Page 46 of Hers to Tame
I hit him again in the face while he whimpers. I vaguely hear shouting behind me, but I don’t care. No man puts his hands on her then walks away. Before I can say anything else, I feel strong hands rip me away. They throw me onto the grass, locking handcuffs behind my back.
“You stay down,” I hear barked in my ear before a large knee leaves my back. “Someone get him cleaned up, then bring him to the station. You! Take these two to the station. Put them in a holding cell until I can get this cleaned up.” I’m grabbed by the shoulders before being lifted to my feet.
Finding myself thrown in the back of a squad car, I try to crane my head around to see what happened to the man I had every intention of landing in the hospital. When Matt is thrown in the back of the squad car, he turns his cool green eyes to me.
“I guess I should count myself lucky at just receiving a few broken ribs and a black eye. You fair went to town on him. I’m sure we can watch it later on YouTube. You had quite a crowd.” I look out the window at the large group of kids milling around. Why are there so many cops out there?
“We might need to prepare to look for new employment on Monday,” he adds. Why the hell is he so calm? Better question is, how did he get the shiner under his right eye? This time, it’s not on me.
“Whatever, I hate my job anyway. How did you get a shiner? I can already see it swelling. Why are you in here with me?” A large officer climbs into the car. Easing away from the curb, he eyes Matt with a smirk in the rearview mirror.
“That was a hell of a block. You knocked Jones on his ass,” the officer says. “Did you play football?” Matt just grunts. My eyebrow notches up when I look at him. He shrugs at me before turning to look out the window.
When we get to the station, we’re booked into holding to wait. It’s never good for an attorney to get tossed into a holding cell. Even though I don’t practice here, it doesn’t take long for someone to recognize me for what I am.
“Hey, aren’t you that ambulance chaser that likes slumming it at the shelter with that smokin chula?” Looking up, I’m greeted by the biggest, scariest, most tattooed biker I’ve ever seen. Shit, this is going to hurt.
“Well, shit. Now you’ve gotten me shanked to death in a holding pen,” Matt growls next to me.
“Yeah,” I say, standing. “What about it?”
“That scared woman with the three kids who was at the shelter a couple of months ago? She was hiding from her motherfucking boyfriend?” I remember her very well. I had called in several favors to help her. We had to track her down finally to get her to safety. I personally made sure she got set up in her new life before having a restraining order placed on her scum boyfriend.
“Yeah.” Please don’t tell me this is the scum boyfriend I helped her get away from. Last I heard she was living in a new city with a good job. I really don’t want to die in a holding cell trying to teach him a lesson about hitting on women. One lesson a day is my max.
“That was my sister.” He sticks out his hand to me and I manage to only flinch slightly. When I take it, he slaps me on the back. “I was upstate when all that went down. I couldn’t get back here to take care of that problem.” Oh, thank God. I don’t have to die today!
“Hey! This guy saved my sister. You fuck with him, you fuck with me. Got it?” he growls. He walks back across the cell taking his seat. Matt just shakes his head at me before moving to the other side of the cell.
“Rhett, Gibson. Let’s go,” an officer calls for us, unlocking the door. I shake the big guy’s hand again on my way by. “The district attorney wants to see both of you.” Matt and I share a look of dread.
It’s never good when the DA appears in person, especially on a weekend. We are both shown into a room where Grayson, Dad, Dad’s attorney and the DA are sitting. Why in the hell would they be here?
“Sit down,” the DA says. We both sink into chairs like naughty adolescents.
“I’d like to just say first that this is all my fault. Matt was trying to stop me.” I’ve been preparing our defense in my head since landing in the back of that cop car.
“Really?” the DA says, raising his hand to cut me off. “Is that why a man with a sealed juvenile record tackles a cop? Out of good intentions? Actually, he managed to block three of them before they finally got him restrained. Left tackle, I presume?” We all turn to stare at Matt.
“Tight end,” he mumbles, receiving an icy stare back.
“Would you like to share with everyone what’s in that file, Mr. Gibson?” Matt remains silent as he glares at the DA. “I didn’t think so. Didn’t take long for the sheriff in North Carolina to explain it.” Matt visibly pales at his words.
“If it’s any consolation, I think you got a bum rap. You are in luck, Mr. Gibson, it seems my financial advisor has convinced me he can’t function without his stock analyst. You are free to leave, but I will be passing your information to the officer in charge of putting the flag football game against the fire department together. I expect after being tackled while on duty that he will be relieved to hear that you’ve agreed to play for the men in blue this season.”
“Come on Matt, I’ll take you home. Sounds like we have some things to discuss,” Grayson says, standing. “Thank you for not pressing charges, I’ll see you next week.” He shakes the DA’s hand before pushing a still silent Matt out the door. Damn, there’s a good chance Lily is dating a bigger badass than I thought. When the door closes, they turn to me. Oh shit!
“Now, Mr. Rhett, as an officer of the court, I’m sure you have at least an idea of how much trouble you both should be in. Luckily for you, Mr. Bennett is my investment broker. He can’t do his job without Mr. Gibson and that would make me very unhappy. It helps that the officer was more impressed about getting his number to join a flag football team than pressing charges.” He pauses, I assume to make sure I’m paying attention, before continuing.
“ It also helps that I have known your father in a social capacity for many years. You are not the only one who enjoys an occasional game of poker. His stellar reputation and assurances have helped your cause considerably.”
I look at Dad, “I’m not sorry. He can’t be allowed to just prey on whomever he wants.”
“Shut up and listen,” Dad says, giving me a warning look. His attorney looks like he might be having a stroke based on what I just said. He stands to say something, but he’s cut off with a hand motion.
“Mr. Rhett, let me finish.” The DA continues, “He’s not pressing charges. We made it very clear that we know exactly what he is. We have reopened his file. It seems when the young woman’s parents showed up this morning, she had a very different story ready. Your sister has already delivered the pictures of the bruises on your girlfriend’s throat and arm. There is a restraining order already in place with charges soon to follow.”
“Thank you,” I manage to get out before he holds his hand up again.
