Page 34 of Enforce This

“We need to leave,” Feloni panicked.

The door we’d entered through opened and a middle-aged man with a far too smug smile stepped inside.

“Feloni Tristaleen Miller,” he stressed, before crossing his arms in an authoritative manner.

“His brother is the fucking State Attorney,” I quietly deduced.

I nodded to confirm it for myself, and didn’t stop shifting my head until I threw the first punch.

It connected with his lower jaw, but before he could buckle, I grabbed his crisp fancy-ass jacket and hauled him toward me, landing a second blow square on the end of his nose to wake him up from the first.

It cracked and blood spattered. The women behind the counter were screaming wildly and a police officer darted inside and tried to restrain me.

“Give me a chance,” I hissed at Evan when he started to howl. “One fucking chance. I swear to fuck, I’ll put her on the stand and bring you to your goddamn knees. You fucking coward.”

The cop ripped me off of Evan, who scrambled toward the counter before his hands shot up and he started pleading, “No! No, unhand him. It’s fine. It’s…”

He laughed in that awkward way rich fuckers tended to do when their mouth had written a check their ass couldn’t cash.

“A– A— A misunderstanding is all. I say let him go, Pete.” Evan stammered.

He pinched his nose to try and stem the bleeding and looked between the women in the office, clearly trying to calculate just how much of the conversation they had comprehended.

“Help them. Give them the birth certificates and whatever else they need.”

“I– I don’t have any identification on me. I left it at school when—” Trista trailed off.

“Well, your uncle, here, is the State Attorney; surely, he can vouch for your identity.”

I pointedly stared at Evan, welcoming the opportunity to swing on him again.

“Yes. She’s Feloni Tristaleen Miller. Daughter of Janice Briggs and Mark Miller of Swanwick. Print it. Now.” His voice was funny, from the way he was holding his nose, but we all got the message.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was five minutes to four.

“I need a judge, too.” I spoke up before he could run off to his office and hide. “We need a marriage license and we mean to be wed. Today.”

He swallowed hard and shifted his head with a wince. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You’ll make it fucking happen if you know what’s good for ya, bud.” I looked him in the eyes, meaning every last word.

The woman printed off our papers and slid them across the counter while pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“Lead the way, dipshit.” I waved toward the door.

Evan shuffled outside and we followed him up a set of stairs. He stopped outside a door that wasn’t labeled.

“A moment– I’ll alert the judge that my niece needs a favor.”

I grabbed his arm and he whimpered.

“See that that is all you alert the judge to, or she spills every dirty detail.”

He disappeared inside and a few moments later the lights flipped on inside the courtroom and a late-middle-aged female judge in robes smiled from the other side of the glass. She pushed the door open and waved us inside.

“I always have five more minutes for a friend. Especially when that friend is Janice Miller Briggs.” The woman cheerfully rambled. “It isn’t often that I get to end my day with a positive note. Usually, I have to sit through an hour of child support at the end of each day. Let me tell you, it sucks the joy right out of a person. So, switching it up, and signing a marriage license… That is definitely something I can squeeze in.”

She started toward the bench and a court reporter quietly entered from the other side of the room and took her place behind her machine.

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