Page 7 of Savage in the Streets
But as I look over to thank him, I see that he’s casting me in a blistering gaze.
“I think Judge Fischer has just about lost his damn mind,” he spits out.
“You’re the one that decided to post my bail, agreeing to his terms.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ, I’ve dealt with conditional bail before, but fucking babysitting?” He slams his hands against the steering wheel to emphasize his displeasure.
“Well, if we can just find a way to remove this ankle monitor without alerting the authorities, I can be on my way. That is what you had wanted, right?”
Not that I have a place to go.
Ward chuckles gravely. “Yeah, that’s no longer going to fly.”
“You said I should skip town.”
“That was before I was forced to babysit you. Now, if you disappear, I’ll be held accountable.”
I refrain from saying, “Like I give a fuck,” and instead ask, “Why are you helping me? I’m not stupid enough to think that Caleb’s ever done anything good in his life, so you owing him a favor only means you’re not as straight and narrow as your polished exterior.”
“Caleb Savage is the last person I’d ever do a favor for.” He fastens his seatbelt and starts the car with a push of a button.
Doesn’t bailing his sister out of jail qualify as a favor?
He backs the car out quickly, it lurches, then surges forward, pressing me back against the seat.
“If you’re not more careful, you’re the one that’s going to be spending the night in a cell,” I tease. “Or does being a lawyer mean you don’t have to answer to the rules?”
“It does come with some advantages, such as knowledge of the system.”
“So, what are our options?” I ask.
“Options?”
“You are my lawyer, ya know. I was patiently waiting for a public defender to arrive when you showed up?”
“First thing I’ll do is review your case. Spoiler Alert: It’s pretty bad. Then, I’ll see what kind of deal I can make for you.”
“Deal? So you’re not even going to entertain the idea that I might be innocent?”
He smirks, his chest rising and falling in a chuckle.
So that’s how it’s gonna be. He won’t even give me the benefit of the doubt. I suppose I should have expected as much, but I guess a part of me thought that he’d at least have an open mind since he was taking on my case.
We ride in silence through the rough section of town, the only place I’ve ever called home, into the wealthier area of Highland Meadows. Which might as well be another planet.
Even at night, everything here looks new and well maintained. When I was younger, Highland Meadows had just started development. Everyone was excited because it promised to bring in jobs and opportunities.
Except that working in a rich zip code doesn’t mean you’re going to get paid more. A friend of mine left her waitressing job at Applebee’s for the prospect of working at the prestigious Crest’s Creek, which boasts a menu of dinners that cost well into the hundreds of dollars. She ended up bending over backward, doing twice the work, for a small fraction more than she’d made waiting tables at her old job.
“I just want to go home,” I say in a deadpan tone.
“And I’d like nothing more than to bring you home,” Ashton grinds out, taking a sharp right turn, “but unfortunately, that’s not an option.”
I roll my eyes. “So you’re just going to be grumpy as fuck and blame me for all your woes?”
He stops in front of a gate, which opens when he pushes a button, revealing the fanciest apartment complex I’ve ever seen.
After parking, he shuts off his car, turns to me, drinking me in with apprehensive eyes. It’s almost like he’s studying a different species.
