Abernathy. I take a deep breath and open it.
Reed in jail. Bail hearing was a disaster. Where are you? Please call.
Well, crap. How is Reed still in jail, though? Wasn’t Abernathy supposed to show up and say some magical lawyer words and get him out?
So many questions, and I’m not entirely certain I want to hear the answers. I’m still in a rotten mood and could use someone to yell at though, so I call Abernathy and let him have it.
“What did you do?” I ask instead of responding to his greeting like a normal human being.
“Well unlike you, I went to the police station. Then I did my job and got bail set for Reed.”
I sigh heavily. “Then why did you send me that text and say it was a disaster? Also, why did I get another call from the jail? Did one of you two idiots write my name and number on the bathroom wall there under the words ‘for a good time call’? Because if so, I’m going to kill you both.”
Abernathy pauses. I feel like we should be having some sort of conversation, but suddenly we aren’t. He isn’t laughing at my crappy joke, and as far as I can tell, he maybe stopped breathing. I pull the phone away from my face and check, but the call hasn’t dropped.
“Hello? Thom?” I wait a moment. “You know that if you’re nodding or shaking your head, I can’t see you, so use your words, boy genius.”
“K.T., I have something to tell you, but it’s not good news. And I don’t want you to drive over here and kill me.” He clears his throat.
Well, good to see that might-just-murder-you part of my reputation is still intact, even if I am now a mayor-humping skank too. “Exactly how bad is not good, Abernathy?”
He clears his throat a second time. He really seems afraid I’m going to drive over there and murder him in a public place. I can’t tell whether to feel sorry for him or proud of myself. Maybe both.
“Speak. Up.” I crack my knuckles for effect, but I’m pretty certain he can’t hear it over the phone. The act itself does level up my badassery a bit though, so it isn’t wasted effort.
“Look, the judge is in the senator’s pocket. He set a bond that’s so high that even Reed doesn’t have that kind of money sitting around, and it’s going to be a few days until he can liquidate enough assets to get out of jail.”
I snort. “Bail bondsmen take ten percent all the time. They’ll take collateral and everything. Look at you two fancy little prep school boys not knowing shit about how the world really works.”
Abernathy chokes. At least it sounds like he choked. It might have been profanity in some language I haven’t learned yet. “There are different kinds of bonds, K.T. This judge set a cash only bond. That means the ten percent thing and the collateral are both out as options. If Reed doesn’t come up with seventy-five thousand dollars, he’s going to sit in jail until he can sell off some of his trust assets. That could be a week or two, maybe even a month.”
My mouth goes dry immediately. “Thom, you’d better lend him that money. You’re single and not doing shit with your cash. Get him out of jail right now.”
He sighs heavily again. “I can’t, K.T. First of all, I don’t have a giant bundle of cash in my mattress or whatever you’re thinking. You are clearly overestimating my income, so thanks, I guess. But even if we put that aside, there are a ton of rules about what I’m allowed to do as Reed’s lawyer, and one of the things I absolutely cannot do is give or lend him money relating to his case. I’ll get disbarred.”
“But that’s stupid,” I say, a little high pitched and breathlessly. Great, my panic voice again.
“Well, it makes sense, if we’re not talking about our friend Reed. But honestly, K.T., I don’t have that kind of cash. I don’t know anyone who does. Reed says he has about twenty-five on hand, which is a good start. I’m hoping maybe you can get ahold of his family and get the other fifty collected.”
“Oh, so you haven’t seen the news.” My voice goes flat. Pissed off, if you know me well enough.
Thom swears. “What now, K.T.? Please tell me because I’m going to need to do damage control right away.”
I roll my eyes at his bossy lawyer voice. I hate being told what to do. “It’s his dad, Thom. You know, Trip Harrington, the pharmaceutical asshole of the century. He’s currently in the middle of a press conference basically telling everyone that he’s not surprised his son is a bad seed who punches national level politicians in the face.”
Thom’s swearing goes up a notch. Even I’m impressed. “Okay, in that case, I’ve got to go. See if you can think of some people who could chip in any amount, then let’s talk tomorrow and figure out whether we can get Reed out of jail some time before the afternoon.”
“Jesus, do you think I’ll be having some kind of bake sale outside the jail tomorrow morning? You’re out of your mind, Abernathy.” My stupid voice though. The high pitch and the inability to take a real breath are going to give me away.
“K.T., you have to try. Everyone likes Reed and you, and the people who are your real friends won’t care about the whole dirty pictures thing. Except maybe to give you some grief about it later.”
